Lin Changqing sank into the seat of the special car, and the exhaustion of the twelve-hour flight spread over his limbs like a tide. When his cell phone vibrated in the inner pocket of his suit, he took it out almost dully. It read "Have a nice trip" from an unknown number.
The brother on the side glanced at the time and yawned: "It must be three o'clock in the morning in China right now? Are you so determined to stay up all night to calculate the time difference and send messages?"
"I don't know. Wrong message."
His fingertips hovered over the delete key for a long time, until the screen automatically dimmed, reflecting his own blurred shadow. Finally, simply press delete.
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The narrow smile of her best friend was reflected in the makeup mirror, and her fingertips clicked on the bloody plot on her phone: "There won't be any 'people who shouldn't be here' rushing in to steal the marriage later, right? It's like this in TV dramas."
""Stop mentioning him. I didn't give him an invitation. Today is my wedding, and everyone who is supposed to come is here. "
"That text message? "
"I hate the other person so much, how could it be me?"
The bridesmaid knocked on the door to remind her that the ceremony had begun. Ran Zuyang took a deep breath and stood up. She did not look back. The person she loved, hated, and was left silent in the end, along with those hot tears and sharp pain, should have been left in that summer and never blown into her future days.
Intention: growth
