Chapter 5 Official Marriage Announcement

Chapter 5: Public Marriage Registration

He’s *already* acting? Zhu Zhixi almost gave him a thumbs-up.

With that face and acting skills, what a waste for him to be in academia. He should enter the entertainment industry—he could single-handedly boost the entertainment industry’s average IQ.

“Oh, you two are so sweet and well-matched,” the staff member gushed, clueless she was eating up a fake romance. “In my time working here, I’ve rarely seen an Alpha and Beta register for marriage. Most couples are Alpha-Omega pairs. You must be *really* in love to go this route.”

Not at all. Zhu Zhixi fought to keep a straight face, biting his lip as he turned to stare at Fu Rangyi’s stone-cold face to keep himself from bursting out.

Fu Rangyi clearly couldn’t take it either and forced a polite smile and asked, “Are the procedures almost done?”

“Yes, next is the photo session. The room is this way—I’ll take you there.”

The two followed behind, walking side by side but keeping space between them. After a few steps, Zhu Zhixi drifted closer.

He had a bad habit when walking—he always liked to crowd people. No matter who he was with, he’d inevitably invade their personal space.

This time was no exception. Despite being unfamiliar with his so-called “fiancé,” he had no concept of personal space and leaned in close, whispering, “Your name—Rangyi—is it the one from ‘the noble yield to the needy’?”

*The noble yield to the needy, taking hardship upon themselves and leaving ease to others.* His parents really set the bar sky-high to name their newborn after such an ideal.

When no answer came, Zhu Zhixi glanced sideways and found Fu Rangyi’s face went stormy.

What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?

“Not your concern.”

Zhu Zhixi nearly rolled his eyes. His personality was the complete opposite of what his parents had hoped for.

Slowing his steps, he hid behind Fu Rangyi and parroted in a whisper, “Not your concern~”

“Alright, lovebirds, stand here, please.”

Following instructions, the two stepped into the photo area. The photographer took a test shot and immediately sensed something off. Despite looking perfectly matched, there was a palpable “we’re being held hostage” vibe.

“Could you two stand a bit closer? This photo will be on your marriage certificate, after all. Yes, tall guy, scoot right.”

Fu Rangyi, still sulking, refused to cooperate.

“Come on, smile a little sweeter! Don’t be shy!”

Fu Rangyi silently stared at the photographer.

Dial it back, buddy.

But soon, he realized this wasn’t even the most enthusiastic person in the room.

Upon hearing the instruction, Zhu Zhixi suddenly clamped onto Fu Rangyi’s arm like a limpet, then turned and tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Work with me here, *smile*.”

Then, in a whisper laced with gritted teeth, he muttered, “Just smile, bro. Get it over with. Holding up real couples is bad juju…”

So Fu Rangyi’s mouth twitched upward and replied in an equally low voice, staring straight at him, “Real couples were also waiting in line at the registration desk. You forgot my name *five minutes ago*—you have no right to judge me.”

Zhu Zhixi smiled sweetly and whispered back, “Your *magnificent* name is burned into my brain now. Can you smile now?”

So Fu Rangyi’s mouth twitched upward again.

Zhu Zhixi took a deep breath, turned to the camera, and flashed a picture-perfect smile.

"Sorry, my husband's like this—he just isn’t much of a smiler. His facial muscles don’t flex much."

Hearing the term, Fu Rangyi nearly choked.

Zhu Zhixi was quite pleased. Who couldn't fight fire with fire? Especially when it came to Fu Rangyi himself.

"Haha, that’s how it should be! Smiling looks so much better. Come on! Three, two..."

In the past, countdowns like this wouldn’t have gotten a reaction out of Zhu Zhixi, but now, for some reason, he felt a weird little tug.

But as the final "one" hit, he still managed a smile, even tilting his head slightly toward Fu Rangyi’s shoulder and cheerfully calling out, "Cheese!"

As the flash went off, Fu Rangyi had a fleeting illusion—as if they weren’t at the marriage registration office, but Disney. It all felt like some kind of game.

After all, just minutes ago, this person couldn’t even spell his name right.

Somehow, in this crowded amusement park, they had collided, coincidentally assigned to the same row on the same rollercoaster. And now, as if forced by the staff, they were being awarded two badges of honor to celebrate their bold step into the grave of marriage.

