Chapter 3

Xie Zhi held a large bouquet of roses in both arms, a document envelope in his left hand, and frowned when he saw a ring box being offered to him, hesitating to reach out.
Fang Xianxing found it somewhat amusing.
Be it the flowers or the envelope, he could set them aside first—why trouble himself by holding everything at once?
Even the wedding ring she handed him only needed a quick pass through his hand before he could put it aside.
Unable to watch him struggle, Fang Xianxing leaned forward to help lighten his load, thinking that since many boys liked flowers, she’d just take the envelope from his hand.
Who knew Xie Zhi’s frown would deepen? In a slight hurry, he stuffed the roses into Fang Xianxing’s arms, and with his now-free hand, he quickly snatched the ring box from her, his eyes darting over his own body.
He wore only a white shirt on his upper body, chosen for convenience during their marriage photo at the Civil Affairs Bureau. He didn’t particularly want to undress or dress in front of Fang Xianxing—or at the bureau, for that matter—so he hadn’t worn a jacket.
With no shirt pocket available, Xie Zhi stuffed the ring box entirely into his trouser pocket, creating a bulge that drew Fang Xianxing’s gaze.
Noticing her stare, Xie Zhi shot her a sidelong glance.
Fang Xianxing’s face flushed red. She hurriedly placed the roses between the driver’s and passenger’s seats, sat back upright, checked the road conditions, and adopted a focused air of “I’m driving now, don’t disturb me.”
She absolutely hadn’t meant to act improperly just then—she was merely surprised that someone as refined and breezy as Xie Zhi, a man of clear winds and bright moons, could be so careless, with that bulging pocket looking so unseemly.
Was he too nervous?
Fang Xianxing drove steadily, unable to suppress a soft chuckle. When Xie Zhi looked over, she stifled her laughter, and the two continued toward the Civil Affairs Bureau in slight silence.
Xie Zhi’s fingers tightened slightly on the envelope, his gaze lingering on the curve of Fang Xianxing’s lips when she’d smiled, lost in thought for a moment.
Fang Xianxing seemed in high spirits. If he spoke up soon, she’d probably agree easily.
After all, compared to the prenuptial agreements she’d handed him yesterday, the one in his hand was child’s play.
The Civil Affairs Bureau wasn’t far from the Cultural Relics and Archaeology Institute. Soon, the flashy red car began to slow, pulling into the main road before the bureau, searching for a temporary parking spot among the cars lined along the way.
A newlywed couple, fresh from the bureau, paused their clingy arm-in-arm whispering to glance at the car.
“Wife-master, what a cool car,” the round-faced man said, his eyes sparkling as he tugged at his wife-master’s hand.
His wife-master wrinkled her nose. “It’s just a nice car. Come on, I’ll rent you an even cooler one for our wedding day!”
“Really?” The man beamed, dragging his wife-master forward. “A red Zhao one, maybe?”
A slightly pained reply came: “Sure!”
Fang Xianxing finally found a convenient temporary parking spot, inwardly breathing a small sigh of relief. She’d nearly embarrassed herself in front of her new gentleman.
The Civil Affairs Bureau handled more than just marriage registrations—there were divorce proceedings, relief and resettlement procedures too.
Aside from marriages, which only required the couple, other matters sometimes involved entire families, so the place was always crowded.
Before coming, Fang Xianxing had asked Xu Mi to make an appointment, allowing them to use a special window and finish quickly.
“We’re here. My marriage documents are in the glovebox—can you grab them for me?” Fang Xianxing parked, unbuckled her seatbelt, and prepared to step out and gallantly open the passenger door for Xie Zhi.
“Wait a moment.”
Xie Zhi reached out to stop Fang Xianxing as she started to rise, accidentally brushing her wrist. He quickly pulled back.
The warm, soft touch of another’s skin made his heart clench.
He didn’t dislike it, but he didn’t like it either—unaccustomed, he silently reminded himself to be more careful next time, to avoid touching her.
Fang Xianxing settled back into her seat, turning to look at him with confusion.
“Yesterday…” Xie Zhi’s jade-like knuckles pressed tightly against the envelope, struggling to speak.
This was his first time making a request of someone other than his mother or father—a request that paled in comparison to Fang Xianxing’s demands, but for a man, it wasn’t trivial.

“Whatever it is, just say it,” Fang Xianxing said, noticing his thumb whitening under pressure, feeling a twinge of nerves on his behalf.
Her deliberately softened tone carried a warmth that briefly eased Xie Zhi’s tension. Steadying himself, he began, “Yesterday’s agreements didn’t include any terms about divorce.”
“They did,” Fang Xianxing replied, blinking in surprise that this was what he wanted to discuss. “Post-divorce property division, aside from what you waived, follows legal statutes.”
“Not that.” Xie Zhi shook his head, pulling three copies of a divorce agreement from the envelope he’d been holding. “The agreements you gave me lack a divorce contract. To prevent me from clinging to you via our marriage later, it’d be better to sign an extra divorce agreement, with the divorce date set three years from now clearly stated.”
Seeing the way Xie Zhi looked at her, Fang Xianxing let out a dumbfounded laugh.
Was Xie Zhi belittling himself to trick her into signing a divorce agreement?
What an odd negotiation tactic.
