At the end of June, I graduated from university.

After selling off my books and documents as waste paper, I carried my simple luggage to the house of Mu Bojun, my boyfriend of three months, only to find out the number of the buddy who often got drunk with him belonged to a woman.

My mind buzzed for a moment before quickly calming down.

As for such matters, I've practically become immune.

Mu Bojun, like my ex-boyfriends, asked time and time again for a ‘body and soul exchange', which I refused time and time again, causing repeated heartbreaks.

Crying, throwing a fit, threatening suicide, I've tried all these strategies with several of my ex-boyfriends, to no avail because no one cared about me.

But, just waiting around to be dumped wasn't my style.

After seven relationships, I haven't yet tasted the flavor of being the dumper. I may not be rich or beautiful, but I am certainly not poor or ugly. No, that's not right. I am a bit poor.

I'm 5'6", weigh less than 100 lbs, and it would not be an exaggeration to describe my figure as delicate and curvy. My big dewy eyes are my greatest pride. Why am I then the one being dumped time and time again? To be honest, it's not something I can live with.

This time, I have to be the one to dump him.

At least I have to do it before he confesses.

Even though it's a beautiful lie I've woven for myself, I'll grit my teeth and swallow it down. This time, I will leave him with a grand exit.

But, what should I do?

It was shortly after nine in the morning. I grabbed my phone, logged into QQ, and changed my status to "Seeking a quick marriage."

Not long after, an unfamiliar message ignited the rage I had suppressed deep within my heart.

"38250."

"You are the one who's a 38250." I retorted without a second thought.

Soon after, a smiley face and a sentence appeared in response, "This is your QQ number, I just said it for easy rememberance."

Indeed, the last five digits of my QQ number are “38250”, I unintentionally insulted the boss of Tencent because of a QQ number for the first time.

"Are you married?"

Ignoring his words, I was quick to press the "seeking a flash marriage" button.

"I can't find anyone to get married," he replied.

"How about we give it a try?"

"But I don’t have a house, car, or money."

"Are you gay, a such stubborn person, or a rebellious ruffian?" I asked persistently.

"No, no, no." The respondent sent three 'no's in a row.

"That's good, I also don’t have a house, car, or money. We are compatible, do you dare to try?" I asked challengingly.

"Just don't regret it."

"I am worried you will regret it.”

I gave out my contact information, arranged the time, and an hour later, I brought my ID and went downstairs.

"Hey, over here." Just arrived at the neighborhood's entrance, a man wearing a white polo shirt and elegant green leisure trousers is cheerfully waving at me. His bronze skin exudes sexiness, and he is about 180cm tall, my type indeed.

However...

The corner of my mouth is slightly raised. I want to laugh but I cannot. I am standing still in a daze.

"You're not scared, are you?" The man's slender eyes are slightly raised as his tall figure approaches me. His mouth curves into a smirk, yet it carries an overbearing pressure that hit me face on, "If you're scared, then never mind."

"I'm worried you might be the one who's scared," I manage a confident retort swiftly.

"Let's go." The man, ignoring my remark, proceeds to grab my hand. I dodge it by stepping back and follow him into the taxi parked by the roadside.

I sit stiffly in the back seat, my heart pounding uncontrollably. I sneak a peek at the man and find him perfectly calm, his deep-set eyes betray no emotion.

Just as I was contemplating what to say, my cell phone rings. It is a call from Mupo Jun. A note of derision plays in my heart, and I instantly silence the call.

The taxi stops at the entrance of the Civil Affairs Bureau. The previous tension and worry are washed away with Mupo Jun's incoming call. Yes, I'm getting married. I must dump him before he does the same to me. The farther I can dump him, the better.

Without hesitation, I step out of the taxi, grab the man's arm, and say boldly, "You're not allowed to change your mind."