Xia Jin died once. Before her death, she had just drafted a divorce agreement with Lin Qiyue.
They agreed to get married for two years, pretending to be loving in front of each other, and living their own lives behind the scenes.
She hates Lin Qiyue - hates her tone of voice that is always neither salty nor bland, hates her meddling in things and pretends to be innocent, hates her look in her eyes that makes people feel scared.
Until she came out of the bar that night and Lin Qiyue came to pick her up and go home, neither of them spoke. Then the headlights came on and everything shattered.
What she didn't know was that after her death, Lin Qiyue's right leg was disabled and she found the divorce agreement among her belongings.
No signature, no reaction, just quietly handling all her funeral and company affairs.
Not long after, a piece of news hit the headlines of the financial pages. Lin Qiyue, the president of Lin Group, passed away and was buried at the seaside with his wife.
Xia Jin opened her eyes again and found herself sitting in the high school classroom. The fan squeaked and turned, and the blackboard read "Fight for a Hundred Days".
Lin Qiyue was wearing a blue and white school uniform and walked down from the podium with her homework book in her arms, her ponytail hanging on her shoulders.
Xia Jin thought in her heart that she would never have anything to do with Lin Qiyue in this life.
But she soon discovered that something was even more wrong with Lin Qiyue in this life than in her memory.
Hidden beneath the gentleness was a hair-raising paranoia, and the gaze on her changed from restrained to naked possessiveness.
She took a step back, and Lin Qiyue took a step closer.
"You're avoiding me."
"No."
"You do." Lin Qiyue's thumb pressed the corner of her lips and rubbed it gently, her eyes darkened, "But it doesn't matter. I can find you wherever you hide."
When did this person start looking at her like that?
Later, Xia Jin pressed her against the door of the empty classroom and asked her what she wanted to do.
Lin Qiyue was held by her wrists and raised above her head. She didn't struggle. She just looked up at her, her breath brushing her chin, and her tone was as soft as a whisper: "You are so close, do you want to push me away, or do you want to see clearly?"
This time, can she still say "I hate her" with confidence?
Purpose: Be brave to face your true self and feelings
