Broken Engagement

Zhou Xingzhi was disfigured while saving the woman he truly loved. In the hospital, I cried my heart out, my sobs echoing through the halls.

I kept pestering the doctor, asking over and over if his face could be fixed.

Everyone thought I was hopelessly in love with him.

Only Zhou Xingzhi’s younger brother handed me a tissue, a smirk playing on his lips. “Sister-in-law, my brother’s face is beyond saving.” “You might as well choose me instead. After all, my face looks much more like Wei Qiao’s now than my brother’s does.”

On the eve of our wedding, I discovered a spreadsheet on Ji Qing’s computer.

It was filled with information about every girl he had ever dated.

In my column, it read: [Law-abiding and dutiful; suitable for marriage.]

Meanwhile, the entry for his first love read: [You are a bird of the air; you should fly proudly toward the horizon.]

He once said he would never marry her.

Because being his wife meant laboring over three meals a day, raising children, and serving one’s in-laws.

He couldn’t bear to subject her to that.

I didn’t argue, and I didn’t make a scene.

The next day, I went back to the television station.

Ji Qing didn’t know that I had a form of my own.

It was an application for a transfer to Africa to serve as a war correspondent.

The person I truly love is still there.

I’m going to find him and bring him back.