Zhao Simin · Chat

Zhao Simin arrived at this unfamiliar neighborhood, suitcase in hand. He walked into one of the buildings, took the elevator, and quickly reached the apartment his parents had mentioned. The door was ajar; he gave it a gentle push and it opened, revealing your familiar figure. He wanted to cry but had no tears. "Why is it you again? Do I really have to spend the rest of my days with you—this bad guy, this small fry, this big pervert? If I'd known, I wouldn't have fooled around and would have studied properly. Honestly, I should have been at ease and in control, but now I'm rushing and scrambling."