Chapter 237: Agreement

Chapter 237: The Pact

On New Year's Eve night, Wen Xian brought Jiang Zhiyi home.

He had warned Zhang Xiaoping in advance that he would be bringing his significant other.

At his age, they figured it was about time he found someone, so she said with a laugh, "That's great! Bring them over for us to meet and help you check them out."

Despite being mentally prepared, when Jiang Zhiyi actually stood at the door, Zhang Xiaoping and Wen Huarong still got a shock.

Though same-sex marriage was legal, it wasn't mainstream. Older generations tended to hold conservative views. Zhang Xiaoping looked stunned, while Wen Huarong clearly grew upset.

Seeing their expressions, Jiang Zhiyi's smile stiffened slightly. He was about to say something to smooth things over when Wen Huarong abruptly pulled Wen Xian aside and said through gritted teeth, "You brat! So that's why your grades tanked in high school for a while, making me get scolded by your homeroom teacher at the parent-teacher meeting—you were dating early?!"

Jiang Zhiyi: "..."

So *that* was the issue?

His words of explanation stuck in his throat—unsure whether to speak or stay silent.

Wen Xian shot back, "No way! We weren't together in high school! We only got together after I graduated!"

Wen Zhu looked around, saying nothing.

As the one who knew the truth, Wen Zhu had just met with Jiang Zhiyi that afternoon. They'd sat on opposite sides, locked in a heated argument. Hearing this, he gave his younger brother a complicated glance before rustling his newspaper.

Wen Huarong clearly didn't believe it, but since his son had already graduated, there wasn't much he could nag about. He simply turned and beckoned Jiang Zhiyi, "Come on in, Zhiyi."

Zhang Xiaoping added, "I was wondering who Wen Xian suddenly said he was dating—so it's you! That puts my mind at ease."

Neither of them were old-fashioned. More than gender, they worried about Wen Xian's impulsive nature and poor judgment—he might pick someone with personality or family issues. But Jiang Zhiyi was someone they already knew. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they'd watched him grow up. He'd even helped Wen Xian during high school. He was a reliable kid they trusted completely. The more Zhang Xiaoping looked at him, the more she liked him.

This meeting was completely different from their past life.

They brought Jiang Zhiyi home, spending the New Year's Eve together as a family, then crowding into the living room to watch fireworks outside and wait for the midnight chime.

Heavy snow fell outside, but inside was warm and cozy. Zhang Xiaoping chatted with Jiang Zhiyi, first about embarrassing stories from Wen Xian's childhood, then moving on to wedding details. Jiang Zhiyi was actually quite good at charming older people, speaking with just the right tact. If not for their disastrous first encounter in their previous life, his relationship with the Wen family wouldn't have been so strained.

Everything was moving in a positive direction.

Except for one thing...

While the family stayed in the living room, Wen Xian slipped away unnoticed into a bedroom.

The room was empty, but the TV was still on, broadcasting the New Year’s gala. The stage was awash in bright reds and greens, colorful lights reflecting off the snow-white bedsheets. The inexplicable sound of potato chips crunching filled the air, making the scene feel like something from a horror movie.

Wen Xian: "66? I'm turning on the light."

"Mhm, okay," 66 mumbled through a mouthful of food. "Mm, Host, why'd you come in?"

Wen Xian: "I brought you a New Year's gift."

With that, he pushed a beautifully wrapped gift box toward 66—triple-layered, stacked like a little tower. "Here, chocolates. A new flavor, not even on the market yet. I got them from a friend. See if you like them?"

66: "Wow! Boozy chocolates! I love these! Thanks, Host!"

It clutched the gift box tightly, refusing to let go.

Wen Xian sighed in relief. "Glad you like them."

66 had tried many kinds of snacks at Wen Xian's place, but its favorite was chocolate.

