Chapter 7 Marry Me
It felt just like that day in the restaurant.
I was still drowning in the embarrassment of mistaking my blind date.
“Sorry.”
I slung my bag over my shoulder and turned to leave.
His hand reached back, lightly catching the strap of my backpack.
That fox-like look—so unfairly charming.
“I can marry you.”
“But I don’t want a marriage that’s all respect on the surface and polite distance underneath.”
“I want us to love each other completely.”
“Lin Xia Yi, can you do that?”
I just couldn’t bear to see him hurt anymore.
“Okay.”
He heard my answer.
Yet he froze, forgetting to even blink.
I had to remind him. “Did you bring your ID?”
He nodded.
I hadn’t brought mine, so he drove me home.
I unlocked the door and rummaged through drawers for my ID.
My mom walked in and asked what I was looking for.
Before I could answer, she started again.
“You’re not young anymore, always running around like crazy.”
“Do you know Ji Chuan is back? He just dropped by with some local specialties and asked if you’re coming to our friend’s baby’s full-moon banquet next month.”
“Did you block Ji Chuan? You two—”
I found my ID. “Mom.”
My eyes were bright, some indescribable feeling swelling inside me.
“Mom, I’m going to marry someone who really, really likes me.”
My mom froze.
“Then… do you like him?”
“I do.”
“Oh. Congratulations.”
Before she could process it, I dashed downstairs.
Song Zhong Zheng was waiting by the car.
I pulled the door open to get in. He caught my wrist. “Have you thought this through?”
I nodded.
He stared at me, fingers brushing the chain around his neck.
“Lin Xia Yi, give me your hand.”
I opened my palm. He placed a GRAFF teardrop-shaped ring in it.
That summer after the college entrance exam, I had seen it at a jewelry exhibition. I loved it so much I posted it on my Moments.
No one really paid attention. Even I almost forgot.
I never imagined it would one day rest on my ring finger.
Until now, it had always stayed closest to Song Zhong Zheng’s heart.
The evening we received our marriage certificate, we stood under a streetlamp.
A light drizzle fell over Beijing.
We shared one umbrella.
He asked, “Do you still need to go back to school?”
I shook my head. “Winter break started.”
He said he was originally supposed to fly back to Paris tonight for work.
“Oh.” I looked down at our joined hands. “Then go ahead.”
He laughed softly above my head.
“I was asking if you want to come with me.”
Outside the airport’s glass curtain wall, night fell in shades of blue.
I followed him onto the Gulfstream private jet.
I left the city that had once made me feel so lonely and sad.
On the plane, Song Zhong Zheng handed me a card.
He said he never thought he would actually get to marry me—the money was originally meant as a wedding gift.
I checked the balance and couldn’t help saying,
“If you really gave it to me, it would’ve been to crash the wedding.”
He ruffled my hair with a smile, pulled me close, and started telling me about his assets.
My head spun.
“Wait.”
I took out my phone and hid in the corner to message my best friend.
“Send me that video you always forward again.”
She reacted fast and resent “Wake Up One Day as a Rich Wife, Bestie Turned into a Tycoon Family.”
I immediately transferred her a huge amount.
That night she couldn’t sleep.
She messaged me shakily: “Is it illegal to hire male models?”
The week we arrived in Paris was Christmas season.
Song Zhong Zheng took me to meet his mother.
“So you’re little Lin Xia Yi.”
“You know me?”
“Of course. Zhong Zheng bought a notebook when he was a teenager and—”
He cut his mom off before she finished, changing the subject.
On the way back to his villa, snow drifted down.
He held my hand. We left footprints in the sparkling starlight.
Song Zhong Zheng bought me so many things.
He decorated the entire lakeside villa beautifully.
The heating was warm inside.
His arm wrapped around me horizontally.
His pale skin flushed from holding back.
His hair on his forehead stuck messily to his skin as he breathed. Those misty eyes stayed clear and fixed on me.
I reached up and easily touched his hair.
He caught my hand in return.
Giving himself permission to move lower.
“Xia Yi, say something.”
“…Say what?”
“Anything.”
But my words broke apart, never whole.
He did it on purpose.
That morning I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and took a photo of the Paris sunrise.
I posted it on Moments.
Two messages came in.
One from my childhood friend: “Coming to my baby’s full-moon banquet?”
One from Ji Chuan’s mom: “Lin Xia Yi, Auntie wants to introduce a guy to you.”
I replied to both.
Back under the covers, Song Zhong Zheng pulled me into his arms.
He said we would return to China in a few days for the engagement.
He was someone who wanted everything proper. No step could be skipped.