He wiped the coffee stains off his face with a tissue, moving slowly and even with a perverted grace. The moment he looked up at me, all the hairs on my back stood up.
Those eyes were too cold to be alive. There was no anger or shock in his pupils, just a cold look like he was looking at prey, as if he was calculating how many pieces it would be easier to cut me into.
"Fu Qinghuan." His voice was low, with the texture of ice particles hitting the ground, "Are you here to bury me today?"
Fu Qinghuan.
These three words hit me on the temple like a heavy hammer. I suddenly remembered - this is not my name. My name is Lin Wan, an ordinary social worker who can't be found in a crowd. I worked overtime until three in the morning last night, then went home and fell asleep. Then what? Then I stood here, wearing a skirt worth tens of thousands of yuan a piece, holding a spilled coffee in my hand, and standing in front of me was a man named Fu Sihan.
Fu Sihan. Boss. Male protagonist. That bloody sadistic novel that I was chasing a while ago.
I'm wearing a book.
She transformed into the most miserable and vicious step-sister in the whole book, a cannon fodder female supporting character who was responsible for causing trouble for the male protagonist, serving as a stepping stone for the female protagonist Bai Yueguang, and was finally sent to a mental hospital by the male protagonist himself.
