Chapter 4

With that glare from Xie Zhi, even though he didn’t utter a word, Fang Xianxing felt as if she could hear him silently cursing her for being shameless.
Most people in archaeology revered history as if it sat on a divine throne, and someone like Xie Zhi, who set an ancient figure’s portrait as his phone wallpaper, was likely beyond hope.
Fang Xianxing pursed her lips—there were always those in this world who cherished the past over the present.
Were modern people truly lesser than their ancestors?
If Xie Zhi crossed back to ancient times, would those women, steeped in outdated notions of female dominance and male subservience, consent to signing a divorce agreement before marriage?
They might simply confine him as the eighteenth concubine, locking him away in the rear courtyard for life!
These past few years had been a smooth ride for Fang Xianxing, surrounded by admiring gazes. Even those plotting against her would offer a grudging compliment or two, recognizing her worth as a target. But Xie Zhi—
At the Civil Affairs Bureau, over a divorce agreement, he backed out of their marriage right before her eyes, then brazenly chose his next partner at random.
What did he take her for?
Fang Xianxing grumbled inwardly, her eyes flicking toward Xie Zhi as her frustration mounted.
Xie Zhi didn’t persist with his ridiculous phone call. Instead, he gazed intently at the ancient figure on his phone wallpaper, the earlier sharpness in his demeanor fading entirely.
Truly, words failed to capture it.
After a brief silence, the tension in the car softened slightly.
Xie Zhi’s thumb brushed across the portrait of Wen Ru on his screen, his lips tightening as he stole a glance at Fang Xianxing. Their eyes met for an instant as she looked over, and both swiftly turned away.
When Fang Xianxing glanced again, she noticed a change in Xie Zhi’s mood.
His phone screen had darkened, yet he kept his head bowed, thumb sliding aimlessly over it, long lashes quivering faintly.
In mere seconds, a tear fell with a “plop” onto the screen, followed closely by another.
Fang Xianxing started, sitting up straight, her words stumbling out.
“You… why are you crying? I haven’t mistreated you…”
“That divorce agreement—I truly can’t sign it. If the fake marriage leaks to the public, it’ll tarnish the company’s reputation. I must consider all my employees, mustn’t I?”
“At worst, we skip the marriage. A divorce agreement isn’t vital—surely someone would sign it for you.”
“But don’t rush into a decision. Faces can be known, hearts cannot. Can one phone call truly find you a worthy wife-master?”
Fang Xianxing persuaded him while nursing a headache, gently tossing the car’s tissue box into Xie Zhi’s lap.
Xie Zhi paid the tissue box no mind, head still lowered. When he spoke, his voice trembled with a stifled sob: “Is President Fang willing to bear responsibility for the company and its workers, yet not for a future husband?”
“Naturally, women have vast ambitions, far horizons, a vibrant world to conquer. Love, marriage, family, even children—they’re mere ornaments in your lives. When they grow tiresome, they might even become burdens. Only men are foolish, cradling those things close, dreading a single misstep that could lead to ruin.”
“When I first met President Fang, I thought she was free of such faults.”
“Yet, in the end, President Fang is a woman, incapable of grasping the wound divorce inflicts on a man. Cast-off husband, second-hand goods, a wanton man touched by more than one woman—those labels won’t touch President Fang, so she can simply overlook them?”
Xie Zhi turned to her, his tear-brimmed eyes misty, making him resemble a crystal on the verge of shattering into countless shards, yet held together by sheer stubbornness.
Fang Xianxing fell silent, her gaze tracing Xie Zhi’s form several times. She opened her mouth to speak, only to quietly press her lips shut.
“I don’t hold this against President Fang. All I seek is a divorce agreement. I thought, should I one day find a wife-master who truly cherishes me, I could not only free myself swiftly but also present the agreement as proof of my purity. Yet even this modest wish, President Fang refuses to grant?”
A beautiful, helpless man—who wouldn’t fault a woman for denying his plea?
Yet Fang Xianxing responded with steely resolve: “Xie Zhi, are you feigning pity before me?”
Xie Zhi’s trembling shoulders froze. A teardrop, dislodged by his sudden stillness, rolled down his face, leaving a less-than-flawless streak. After a moment’s quiet, he fixed her with red-rimmed eyes, teeth faintly clenched: “Fang Xianxing, have you no trace of compassion?”
Fang Xianxing possessed compassion—abundance of it. The instant Xie Zhi wept, her heart softened. But the more he spoke, the more unease crept in.
Whether his words rang true, she couldn’t discern, but his tears… they bore the mark of a beauty’s ploy.
“My compassion is reserved for honest words, Xie Zhi. Are yours sincere? Do those matters truly weigh on you so?” Fang Xianxing trusted her knack for spotting a beauty’s ruse—Xie Zhi was indeed playing the victim.
Xie Zhi studied her up and down, then turned away, drawing a tissue. His expression chilled as he wiped the tear stains from his face: “Since we’re not registering, President Fang, please drive me back to the institute.”
His voice still rasped from crying, but he’d slipped back into cold detachment. Fang Xianxing inwardly marveled. Had Xie Zhi debuted under Song Longsha, how could he still linger as a seventeenth-tier nobody?
“No, now I’m intrigued. Xie Zhi, why are you so intent on a blind-date marriage?” Fang Xianxing asked earnestly. “You seem indifferent to whom you wed or how, yet fixated on divorce. If so, why marry at all? Pressured by family? Yet, from what I know, you’re an only child, your mother at the Education Bureau, your father a middle school teacher—neither strikes me as unreasonable. How could they drive you to stage a marriage with me?”
“If it’s my person, my status, or my wealth, spare me the claim. You hardly seem impressed.” Fang Xianxing added with a numb expression.
“What good would telling you do?” Xie Zhi replied coolly, already finding Fang Xianxing a nuisance.
