Chapter 2: A Surprise Wife
Lin Lin was completely stunned.
Yuman looked up at the man in front of her—tall nose, deep-set eyes, perfectly chiseled jawline—he looked like a movie star.
But she already had someone she liked. Ma Xin, the boy from her village. She came to the city to earn money for him.
She figured this man—who she now knew was called Huo Jingze— was just trying to get back at his fiancée. If she didn't go along with his act, what if he refused to give her the ¥300,000?
So Yuman gave him a tiny nod.
"You're broke. Where'd you get money for a rock that size?" Lin Lin sneered, grabbing Huo Jingze's arm.
But he ignored her. Instead, he turned to Yuman.
"You brought your household registration booklet, right? You need it to work here."
Yuman nodded. Then shook her head. Then nodded again.
"It's in the dorm."
Her mind was a mess, but she was afraid that going against him would mean losing everything.
Jingze's gaze darkened. Clearly, he wasn't in the best mood.
On their way out, they ran into the bar manager.
"Bring her stuff from the dorm," Jingze ordered, pointing to Yuman.
The manager glanced at Yuman, whose clothes were still rumpled, and scoffed,
"She's an employee of Majestic. Staff must stay in the employee dorms. You have no right to take her."
"Then maybe I should call Song Jun," Jingze said coldly, "ask if it's time to replace Majestic's manager."
The manager's face stiffened. At the name "Song Jun", he swallowed his protest and reached for his walkie-talkie.
Within minutes, someone handed Jingze a woven sack stuffed with Yuman's belongings.
"Is your household book inside?" he asked, holding it with two fingers.
Yuman nodded, took the bag, squatted down, and pulled out the little red booklet. She handed it to him.
Behind them, Lin Lin snorted.
"Pretending with a fake ring. A broke loser and a bar girl—what a match made in heaven."
Yuman zipped up the bag and slung it over her shoulder. Her outfit was a strange mix of rural plainness and city trendiness.
Jingze glanced at her again. Her skin was fair and smooth, face delicate, eyes almond-shaped and bright. Her features were sweet, almost innocent.
She just dressed… a little country.
Once they left, Lin Lin transferred money to the manager.
"The ¥5,000 I promised. Check your WeChat."
The manager grinned ear to ear.
"Anytime you need help like this again, just call." He waved his phone before walking off.
Lin Lin muttered to herself,
"What a waste of money. If I hadn't misjudged him, I wouldn't touch that broke bastard with a ten-foot pole."
Outside the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Yuman sat on the steps, wrapped tightly in her coat. It was 7 a.m., but even in the middle of summer, Haijing City felt chilly.
Jingze stood below her, smoking. The morning fog mixed with the smoke, shrouding him in a haze.
A car pulled up. A middle-aged man got out and walked over.
Jingze crushed his cigarette and took the household book from the man.
"What took you so long?"
"Young Master, you told me to bring the shabbiest car from the garage. I had to dig out that dusty old Benz. But what do you need the household book for so early?"
"What do you think we're doing at the Civil Affairs Bureau?" Jingze said flatly. Then added, "Also, go buy an old two-bedroom apartment."
He wasn't planning to take Yuman back to his real home. He didn't know who she really was yet.
Yuman, still hugging her knees, watched them from a distance. She had no idea what they were talking about.
Does the act really have to go this far? Even his fiancée didn't follow him here…
After the car drove off, Jingze came to her.
He checked the time.
"One hour left. Are you hungry?"
Yuman shook her head.
But her stomach growled loudly, betraying her.
At a nearby noodle shop, she had already eaten two bowls.
Jingze sat across from her, arms folded, watching her eat with an amused expression.
She looks so skinny, but her appetite is impressive.
"Want a third bowl?" he asked.
She put down her chopsticks and shook her head.
Then leaned in, eyes darting left and right.
"Can you… lean closer?"
He frowned but leaned in reluctantly.
"I don't have any money," she whispered.
This woman seriously had no shame. She had no cash and still dared to eat two bowls.
"I've got enough for noodles," he said. "But later, you're helping me act."
After paying, he led her back to the Civil Affairs Bureau.
"Still acting? Your fiancée's not even here anymore."
She trailed behind him, her ill-fitting heels making her wince with every step.
Trying to catch up, she jogged a few steps—then crashed into his back when he stopped suddenly.
She clutched her nose in pain.
Without a word, he pulled her inside.
Two Marriage Declaration Forms were laid out in front of them.
Yuman turned her head stiffly to look at him.
He had already signed.
The clerk glanced at Yuman's neck, concern flashing across her face.
"Miss, marriage registration here must be done voluntarily."
Jingze leaned in close and whispered,
"¥300,000."
He didn't know what she needed the money for—but as long as she cooperated, that was enough.
Yuman picked up the pen and signed her name.
Soon after, they walked out, red marriage certificates in hand.
Yuman stared at the little red booklet, her voice low:
"Did the act really need to go this far? I'm officially married. What happens later—do I count as divorced?"
She looked at him, frustrated.
But Jingze's face was unreadable.
"Just play the role of my wife. You'll get your ¥300,000."
She shut her mouth. For Ma Xin, she would endure it.
Slinging her woven bag over her shoulder, she turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Jingze asked, grabbing her wrist.
"I lost the job my friend got me. I should at least go say sorry."
And I don't even have a place to stay anymore…
Jingze stared at her, genuinely confused.
"Your friend got you a job in that bar… and you're grateful?"
Was she stupid or just too kind?
Yuman pouted.
"The job didn't work out, but she tried to help. We're from the same village."
He watched her leave, frowning.
"I sent you the address of the apartment," he called out.
But she didn't hear him.
Across the street, Yuman spotted her friend heading into a building.
"Xiaomin!" she waved.
Zhao Xiaomin was wearing a skin-tight purple mini dress, holding onto a wall for support, clearly drunk.
When she saw Yuman, she waved excitedly, then immediately turned to throw up.
Yuman rushed over, patting her back.
"You okay?"
Back at Xiaomin's small rented apartment, Yuman handed her a glass of water.
Xiaomin propped her head up, muttering,
"Damn old man. Groped my thigh and didn't even leave a tip."
After sipping, she asked,
"How was your night?"
Yuman opened her mouth to answer—just as Xiaomin caught sight of the diamond ring on her finger.