More than half an hour later, outside the entrance of the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Qin Yuan stared at the red marriage certificate in his hand, feeling momentarily dazed. It felt like a dream—how on earth had he somehow, in a daze, just gotten married like this?
Inside the certificate were the personal details of himself and Wen Yue. Interestingly, their wedding photos presented a striking contrast.
One showed him looking stiff and forcing an awkward, reluctant smile; the other showed her wearing a detached, cool expression with a faint smirk, looking very much like someone who had just achieved her goal.
"Tomorrow morning at ten, come to Tianheng Building to find me. Tell them your name when you arrive, and someone will bring you up."
Wen Yue glanced at him and said flatly, "Remember to be on time. I don't like people who have no sense of time, or you know the consequences."
Qin Yuan blinked.
This woman was truly domineering.
"Tianheng Building? What am I going there for?" Qin Yuan asked tentatively.
"You'll find out when you come up, won't you?"
Wen Yue said indifferently, giving him a mysterious smile in response.
"Oh, then..."
Qin Yuan just started to speak, but at that exact moment,
a black Rolls-Royce Cullinan slowly pulled up to the entrance of the Civil Affairs Bureau. A formally dressed man in his forties stepped out.
He opened the rear door and stood beside it, casting a sharp, inadvertent glance at Qin Yuan standing not far away.
After just a couple of looks, his brow gradually furrowed, his skeptical gaze carrying a hint of disappointment and contempt.
"I can't take you back today, as I'm afraid you'd be homeless. You can go back and stay another night at the hotel ahead."
With that, without giving Qin Yuan a chance to speak, Wen Yue walked straight toward the Rolls-Royce.
As the housekeeper of the Wen family, Uncle Ming respectfully escorted Wen Yue into the car, then asked politely,
"Miss, shall we go home first, or back to the company?"
"Home first. Besides..."
Wen Yue glanced separately at Qin Yuan, who was still standing in place, and the marriage certificate in her hand, then continued,
"Uncle Ming, please tell my parents not to arrange any more blind dates for me. Aren't they doing this just to pressure me into getting married and make me come back from Country M early?"
"Now I'm back, and I've even found them a good husband. I know about the company's affairs; this time coming back from Country M, I'm not leaving. It's all for this matter."
Uncle Ming responded with a thoughtful nod, then started the car.
Yet Wen Yue's words gave him a headache. He couldn't help but steal a glance at Qin Yuan through the rearview mirror, trying to find anything about the man that he could accept and approve of.
No matter how he looked at it, however, Uncle Ming felt that the word "good" in "good husband" simply could not be applied to Qin Yuan.
He was tall and reasonably upright, and quite handsome indeed, but his temperament and attire instantly marked him as an impoverished young man.
With a person like him, he must surely be full of trouble himself. Forget about helping Wen Yue; it would be a blessing if he didn't hold her back.
After a moment of silence, Uncle Ming let out a helpless sigh in his heart, said, "Miss, I understand," and focused entirely on driving.
Qin Yuan watched as the Rolls-Royce vanished from his line of sight. He curled his lips slightly and couldn't help muttering under his breath,
"Leaving after just a few words? Cold, proud, and bossy—anyone who didn't know better would think we had just walked out of a divorce proceeding!"
Afterward, Qin Yuan hailed a taxi and returned to his previous hotel.
His duffel bag was still there; earlier, he had only taken his phone, ID card, and household register before Wen Yue dragged him off to the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Ever since his mother passed away, he had kept the household register in his own custody. Qin Yuan never expected that this self-managed document would make today's "farce" so convenient.
Inside the cab, Qin Yuan pulled out his phone. The screen showed two missed calls and two messages.
All of them were from Zhang Jiameng. Earlier, Qin Yuan's phone had been set to silent, so he hadn't heard a thing at all.
Zhang Jiameng: Qin Yuan, where the hell did you die? Grown some spine, have you? How dare you not pick up when I call you?
Zhang Jiameng: Before twelve o'clock noon, you must come home and cook for me!
Gazing at the messages sent by Zhang Jiameng, Qin Yuan's heart remained as still as water. He merely glanced at them roughly, exited the app, and chose to ignore them.
At 11:30 AM, Qin Yuan returned to the vicinity of the hotel, ate lunch, and then went back up to his room.
Thinking of this room—the "crime scene" of his wild night with Wen Yue just yesterday—Qin Yuan felt not a shred of happiness. Instead, he felt as though the room were a cage.
So, he packed his duffel bag, intending to go out and switch to another room.
Just as he started packing his bag, his phone suddenly rang, and he received another call from Zhang Jiameng.
Qin Yuan glanced at the phone and hung up without the slightest hesitation.
At that moment, Zhang Jiameng was lying on the bed in her room, frowning as she listened to the "number busy" voice prompt from her phone. Anger flared up instantly, and she slapped her palm against the blanket.
"Well, well, Qin Yuan! You actually dare to hang up on me? Were you deliberately ignoring my calls earlier, huh?"
Zhang Jiameng sat up from the bed, stubbornly dialing Qin Yuan's number again. Every time he hung up, she called back, repeating this three times in a row.
Finally, Qin Yuan answered her call. Before he could even speak, he was met with Zhang Jiameng's aggressive, furious voice:
"Qin Yuan, are you trying to rebel or something? How dare you hang up on me! The messages I sent and the calls I made earlier—couldn't you even bother to reply? Tell me, why didn't you come home to sleep last night? Where the hell were you running around playing?"
What a classic case of the culprit filing a complaint first.
Just who was the one running around playing? Having announced the severance of their relationship starting yesterday afternoon, Qin Yuan was no longer in a romantic relationship with Zhang Jiameng.
"I'm hungry, and I want to eat the food you cook for me when I come back at noon. Get back here right now, do you hear me?"
Hearing Zhang Jiameng's words, the silent Qin Yuan turned a deaf ear and went about stuffing his dirty laundry into the duffel bag.
Seeing no reply from the other end, Zhang Jiameng paused.
"Qin Yuan, are you listening to me?"
She took a deep breath, softened her tone slightly, and continued,
"Fine, fine. I heard from my mom—you were planning to propose to me yesterday, weren't you? There's no rush about that; we can take our time later. But what was that nonsense you said yesterday about breaking up with me? Qin Yuan, we're both adults, can you stop being so childish?"
"Come back at noon to cook me a meal and apologize to me, and I'll let the matter of you not coming home to sleep last night slide. I won't hold it against you."
Such "gracious words" were worse than unsaid; it was a total inversion of right and wrong.
Qin Yuan was so angry he laughed. Just who was being childish? Whose fault was it, and who was the one supposed to apologize?
He zipped up his duffel bag and calmly opened his mouth.