He was once a weed struggling in the mud, and she was the one who came with a lantern.
The aroma of the food in the rental house mixed with her thoughts, and she became the only light on his counterattack. From being unknown to emerging, they used the sharpest mutual hostility to hide the softest dependence, thinking that such days would be as long as forever.
It wasn't until that gentle shadow appeared that she belatedly labeled the relationship "friendship." When the second female lead asked her for help with a blushing face, she slapped her chest to confirm the situation and pushed him towards others with her own hands - like a generous fool who doesn't understand heartache.
His anger became hypocritical in her eyes, and she blocked his question with "It's for your own good." It wasn't until he turned around angrily and laughed and talked to the second girl in front of her that she felt her heart being squeezed tightly in the "perfection" he deliberately created at that moment.
It turns out that some jokes, if left open, become a knife that cuts out the heart.
She ran away, filled with unspeakable grievances and belated heartbeat, and disappeared into his city.
He searched like crazy, but to no avail, he turned into a rose with thorns and forced her to show up with a depraved attempt that no one else could understand. Until one day, he found the words she wrote among his old things: "Let him stand at the highest place."
So, he put away all his anger, plunged into Vanity Fair, and spent a few years reaching the top, becoming what she had expected.
When they met again, there was paranoia in his eyes, and alienation in her face.
"Don't you want me to be a big star?" He pinched her wrist, his voice hoarse, "Now, it's up to me to recover what you owe me.
Purpose: I want to bring my novel to everyone