"Meng, Meng Xingmang?" Xia Chuyi rubbed her ears. She hadn't heard wrong, had she?
"What's wrong?" Meng Zhaodi, no, it should be Meng Xingmang now, looked at Xia Chuyi with some puzzlement and said, "Is there a problem with my name?"
Xia Chuyi shook her head and said, "No, there's no problem, it's quite good."
She scrutinized Meng Xingmang carefully, tracing the lines of her face and nodding inwardly.
There was no mistake, if one looked closely, Meng Xingmang's features hadn't changed much.
It was just the makeup and a difference in poise, compounded with the name "Meng Zhaodi," that initially prevented her from connecting the two identities.
No mistake, in her past life, she had known Meng Xingmang.
Back then, Meng Xingmang, as an outsider in a coastal city, had started with the modest business of sewing clothes and taking advantage of the manufacturing boom that followed had opened a garment factory, establishing a foothold in Guang City.
