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The red candles were crackling on the wedding night. When Xiao Chenyuan's dagger was pressed against my neck, the blood beads on the blade were rolling down my collarbone. His Adam's apple moved, and his voice sounded like the wind in northern Xinjiang: "Where is Su Wan? You dare to impersonate her, and the whole Su family will accompany you to the funeral." I blinked my little deer eyes that were frightened to tears, and reached out to hold his wrist that was blue from the cold - his hands were so cold, colder than the edge of the well in the woodshed on a winter night. Later, he stood outside my room in the rain all night, with blood oozing from his throat and smiling at me: "Don't be afraid, Tangtang, I hurt... But not as much as you." But he didn't know that from the first moment he brought the dagger over, I could see clearly - the "Su Wan" he was looking for had already run away with the enemy's secret message, and I, the "fake", was squeezing the soft spots of his secret guard and counting the sugar men hidden in his sleeves.

After three years of hidden marriage, when she found old photos of her first love, her senior sister, in Gu Chenbi's study, she finally believed it - this restorer, who could even restore cracks in bronzeware, had raised her as a substitute for 3,600 days. On the day of the divorce, he didn't hold her back. He just lowered his head and wiped the newly repaired Shang Dynasty wine vessel and said, "Wait until you figure it out." Three years later, she returned to the jewelry industry with the "Blazing Color" series, but her new assistant called her "sister" with red eyes - the assistant was actually the sister of the senior sister. What's even more ironic is that Qingmei Cheng Yanzhi tore open the scar she had hidden for three years in public at the art exhibition: "Back then, did he know that you gave up the international award to save Gu Chenbi?" Until the night of the heavy rain, Gu Chenbi was soaked and blocked at the door of her studio, with the jade earrings she had lost when she was young lying in her palm. His hands trembling while repairing the bronze vessel, he said: "The name engraved on the tripod is the wedding vow I made when I was 16 years old and digging Sanxingdui with my grandfather." It turns out that the most ridiculous stand-in drama is just a protective wall he built with lies. And the person she pushed away with her own hands had already carved "the one and only" into the bronze for three thousand years.

On the day my senior student from the Department of Finance broke off the engagement in public, I smiled and threw the platinum ring into his cappuccino. Zhou Yan pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and said, "Xiao Yan, you keep making mistakes in your experiments recently, and your academic ability is not worthy of our future" - fart. The night before last, he signed "joint research" on my experiment diary, and then he was having sex with Lin Tang from the Art Department in the laboratory. What's even more shocking is that my MRI data was tampered with, the competition topic was leaked, and even the professor frowned and asked "Is it plagiarism?" I was squatting in the laboratory holding a crumpled experiment record book, and suddenly I heard a "ding" in my head - the top student system that was bound three years ago woke up. That night I finished reading half of the book "Advanced Organic Chemistry", and the system rewarded me with a complete formula for the deleted data. At the international competition, when I showed the disruptive catalyst ratio on the projection screen, Zhou Yan's face was whiter than his newly bought shirt. And the junior student from the computer science department who always calls "Sister Yan" behind me is sitting in the auditorium typing on the keyboard at the moment. Later I found out that he was the one who hacked the laboratory system, and he was the one who broke the opponent's jamming signals - he even had 300 photos of my calves under my white coat on his phone, euphemistically called them "energy supply pictures." "Sister Yan," he turned over the code to me with his ears red, "if you shake your legs, my program will run ten more sets of data." It turns out that the scumbag younger brother whom I treated as a follower was my most hidden trump card.