Holding the two bright red "badges," Fu Rangyi felt nothing. Zhu Zhixi clearly didn’t either—he was now sitting at a table outside a convenience store, his mind entirely occupied by the Japanese stew he’d just ordered.

"Wanna try? The daikon is especially good. I’ll give you half with my chopsticks."

"No thanks, it’s all processed junk."

"A little won’t kill you," Zhu Zhixi muttered under his breath.

"It’ll just kill you sooner."

Given his sharp tongue, Fu Rangyi expected a retort, but instead, Zhu Zhixi just bit into the daikon, shrugged, and mumbled, "Eh, no big deal."

Fu Rangyi didn’t press further about his unhealthy eating habits. He flipped open the marriage certificate and glanced at the photo.

"When we get divorced, it’ll be here too, right?" Zhu Zhixi suddenly asked.

Hearing this, Fu Rangyi looked at him. There was a hint of innocence in Zhu Zhixi’s expression, confirming his earlier thought—this person genuinely didn’t care at all.

When he’d proposed the fake marriage, he’d expected rejection—after all, it was far from normal. But Zhu Zhixi had agreed immediately, nodding like a bobblehead, like he needed this too. Was it to avoid family pressure? Or, like Fu Rangyi, was he trying to escape something?

He couldn’t be bothered to wonder. After all, he had no plans to get chummy with this young master beyond their paperwork partnership.

"Yeah. On the divorce certificate, it’ll just be you. You can grin like an idiot, and no one will care."

"Don’t worry," Zhu Zhixi said, holding up the marriage certificate and placing the photo next to his face. "I’ll definitely smile even happier than this."

Fu Rangyi watched quietly.

He realized Zhu Zhixi had a face that stood out. Over the years, he’d met many people, seen many features—all bland in their own way, like doodles on a fogged-up window, vanishing with a single wipe of warmth.

But this person was different. Every part of his face had energy.

"Why are you staring at me?" Zhu Zhixi wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Did I get food on it?"

"No, just zoning out." Fu Rangyi took the certificate from his hand, placed it with his own, then pulled out his phone to take a photo.

"Putting this up online?" Zhu Zhixi leaned in to look.

This guy seems really desperate to flaunt being married, like he’s dying to shout it from the rooftops. Is he *that* hard up to tie the knot?

Fu Rangyi didn’t respond. He haphazardly snapped a pic, didn’t even bother checking it before opening WeChat and starting to edit his post.

“No, this photo looks so fake. Nobody *does* their announcement like *this*,” Zhu Zhixi said, grabbing the marriage certificates and reaching for Fu Rangyi’s phone.

Wondering what nonsense he’d come up with, Fu Rangyi handed it over. “Then how should it be announced?”

“If you’re gonna hide your face, at least get *both* hands in there.”

Zhu Zhixi moved the oden aside, laid the two marriage certificates flat on the table, and said, “People usually post pics with their hands stacked *like this*. Sometimes they even include their pets’ paws—adorable. But we don’t need that. I won’t be raising pets with you anyway…”

“How do you *not* run out of breath talking this much?” Fu Rangyi couldn’t help but interrupt.

“Nah, I’m *wired*, man.” Zhu Zhixi blinked at him, as if to ask, *You* running low on stamina?

Fu Rangyi was speechless.

“Anyway… the point is, we need two hands,” Zhu Zhixi added quickly. “I know you don’t want to hold hands. Don’t worry, I can stack my left hand over my right. First, I’ll roll up my right sleeve, then like this… See? Passes for two people, yeah? Just *take* the shot already. Hold the phone higher so my arm doesn’t show.”

Fu Rangyi stared at his ridiculous contortion, then glanced at the phone’s framing.

Zhu Zhixi was *working* for it, trying so hard to create an optical illusion that the two hands looked different.

“You good? Maybe I should try another pose.”

Just as he was pondering, Fu Rangyi suddenly asked softly,

“Can I hold your hand?”

“Huh?” Zhu Zhixi looked up at him, stunned.

*Since when* are you so polite?

“Your hand’s tiny. Looks *photoshopped*.”

“Is it?” Zhu Zhixi peered at the screen, then met his gaze. “So what do you want to do?”