As the heartbreak system that brought the two together, 66 never stopped receiving treats. Wen Xian made sure there were always snacks on hand, and even added special meals during holidays. Occasionally, when 66 got cravings, it would use its screen to search for top-rated restaurants and then boldly insist that Wen Xian take it out to eat.

What could Wen Xian do? As a host who had messed up his mission completely, he had no choice but to give in.

He would sneak into restaurants, sit in the farthest corner, and order a meal for two—only to watch as the cutlery clinked mysteriously and the food vanished without a trace.

At first, Wen Xian would twitch with discomfort, but eventually, he grew used to it.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he lifted 66 off the gift box, tore open the wrapping, and neatly placed the chocolate balls on a plate. After a long silence, he suddenly said, "66, you’ll have to leave soon, won’t you?"

The system had sent Wen Xian back to the past to fix his mistakes—he wasn’t supposed to rescue Jiang Zhiyi from that alley, nor meet him on that rainy night and bring him home. Their lives should have remained like parallel lines, stretching forward without ever crossing. And once their entanglement was fully undone, it would be time for 66 to go.

Thinking about this, Wen Xian’s gaze drifted.

There was no smoothing things over now—he’d already brought someone home, picked out rings, and set a wedding date. Those parallel lines had coiled into knots. 66 must be getting ready to leave.

66 swallowed a chocolate ball and gave a soft hiccup. "Yep! Once you get married, I’ll be gone!"

Though Wen Xian hadn't completed his mission properly, he kept up with treats, communicated well, and hunted worldwide for delicious snacks. All in all, compared to the previous hosts he'd been paired with—most of them eccentrics—Wen Xian ranked among the best, and 66 quite liked him.

Wen Xian lay back on the edge of the bed. "...Alright. I'll give you the biggest wedding sweet when the time comes."

If anyone deserved credit for this marriage, it was the heartbreak system, 66. Having spent so much time together, Wen Xian felt a bit reluctant to part ways.

After a moment of silence, 66 suddenly poked Wen Xian with its sharp edge and quietly made a request. "Host, for the wedding sweets, I want that chocolate you used to bribe me with before."

Back when Wen Xian had tricked 66 into revealing plot details, he had offered it a box of chocolates—a niche brand hand-carried back from overseas by Wen Huarong. 66 had loved it and asked for more later, but when Wen Xian checked, the brand had been discontinued, so the matter was dropped.

Wen Xian winced. "That might be tough. I’ll try my best."

The chocolates were no longer in production, so they couldn’t be found on shelves. But some distributors might still have remaining inventory in storage. It wouldn’t be easy, but with enough effort, it could be done.

Satisfied, 66 lay back contentedly.

*

After the Spring Festival, preparations kicked off in full.

When choosing the wedding date, Zhang Xiaoping specially consulted a master diviner, who calculated carefully and chose a day deemed auspicious for weddings, homecomings, and all other matters. Wen Xian looked closely—it was the exact same day as in his past life.

He guessed that, somewhere beyond his knowledge, Jiang Zhiyi in his former life had also asked about it.

But although the date was the same, the situation was entirely different this time. After exchanging rings, the band stayed securely on Wen Xian’s finger, never to be removed again. And when Jiang Zhiyi raised a glass, Wen Huarong and Zhang Xiaoping drank politely, their eyes warm, none of the old distance remaining.

The band played music, the emcee recited blessings, and the banquet ended in joy and celebration.

One thing puzzled most guests, though—a single small table sat at the edge of the hall.

No one occupied it, yet every dish was served in abundance, and a baby high chair stood beside it. When curious guests asked, Wen Xian simply smiled and said it was a miscount—we ordered too much.

When he and Jiang Zhiyi circulated to toast the guests, they didn’t skip this table either. Hidden behind a pillar, Wen Xian raised his glass from afar and drained it in a single gulp, fulfilling the gesture.

Jiang Zhiyi didn’t understand but followed suit, lifting his own glass. And where he couldn’t see, a small wine glass gurgled softly.

