The night I was drinking with my client, the hospital just sent a reminder text message: My mother's kidney transplant deposit was still short of 420,000. But when the box door opened, my ex, whom I dumped seven years ago, was sitting in the main seat.
Zhou Tingyue.
Back then, he was so poor that he had nothing. In order to save my mother, I used the harshest words to push him away; when we met seven years later, he had become the most untouchable man in Beijing.
After the wine shop ended, he blocked me into the fire escape and said with a cold face: "Xu Nanzhi, come meet me at nine o'clock tomorrow morning with your hukou."
I thought he was crazy. But the next day, the company forced me to take the blame, and my hometown forced me to sign the settlement agreement for the fire involving my dad. I had no choice but to get the certificate from him.
Everyone said he was back to take revenge on me. Later I found out that he lied to me to get the certificate, not only for marriage, but also to accompany me to dig out the old fire that killed my father and scattered us seven years ago.
This time, the Zhou family wanted me to bow down, and the Gu family wanted me to shut up, but I decided to use this marriage certificate to drag them down one by one.
