With a cold huff, Tang Wan reached out with her ivory, delicate hand and pinched the button of Yang Chen's shirt. She shot him a flirtatious glare. "Italian hand-stitched, designed for royalty with no brand label—but the buttons are NE blue diamonds, cut with top-tier international craftsmanship.
This single shirt costs over ten million GH currency. Do you think no one knows quality, that you're wearing a knockoff with plastic buttons?"
Yang Chen flushed, surprised she'd recognized the shirt's true value. But he quickly grinned. "Sharp eye, Miss Tang. But you're wrong—the diamonds are from NY, not NE."
"Still denying you're a young master? Only a handful of people in Blue City can wear shirts with NY diamond buttons… Lying isn't fun." Tang Wan narrowed her eyes, annoyed.
Yang Chen took a few deep drags, flicking the cigarette butt into the river. "Tang Wan, let's be honest.
You're beautiful—I want to get to know you. But why would I pretend to be a kebab vendor to hit on you? I am a kebab vendor. Who says we can't wear ten-million-gha shirts? Can't we change the subject to something more romantic?"
"Rude," Tang Wan scolded without hesitation, then broke into a bright smile. "But I like your honesty. Fine, I'll take you at your word—for now. But Mr. Yang, I don't want to sleep with you. Especially not a kebab vendor. Not at all."
"Then why talk to me so long?" Yang Chen moped, disappointed he'd missed out on a willing beauty.
Tang Wan giggled, shaking with laughter. "You're so straightforward, Mr. Yang—easier on the eyes than those pretentious gentlemen. Too bad I'm not the kind of woman you think. I just needed to vent; I was upset earlier."
"And now?"
"Now I feel better. Thanks. If we meet again, I'll buy you tea."
She walked toward her Range Rover, then paused and turned back, smiling sweetly. "Oh, and don't blow smoke at women—most aren't nightclub girls who think that's charming." With that, she sashayed to the car.
Yang Chen watched the black Range Rover vanish into the night like a swift panther, muttering, "Is being a kebab vendor really that bad? Should I switch jobs?"
The next morning, Yang Chen was woken by loud banging on his door. Grumbling, he pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and opened it—Lin Ruoxi stood outside, her face icy.
Seeing his muscular torso, Lin Ruoxi blushed but looked away stiffly. "Hurry up and get dressed. I'm in a hurry."
Yang Chen scratched his head. "Miss Lin, getting married isn't a market rush. Can I shower and eat first?"
"No. I have a meeting at ten." Her tone left no room for argument. "Don't forget your household register and ID!"
Helpless against her stubbornness, Yang Chen threw on a shirt and shorts and followed her downstairs, climbing into her red Bentley.
Lin Ru tossed two large bags at him from the backseat, not looking back. "Put these on. Don't make a fool of me."
Yang Chen noticed she wore a formal beige OL suit—tailored by a famous designer, its sleek lines hugging her curves, complementing her cold, intellectual beauty. She was stunning enough to make any man's heart race.
"Heh, Wifey, buying clothes for your husband before we're even married…" Yang Chen grinned shamelessly, pulling out an Armani suit, trousers, and a pair of new Pierre Cardin leather shoes—clearly carefully prepared.
Lin Ruoxi focused on driving, pretending not to hear his cheeky tone.
Yang Chen was agile, changing into the luxury outfit easily in the cramped seat. He preened in the car mirror, styling his hair—looking sharp and refreshed.
Though she kept her eyes on the road, Lin Ruoxi couldn't help sneaking glances. When she saw him in the suit and tie, her heart skipped a beat.
It was shameful, but his carefree, rebellious air—and the faint sadness in his eyes—fascinated her. In the suit, he was far more charismatic than the spoiled rich boys she knew.
She told herself: At least he doesn't look like a slob. Won't embarrass me.
They stopped for photos, then sped to the Civil Affairs Bureau.
After getting out, Lin Ruoxi hesitated, then gritted her teeth and linked her arm through his, putting on a sweet, dependent smile.
"Good wife, starting the act already? So professional," Yang Chen teased.
"Stop laughing! Play your part! We signed a contract!" she snapped, glaring.
Yang Chen sighed, letting her hold on—he could brush against her soft chest occasionally. A little free affection never hurt.
Lin Ruoxi felt it, but bit her lip and endured. She'd have to pretend for years; a little teasing was worth it.
Inside, their striking looks turned heads. Yang Chen, in designer clothes, was handsome and carefree; Lin Ruoxi, breathtakingly beautiful. They looked like a perfect match.
A clerk verified their documents, processed the marriage certificate, and smiled warmly. "Congratulations! Here are your marriage licenses. You're a lovely couple—may you have a long, happy life together."
Lin Ruoxi, still linked to Yang Chen, blushed under the stares. Taking the certificate, she felt like she was dreaming.
I'm married… to a man I've known barely two days… She looked up dazedly at Yang Chen, who stared at the certificate, stunned.
Is he thinking the same? Is he unhappy… or happy? She wondered, then startled—why did she care what he thought?
Yang Chen turned, meeting her eyes with a smirk. "What's wrong, Wifey? Regretting it already? You dragged me here."
"As if I wanted to marry you!" she hissed quietly. "But don't worry—when I make a decision, I stick to it. Play along for three years like the contract says, and don't cause trouble."
Outside, Lin Ruoxi immediately let go of his arm, her face cold again. "I have to go to work. Go home."
"Home? You're not making me walk, are you?" Yang Chen groaned. His wife was ruthless—making him walk dozens of kilometers right after the wedding.
Lin Ruoxi pulled a card from her purse, handing it to him. It had an address written in delicate script: 89 Longjing Garden, Wenhua Road.
"Since we're married, we have to live together publicly. Move in with me—get out of that dump." With that, she got in the car and sped away.
Yang Chen's smile was more like a grimace. "Guess I'm walking after all."