Once the banquet ended and the guests had left, Wen Xian took the chance to circle back while seeing people off. He tapped the baby chair and quietly passed something across. "Here."

It was a specially made wedding sweet box—more than twice the size of those given to other guests.

In a corner hidden from cameras, the ribbon around the box loosened itself, revealing not ordinary candies, but a pile of those long-gone chocolates.

Slouching against the chair, Wen Xian said with his hands in his pockets, "I contacted the distributor to get these. They've been sitting in cold storage and were almost expired. Lucky me, huh? Wanna see if they still taste the same?"

The bright wrappers came off one after another, and as the chocolate balls touched a flat surface, they got nibbled away bit by bit.

66: "Mmm, yeah... so good."

It kept unwrapping them until the pile of wrappers grew. Only then did it gather the remaining candies and tuck them all back.

66 climbed onto the table, but even standing there, it was still too short to meet Wen Xian’s eyes: "Host, I gotta go."

Wen Xian: "Yeah, take care."

66: "Thanks for the wedding sweets. Well... I have a gift for you too."

Wen Xian raised an eyebrow—he had no clue what this little AI could possibly give him. "Oh? What is it?"

66: "You’ve got regrets, don’t you? About your past life."

Wen Xian went still. A string of code scrolled across the system's screen, followed by three words:

—I agree.

66: "Say it out loud."

Wen Xian smirked. "Hold up, is this a marriage proposal?"

66 poked him hard. "Say it!"

The system sounded dead serious, so Wen Xian dropped the joking tone. "Fine. I agree."

A mechanical electronic voice sounded, and the detachment program activated. A countdown started ticking in his head. Before the timer reached zero, a waving emoji appeared on the screen.

66: "Goodbye."

The next second, the countdown ended. Wen Xian’s eyes stung for a second—the small screen was gone. He whispered softly, "Goodbye."

Wen Xian had been standing alone in the corner for too long, so Jiang Zhiyi wandered over to check on him. "Wen Xian? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Wen Xian took his hand. "Let’s go."

66 was gone, but for Wen Xian, this life was just beginning.

Later, as Wen Xian had envisioned, he and Jiang Zhiyi traveled to many places. They saw the auroras, skied on the northernmost snow trails, and walked side by side through half a lifetime. Their careers took off, their family was happy, and when Wen Xian searched his heart, he felt he had no regrets left.

During busy times at work, Jiang Zhiyi occasionally suffered from insomnia and vivid dreams—mostly pleasant, but some nightmares. Whenever that happened, he’d burrow into Wen Xian’s arms, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Wen Xian, I dreamed about high school."

Sweating bullets, Wen Xian held him soothingly. "What about high school? Did you dream about failing an exam? Or a teacher scolding you?"

"Neither." Jiang Zhiyi hesitated. "I dreamed... that on that rainy night, you didn’t let me into your car."

Wen Xian’s hand stilled.

The divergence between his past life and this one had begun with that downpour.

Slowly, he rubbed his lover’s back, pulling him closer. Softly, he said, "That wouldn’t happen. You’re already here."

Now that you’re here, you’re staying.

To Jiang Zhiyi, this was just a blip—a small, ordinary moment in life. After the night passed, the sun would rise as usual, and tomorrow would be another beautiful day. But in the quiet of the night, Wen Xian sometimes thought back to his past life—to the chocolate-loving AI, and to those last words: "I agree."

The days flowed by like water. At the end of life, after the final exhaustion and suffering, Wen Xian heard the heart monitor flatlining.

Then—suddenly—he was sitting in a car.

It was a high-end supercar, parked by the roadside. Wen Xian was in the driver’s seat. Bleary-eyed, he looked around—it was the peak of evening rush hour, horns blaring noisily, cars crawling like ants in a jam.

He pressed his throbbing temples and reached toward the back seat.

His fingers closed around a divorce agreement.