Chapter Two: The Arrival of the Bride

Liu Jingye ignored her, dashed outside, and stood by the main gate, letting the fine drizzle soak him. He lit a cigarette and muttered to himself, “The destructive power of biological weapons is simply too great.”

Just then, the crisp sound of high heels echoed from behind. Reluctantly, he turned around—and was instantly dumbfounded.

Standing before him was a beautiful woman, a bride dressed in a pure white wedding gown. The dress was elegant and noble, its long skirt sweeping the ground, as if it were carved from ice and snow, shimmering with every movement.

Her forehead was smooth and graceful, eyebrows straight as if painted, almond-shaped eyes bright as stars, a dainty nose, delicate lips, and a perfectly oval face that radiated a gentle, poetic beauty, reminiscent of misty rivers and moons in the south, warm and luminous as jade.

But those bright almond eyes, shining like stars in the night, seemed to flicker now with a raging fire of indignation.

He’d just seen those eyes through the steamy haze moments ago. Without thinking, Liu Jingye blurted, “I almost didn’t recognize you with clothes on.”

“You… shameless scoundrel!” The woman planted her hands on her hips, fuming, on the verge of unleashing a tirade.

Liu Jingye hurried to defend himself, “Calm down, miss. Before you start cursing me, take a look around. This is my home. That was my private bathroom you just used, the most private room I have. It’s as if I were a rat poison seller and you stole a taste—you can’t go around accusing me of murder for that, can you?”

The bride considered this, then insisted, “But I can’t just let you see me for nothing! And you saw everything, without reservation!”

Liu Jingye gave a helpless, innocent smile. “So, what do you propose?”

She scratched her head, droplets still dripping from her damp hair. Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and she raised two slender fingers in front of him, declaring solemnly, “You have two choices. First, let me see you without reservation too.”

“What?” Liu Jingye was aghast, instinctively crossing his arms over his chest in a desperate bid to defend his modesty. The woman rolled her eyes and snorted with disdain—it was clear she wasn’t truly interested.

“Second…” she said, her tone grave and earnest, “marry me.”

Liu Jingye tumbled off his chair in shock, staring at her wide-eyed, convinced she must have suffered some trauma—why else would she suddenly barge into a stranger’s house to bathe and then demand marriage?

Getting up, he pleaded sincerely, “Miss, please, don’t give up on treatment!”

“Get lost, you’re the one who’s sick!” The woman’s eyebrows shot up as she barked, “Those are your only two options. Take your pick. I won’t just let you get off scot-free.”

When Liu Jingye remained silent, the young woman sneered, “If you don’t choose, I’ll stay right here. I’ll eat your food, live in your house… Aren’t you running a hostel? I’ll camp by the front door every day, and if any customer comes, I’ll tell them you’re a lecherous innkeeper who spies on female guests in the shower, that you’ve installed hidden cameras in the rooms to secretly film them…”

Cold sweat rolled down Liu Jingye’s forehead. “This is going too far. Who is this woman, anyway? She barges in and wants to marry me—does she think I’m some kind of universal husband?”

He forced a bitter smile, and seeing her determined expression, gritted his teeth. “Well, maybe I’ll just swallow my pride and go with the first option?”

The bride scoffed and shook her head. “Dream on! I’ve changed my mind—I don’t want to see you now. I just want to marry you.”

Utterly exasperated, Liu Jingye pleaded, “Come on, lady, give me a break. Look at me, look at this place. It’s obvious—I’m poor and unattractive, scrawny and dried-up, living in a ramshackle house with no savings, a lifelong bachelor struggling for every meal, introverted and completely devoid of charm…”

At this, the woman couldn’t help but laugh, her beautiful eyes sparkling, her fair skin flushed with a rosy glow. Her smile was truly as radiant as a blossoming flower.

She stood gracefully, smoothed her skirt, and said, “I’ll give you a few days to think about it. In the meantime, I’ll be staying here—find me a clean, sunny, comfortable room…”

With that, she walked over to the wall, took down a ring of keys hanging there, and, with practiced ease, selected one. She looked every bit the proprietress of the place.

At the door, she turned her head and remarked, “For a dump like this, you actually charge eighty bucks a night? You’ve got some nerve.”

“That’s called expensive?” Liu Jingye exploded in anger. Every time a guest complained about his rates, it infuriated him, and he reflexively retorted, “I’m already the cheapest around. Go check anywhere else—no one’s cheaper than me.”

The woman suddenly pursed her lips in a sly smile. “I can tell…”

You can tell? Liu Jingye paused, watching her leave, and only then realized what he’d said. Damn, he really was cheap!

After making a few preparations in the courtyard to prevent flooding, Liu Jingye returned to his room—only to find the woman there again, still in her wedding dress, radiant and elegant. They say a bride is at her most beautiful in her gown, and it was certainly true now.

She held a phone in her hand and waved it at him. “The battery’s dead. Lend me your charger.”

Liu Jingye had been looking for an opportunity to talk with her and figure out her intentions, hoping to send this troublesome guest away. Seeing her come to him, he eagerly rummaged for a charger. Their phones were the same model, so the charger fit both.

But after she plugged it in, the phone wouldn’t charge. She tried several times, frustrated. “What’s going on? Don’t tell me you’re trying to trick me with a broken charger?”

Liu Jingye came over to take a look. “It’s just a loose connection. The charger is fine, but your phone’s port must be faulty—probably from plugging and unplugging too often. The more you do it, the looser it gets.”

The woman snatched her phone, pouting. “Nonsense! My phone is brand new. I think it’s your plug that’s gotten too small from overuse!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, both of them froze. The conversation had been entirely about phones and chargers, but somehow it sounded… indecent.

Flushed with embarrassment, the woman tossed her phone aside and looked around the room.

She walked right over and opened his computer. Liu Jingye was too late to stop her—a web page popped up, displaying the kind of images and stories single men often use to dispel loneliness.

The woman wrinkled her nose in disgust. “How revolting. Can’t a grown man like you look at something more uplifting?”

Liu Jingye scratched his head awkwardly, wanting to tell her that what he looked at did make him “uplifted”—but wisely kept silent, not wanting to cement his reputation as a pervert.

She closed the page, and he pointed to a piece of software. “That’s for registering guests with the local police—it’s the law. If you’re staying here, you need to register.”

She shrugged indifferently, opened the program, and entered her ID number. Instantly, her full details appeared.

Only then did Liu Jingye learn her name: Yuan Xiaoying. Just the sound of it suggested a cheerful soul, always smiling. She was twenty-four this year, not a local, but from the provincial capital.

Her photo was striking—young, vibrant, with a hint of innocence and shy youthfulness that radiated with energy.