Everyone said that Ling Zhixia was crazy.
It's not appropriate to leave a nice rich lady alone, she must resign and have a flower gallery;
I don't want an elite husband, but I have to hang out with a bricklayer.
"What can a person who does art and a person who does menial work have in common?"
"He's after her money!"
"Just wait, within half a year, she will definitely go back crying and beg her ex-husband."
Ling Zhixia smiled but said nothing.
Only she knows——
This man who helped her fix light bulbs, clear sewers, and move picture frames every day,
Once the youngest genius in the architectural circle,
He has managed projects worth hundreds of millions.
... Still owes 30 million yuan in debt.
Later.
When that man stood on the top of the city as the chairman of Inkstone Group,
When she knelt down on one knee in front of all the celebrities in the city and held a city in front of her.
Everyone who had gossiped had their faces swollen.
A reporter asked him: "Mr. Deng, why did you go to the gallery to move bricks in the first place?"
Deng Yan glanced at the woman beside him and said calmly: "Chasing my wife."
Does fate say that we are in conflict with heaven and earth?
Excuse me.
My fate is up to her, not to God.
