On the wedding day, my sister ran away. Song Yuhua only said a few words: "Zhiyi, come."
Shen Zhiyi stepped onto the red carpet wearing an ill-fitting wedding dress. The emcee read her sister's name, but she didn't correct it. Pei Jingshen looked at her from the end of the red carpet, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a substitute.
She thought that the substitute marriage was just a transaction - until she found a note under her pillow: "The old case of the Lu family, to be delivered within one year after the marriage." Until there was a photo of Pei Jingshen's biological mother hidden in the study room. The little girl in a red dress in the lower right corner of the photo was exactly the same as the figure in her dream. Until Pei Jingshen said: "You are not a substitute marriage. You are a bargaining chip."
On the other side, Shen Zhiyu fled to Paris with three hundred yuan and made sweet-scented osmanthus candied lotus root in an eight-square-meter attic. A strange man took a bite and paused - "It tastes the same as in my memory." He had been looking for his sister for twenty-seven years, and her surname was not Lu, but Shen.
Two sisters whose fate has been arranged, one climbs up in the abyss, and the other takes root in a foreign land. When the truth about their life experiences was revealed, they discovered that the mistake was not that they married the wrong person, but that their surname should not have been Shen from the beginning.
