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In high school, Zhu Xingyao received a love letter every Friday morning. By the time she graduated, she had received more than eighty letters in total.
She mistakenly believed these were written by Lu Ji, a handsome boy from the class next door, and replied with a letter of her own: I agree to be your girlfriend.
Their relationship had barely begun when it was reported to the Academic Affairs Office.
The dean gave them a three-hour lecture on ideological values in an attempt to separate them. As a result, Zhu Xingyao and Lu Ji became targets of isolation.
Years later, during their high school reunion, Zhu Xingyao angrily brought up the incident. Drunk and frustrated, she cursed, “Even now, I still don’t know which bastard reported us. If I ever find out, I’ll beat them to death!”
After the party, she was cornered in the bathroom by Jiang Tu, who expressionlessly looked at her. “I’m the bastard you mentioned.”
Zhu Xingyao’s mind was hazy. “Huh?” What is he talking about?
Jiang Tu looked down at her and smiled faintly. “I reported your relationship with Lu Ji. Are you going to kill me?”
Zhu Xingyao: “…”
The mystery that had troubled her for years was finally solved.
Jiang Tu added silently in his heart: Those love letters were also written by me — with my left hand.
Back then, Zhu Xingyao was a goddess in the eyes of many boys. To Jiang Tu, she was like a star in the sky: unreachable. But he waited for her to fall — right into his hands.