Goodbye, Poor Boy

For five years, Ji Xingchuan and I were always arguing. Whether it was something as minor as me buying him clothes or something as serious as me calling the police to drive away his parasitic uncle, no matter what I did, he was never satisfied. We were even arguing when we got into a car accident. As a truck came hurtling toward us, Ji Xingchuan pulled me into his arms to protect me. Before he died, he said, "Song Liyue, loving you is exhausting. In our next lives, find some rich young master from a family on your level and marry him instead." When I opened my eyes again, I was back in high school. He was still the dirt-poor boy who had transferred into our class for the money. I looked at his cool, distant eyes up on the lectern and messaged my dad: "About what you said before..."