The next second, his wrist was gently grasped, and the hand he’d been pretending with was moved aside.

Fu Rangyi then placed his right hand loosely over the remaining one, held just *barely* above it—no actual contact. Once positioned, he quickly took the photo.

“Done.”

“*Uh*, okay.”

Zhu Zhixi snapped out of it, glanced at his hand—the one deemed too small—and rubbed his fingers together.

*Hello?* I can palm two emu eggs, catch baby crocodiles barehanded, set up tents, build fires, free solo—*these* are *tools*!

After a moment, he suddenly remembered something. He turned his palm over. The countdown had stopped again.

Wait—it stops *without* touching? Since *when*?

That’s all it takes?

“Done.” Before he could blink, Fu Rangyi had already posted the photo.

“You didn’t even *run the caption by me*!” Zhu Zhixi leaned in for a peek. “Show me!”

"It's already posted, go check it yourself."

Zhu Zhixi paused for a second, then poked Fu Rangyi’s shoulder twice with his index finger: "But we’re not even WeChat friends yet, *hubby*."

Fu Rangyi’s expression darkened: "Can you stop calling me that?"

"What’s wrong? Don’t like it? I thought all Alphas loved being called *hubby*." Zhu Zhixi, fearless and even enjoying teasing him, continued, "Then come up with one yourself. We’re married now, we should at least have a pet name, or it’ll seem fake. If not, I can call you *hubby* and you can call me husb—"

"Unnecessary." Fu Rangyi frowned. "Just call me by my full name. Hearing inappropriate terms affects my mood."

*Mr. Fu, when are you ever in a good mood?*

*Did someone jealous of your published papers secretly swap your antianxiety meds with M&M's? How petty.*

But outwardly, he complied obediently: "Yeah, yeah, Fu Rangyi, could you please add Zhu Zhixi on WeChat and send over the wedding announcement pic of Fu Rangyi and Zhu Zhixi?"

*How does someone like this even exist?* The thought of having to collaborate with him for six months made Fu Rangyi’s already bleak life seem even gloomier.

Yet Zhu Zhixi was somewhat smug. After receiving the photo, he kept zooming in and out, scrutinizing it closely, then suddenly froze and looked up: "Ah, I found a problem."

Fu Rangyi glanced over: "What?"

"Where are the rings?" He held up the photo. "Just bare hands—whose ringless wedding pics get posted?"

Truthfully, he hadn’t noticed at first. He’d been looking at Fu Rangyi’s hand.

It was a very nice hand—slender, with well-defined knuckles. Soon, though, he spotted a faint, shallow scar on Fu Rangyi’s ring finger. Against his overly pale skin, it stood out.

Only then did Zhu Zhixi realize the bigger issue: both their ring fingers were bare.

"Then let’s go get some," Fu Rangyi said bluntly.

*I’ve leveled up in life. Now I’m basically the queen of the Rush Hour Kingdom.*

Zhu Zhixi waved a hand: "No need to rush, right? It’s fine, rookie mistakes happen. We’ll know better next time."

Fu Rangyi frowned again.

He didn’t respond, instead lowering his head to search for nearby jewelry brands, skimming through the options quickly.

When it came to rings and necklaces, Fu Rangyi knew nothing. He knew way more about which brands of Suppressor Bracelets and neck rings were effective, comprehensive, and had high blocking performance.

After some thought, Fu Rangyi decided to ask the serial dater Li Jiao for help. The guy was a dating pro. But before he could finish typing the message, his phone rang. The caller ID read [Father].

He took a deep, silent breath, removed his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and answered with a composed expression.

"Hello?"

As expected, the other party had seen the post and would contact him—he just hadn’t anticipated it being this soon.

A flood of questions fired at him.

Fu Rangyi leaned back in his chair, hand resting on the table. The table still had a faint ring of condensation from the oden cup’s warmth. He absentmindedly traced circles in the droplets. He stayed silent until the questions stopped, then finally responded.

"It’s not ‘just marrying someone randomly.’ This person fits your ideal criteria—my advisor set us up. You were thrilled back then, remember? Have you forgotten already?"

He didn’t say the name, but his gaze involuntarily shifted toward that person. At some point, Zhu Zhixi had left the table.