He shouldn’t have chosen so carelessly.
When he’d hinted to his father about settling into marriage, his father had sent a pile of photos. Short on time and too idle to sift through, he’d plucked one at random, assuming a bit of charm would snare a simpleton.
Who could’ve foreseen he’d pick such a shrewd thorn!

Fang Xianxing tilted her head in thought: “I won’t sign a divorce agreement.”
“Then what’s left to discuss?” Xie Zhi said icily, hand resting on the car door, poised to step out.
“Wait,” Fang Xianxing interjected. “You’re hastening into marriage because you face a dilemma you can’t resolve alone. To sate my curiosity, I’ll assist you.”
Xie Zhi released the handle, turning to her, weighing the trustworthiness of her offer.
His eyes still held a faint redness. Fang Xianxing caught a glimpse and averted her gaze.
Even in pretense, Xie Zhi’s eyes remained clear, stirring pity in those who knew it was an act.
That face of his—it broke the rules.
After a long pause, Xie Zhi spoke: “I need a wife-master to sign a family consent form for me.”
“What consent form? Can’t your mother or father sign?” Fang Xianxing asked, perplexed.
Xie Zhi struggled with baring his heart. He gave her a deep look before revealing all: “A family consent form for the underwater archaeology team at Nanlinyang Boundary Sea, Taibeisha No. 1.”
“A month ago, Xiyai Kingdom’s Taibeisha No. 1 sank in the Boundary Sea and sought our nation’s aid. During salvage, workers uncovered an old Yuan Shun dynasty stone tablet on the seabed. Experts believe nearby waters may hold ancient ruins or a sunken ship from that era. Given the project’s scope and a shortage of underwater archaeologists, they’re recruiting nationwide.”
“I studied underwater archaeology.”
Fang Xianxing nodded: “You wish to join, but your mother and father object?”
Xie Zhi nodded.
“Because of the danger, I presume?” Fang Xianxing pressed on. “I recall free-diving mishaps occur yearly.”
Space and the deep sea—realms humanity had long chased with scant success. The challenge of underwater archaeology, particularly oceanic, was plain to see.
Xie Zhi’s face shadowed briefly.
Nationwide, underwater archaeologists were scarce, mostly women of exceptional vigor. The few male members were relegated to rivers and lakes, deep-sea ventures a distant dream.
Xie Zhi possessed the knowledge, diving skills, and had passed physical training, yet obstacles abounded.
That family consent form was one such hurdle.
As an only child, his family would never permit such peril.
Why not stay safe in the archaeology office, logging artifacts and tracing ancient designs, rather than risking all on a thankless task?
In one heated clash, his father had fumed, declaring that as long as he remained unwed, he must obey—dreams of Nanlinyang Boundary Sea were forbidden!
Xie Zhi: Understood. Time to seek a wife-master.
Fang Xianxing began to rue her earlier boldness. Even if they wed, signing that consent form for him felt wrong.
A living soul, painstakingly raised by his parents—how could she, a stranger, hold his fate?
“Diving technology has advanced greatly these years. Recently, our nation’s Shenshen No. 10 reached over ten thousand meters in the Mali Trench. Underwater archaeology depths pale beside that.”
Sensing Fang Xianxing’s wavering, Xie Zhi offered more.
Yet Fang Xianxing remained doubtful. Such comparisons didn’t hold—underwater archaeology demanded prolonged seabed labor, intricate tasks, and greater peril.
“I believe your parents mean well…” Rationally, Fang Xianxing saw no way to aid him.
Xie Zhi’s expression dimmed. He lit his phone, gazing at the portrait: “President Fang, have you ever longed to do something others couldn’t fathom?”
“I pursued archaeology for my fascination with Yuan Shun dynasty history, and underwater archaeology because a famed Yuan Shun minister vanished in a sea storm. Yet, over a thousand years have passed since Yuan Shun. Beyond sparse official records, few artifacts endure. Now, a Yuan Shun seabed relic emerges, and I’m barred from it.”
Xie Zhi’s bitter smile surfaced: “Years of studying underwater archaeology, only to pad my resume. Isn’t that laughable?”
“Venturing skyward or seaward carries risk, yes, but life brims with it—car crashes, plane wrecks, some even choke or drown. Should risk halt us?”
Regret laced Xie Zhi’s voice, a faint choke beneath it. His sudden candor lodged a lump in Fang Xianxing’s throat.
Indeed, what lacked risk?
For such a vital relic excavation, safeguards would be thorough. To presume disaster before starting was folly.
Fang Xianxing resolved: “Let’s register now—I’ll sign for you!”
“And the divorce agreement?” Hope glinted in Xie Zhi’s eyes.
Fang Xianxing rubbed her temples, pained: “That, I truly cannot sign.”
Xie Zhi’s lips tightened, disappointment clear: “Had I known my studies would amount to naught, I’d have shunned archaeology books and settled as a househusband. Then I’d not burden President Fang so.”
Fang Xianxing pictured the icy Xie Zhi as a househusband—brr, chilling: “Here’s my offer: I’ll call your family, craft an excuse to secure their signature. But heed this—stay safe. I won’t bear the guilt of harming another’s son.”
“Truly?” Delight sparked in Xie Zhi’s eyes as he gazed at her, more intent than ever.
Fang Xianxing sighed: “Truly. Only you doubt my honor. I, Fang Xianxing, stand by my word.”
Xie Zhi brushed past the latter remark, dialing his father while pulling a paper from a folder, handing both to Fang Xianxing.
A handwritten liability waiver, signed.
Fang Xianxing’s jaw dropped, hands fumbling as she took them.
Doubt crept in. The earlier pity was feigned—could this be too?
Had she, Fang Xianxing, stumbled into a snare?!