"What novel is that? Why haven't you shared it with me for a read?" Mickey usually loves to clutch her phone and read romance novels—indulgent, torturous, tragic, joyful, she's indiscriminate, and can be called the ancestor of the romance genre.
Gu Qili cleared her throat twice, smiling awkwardly to change the subject: "I've got a bad memory, forgotten the name."
"According to the conventions of romance novels, he should be in love with the female lead."
Gu Qili's face grew hot, her heartbeat quickened, and a faint sense of anticipation emerged, but her gaze soon dimmed again: "But when he hugged the female lead while drunk, he was calling out another woman's name."
Mickey immediately curled her lip, as if such situations were all too common, and scribbled two characters on a piece of paper nonchalantly.
Gu Qili looked down and saw—stand-in?