Without his glasses, his vision was blurry, everything indistinct like a watercolor painting. The winter sun had vanished too quickly. At the end of the street, the sky was tinted blue-purple, pink dusk settling as the buttery, sugary warmth wafted from the bakery on the corner. Along the road, buildings gradually lit up, and outside the convenience store, the massive Christmas tree’s ribbon lights flickered in time with the Christmas jingle.

Zhu Zhixi was crouching beside the tree, holding a cat treat he'd gotten from who-knows-where, playing with a ginger cat. The scattered lights from the tree fell onto his fluffy white down jacket, like stars twinkling on fresh snow.

Faced with his father’s surprised and slightly doubtful comeback, Fu Rangyi countered with a question of his own: "Why would I marry someone I didn’t like?"

A rhetorical question wasn’t enough—he casually tossed in a lie for good measure.

"I liked him right away. He’s got a great personality, he’s easy on the eyes, and we get along well."

When lying, people often sprinkle in a bit of truth to make it more believable—like a single fresh strawberry atop a slice of cake loaded with additives and fake whipped cream.

Right after he said this, he saw the chubby cat chomp on the already-squeezed-empty treat packet. Zhu Zhixi, seemingly worried it might swallow the plastic, tugged hard to get it back.

Losing a fight with a cat over a treat.

Fu Rangyi found it amusing and actually laughed out loud, momentarily distracted.

So when the call proposed a family dinner, he mumbled an absent yes.

By the time he regretted it, it was too late. His parents had already bypassed him and arranged the meet-the-parents dinner themselves.

"You never said anything about dinner!"

Standing outside the restaurant, Zhu Zhixi was still bewildered, turning to Fu Rangyi. "This out of nowhere? Do you have some secret fast-forward button in your palm?"

Just like the invisible countdown in mine.

Fu Rangyi refused to admit this was his mistake and dug in his heels. "Out of nowhere? Whose parents don’t meet after their kids get married? We’re already doing things backward."

It wasn’t like they were some lovesick kids stealing their family registries to elope.

Zhu Zhixi had no rebuttal.

Backward?

Since when?

He knew his dad was pleased with Fu Rangyi, but his brother was another story. Every lie he’d ever told as a kid had been ruthlessly exposed by that walking polygraph.

He didn’t want to be mocked by Zhu Zeran in front of everyone.

And he couldn’t tell them about the countdown either. If there were no other options, fine—they could at least start planning their funerals early, throw one hell of a goodbye bash.

But now there was hope. If those two found out, one would laugh at him for losing his mind, and the other would secretly cry behind his back.

"I’m… not prepared at all. Can we reschedule with your parents?"

He tried to bolt, but the collar of his coat was abruptly grabbed, yanking him back.

Whoa, ease up, Hulk! Zhu Zhixi adjusted his jacket.

"My parents, my brother, your dad, your brother—they’re all here. You seriously gonna ditch now?"

Faced with such formidable opposition, it seemed he had no choice but to face the firing squad.

Stepping out of the elevator and reaching the dining room door, Zhu Zhixi took a deep breath.

Even through the door, he could hear the lively chatter inside—so chummy, as if this wasn’t some shotgun wedding between two people who’d just met, but a longtime sweethearts’ reunion set up by their families.

Gritting his teeth, he was about to push the door open when Fu Rangyi stopped him.

"Hold on."

" Yeah?"

Turning his head, Fu Rangyi gently grasped Xiao Zhu's elbow, leaned in, his breath brushing Xiao Zhu’s ear, and spoke in a low voice.

"Not 'uncle and auntie,' but 'mom and dad.'"

Author's Note:

If they're meeting the parents, can cohabitation be far behind?

This isn’t your typical honest, ordinary beta protagonist (though pointing this out now might be a bit late—lol, I’m sure everyone can tell Xiao Zhu is anything but well-behaved). In my view, being a beta is about gender, not personality, and since they’re the most common gender, they shouldn’t all fit one mold. There are bound to be wildcards like Xiao Zhu. But the foundational Alpha/Beta/Omega universe rules (ABO dynamics) still apply: for instance, betas aren’t affected by pheromones, don’t have heats, and can’t be marked. So someone’s going to be pretty frustrated later—after all, his partner isn’t just a beta, but a seriously irresistible beta at that.