“We’re not married yet—how can we sign a divorce agreement?” Fang Xianxing didn’t take the papers from his hand.
Xie Zhi hadn’t expected her refusal. In his view, since Fang Xianxing had already been upfront about this being a fake marriage, what harm was there in adding a divorce agreement?
Seeing him freeze, Fang Xianxing took the divorce papers from his hand, setting them on her lap to straighten them. “I’m a merchant—I keep my word. Three years after we register, we can arrange the divorce. There’s no need to sign a divorce agreement.”
She’d considered the possibility that Xie Zhi might like her, even planned how to adjust the prenup if they fell in love post-marriage. But if they truly didn’t suit each other in the end, yesterday’s terms would still stand.
“Why not sign it?” A flash of irritation crossed Xie Zhi’s eyes, his voice dropping several degrees, as if doused with ice water. “If your word alone were enough, why did President Fang bother making me sign those prenups yesterday? Or does President Fang usually do business without contracts, relying on verbal promises?”
The car’s atmosphere grew tense in an instant. The faint smile on Fang Xianxing’s face vanished, her eyes masking confusion as she turned to Xie Zhi.
Across the large bouquet of red roses, Xie Zhi’s pale face reflected a hint of red, but it did nothing to warm his icy demeanor.
Cold and piercing.
Fang Xianxing was utterly baffled. She was starting to believe men were irrational creatures.
Just because she wouldn’t sign the divorce agreement, he’d withdrawn his special gentleness toward her, revealing this frigid side.
He must like divorce agreements more than her.
Fine, then. If he didn’t like her, it was better—less disruption to her plans.
Fang Xianxing frowned, flicking the divorce papers with her hand, her tone turning businesslike. “The extra divorce compensation I promised you has already been sent to a virtual account—it’ll transfer to your card automatically in three years. You saw the electronic receipt during notarization yesterday. I said three years of fake marriage, and it’ll be three years—not a day less, not a day more. I’ve no reason to deceive a mere man like you. If you’re still uneasy, you can sue for divorce in three years. As for the divorce agreement, I won’t sign it.”
“A fake marriage isn’t something to flaunt. If it got out, it’d harm you, me, our families, and my company. I won’t sign anything that leaves a traceable handle for others to grasp.”
“We don’t have to notarize it first,” Xie Zhi said, frowning as he reached to take the divorce papers back from Fang Xianxing.
If he could sue for divorce, would he be bothering with all this?
His mother and father would never allow him to file for divorce. Legal codes and moral customs mostly favored reconciliation over separation, leaving the initiative in Fang Xianxing’s hands.
If she reneged, he’d have no defense, and others would just see him as a troublemaker who didn’t cherish his blessings.
Fang Xianxing dodged, grabbing his wrist and pushing him back. “We’ve only known each other three days. Whether it’s a signed divorce agreement filed at the notary or in your possession, I don’t trust it.”
“You can call me petty for suspecting a gentleman’s honor, but I need absolute certainty that a fake divorce scandal won’t suddenly hit the headlines one day.”
“You’re so focused on your absolute certainty, yet you expect me to trust your verbal promise. President Fang sure knows how to play her cards.”
Scheming merchant!
Xie Zhi cursed inwardly, his words dripping with sarcasm.
Fang Xianxing raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t exactly honorable, but what business contract in this world was ever completely fair? Naturally, the greater profit went to her.
“You’re sure you won’t sign?!” Xie Zhi glared at her, gritting his teeth, a spark of anger gathering in his eyes.
Fang Xianxing crumpled the divorce papers into a ball with both hands, tossing them casually to the back seat, then met Xie Zhi’s gaze with a provocative look.
No signing.
What do you do when a business partner flips out? Flip out faster—whoever falters is the loser!
Seeing Fang Xianxing wouldn’t budge, Xie Zhi fumed, pulling out his phone and opening his contacts. “Fine, perfect timing. Better we realize we can’t agree before registering. Since President Fang won’t sign, please void yesterday’s prenups, and we’ll each find someone else.”
Fang Xianxing’s body stiffened. Wait, this wasn’t a contract negotiation.
After meeting so many people, she’d finally found someone agreeable, signed the prenups, and was one step from registering… only for it to fall apart?!
Her sister already knew she was marrying Xie Zhi, and her father knew things were going smoothly with him.
How had it turned into such a mess?
“What are you doing?” Fang Xianxing eyed Xie Zhi warily as he scrolled through his contacts. Calling his father to tattle?
Hah, as if she’d care. Worst case, she’d just avoid home for a few months.
“Finding someone to marry,” Xie Zhi spat through clenched teeth.
“Huh?” Fang Xianxing blinked, bewildered, watching his fingers flick through a long list of numbers. “You’ve got a backup? Or are you playing the field?”
It bordered on slander. Xie Zhi turned to glare at her, his fingers still moving, randomly selecting a number. Without looking, he pressed it to his ear.
Random? It had to be random, right? Fang Xianxing stared, stunned.
What was wrong with this Xie Zhi? Throwing a tantrum was one thing, but randomly picking a wife-master? Even if he was fishing, shouldn’t he at least choose carefully?
Realizing he was the son of her father’s colleague and she couldn’t let him act so recklessly, Fang Xianxing lunged after he said, “This is Xie Zhi,” snatching the phone and hanging up.
“Is this really worth being so rash over!”