CHAPTER 1

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  "What's today's date?"

    He asked me, I was taken aback, quickly looked up at the calendar, and replied: "The seventh day of the lunar new year."

    He was silent, and I added in a relaxed tone: "In three days, it will be the second day." The fourteenth day of the lunar month, Valentine's Day."

    With a gloomy expression on his face, he got up and went back to the house heavily, as if it was not Valentine's Day, but Ching Ming Festival.

    So the smile on my face slowly faded away.

    Perhaps for him, it is indeed the Ching Ming Festival.

    I'm actually very happy that he is willing to talk to me today. Although I live in the same room with him, he treats me like a talking piece of furniture—he rarely even looks at me.

    We can't see each other when we look up, but it's really sad that the relationship has developed to this point.

    I can probably guess why he suddenly asked me this question.

    Because in a few days it will be the first year of my cohabitation with him, and also the first year of his lover disappearing.

    I also want to spend Valentine's Day with him.

    But I can't say it.

    In the first month after I came back, he completely discovered that I was not his lover.

    Maybe he just thought I have amnesia before? But maybe the gap between me and the previous person is so great that he finally couldn't hold back and said directly: "You are not Ze'an." I want to say that

    I am Ze'an, I have always been, but I met him with an affirmative, doubtful, questioning look, I realized which Ze'an he was talking about.

    But I was indeed Ze'an, I opened and closed my mouth, hemming and hawing, not knowing how to answer him.

    He said: "You like spicy food, Ze'an can't touch any spicy food, you like to play games, Ze'an never plays games, you only know how to program, Ze'an can draw and sing, you are tone deaf..."

    He said after a short pause: "The most important thing is that Ze'an is left-handed, you are not."

    "Your handwriting is completely different."

    I was in a daze when I heard it, but I didn't expect that he had figured out all the details in just one month.

    He said again: "Who are you? Where is Ze'an?"

    I took a breath, met his eyes and smiled, "Jiqin, I'm really Ze'an."

    I swear I'm not lying.

    He frowned and was about to speak, but I said, "But the Ze'an you mentioned is indeed gone." "—he's gone."

    I made a gesture of leaving my head and said with a smile.

    His expression suddenly went blank, as if all the light in his life had been taken away by me. I pursed my lips and slowly withdrew my smile.

    I finally came back, but I don't seem to be welcome.




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