The Civil Affairs Bureau Won't Let Me Divorce the Taotie - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My name is Jiang Qiao’an.

My profession is outsourced mediator for the Civil Affairs Bureau All-Species Marriage Coordination Department.

To put it politely, I’m a Cross-Species Emotional Consultant.

To put it bluntly, I clean up the emotional messes left behind by humans and demons.

A Snake Demon complains that her boyfriend hasn’t replied to her messages for three months because he’s hibernating.

A Mermaid accuses her fiancé of using too much water when he showers.

A pair of Tree Spirits are even more ridiculous.

After the wedding, the husband insisted on planting himself right in the middle of the living room.

The wife cried as she said, “He’s acting more and more like a potted plant. We don’t have a marital life anymore, just greenery maintenance.”

And I, a temporary worker who is still three closed cases short of my monthly quota at the end of the month, rely on cases like these to survive.

At ten o’clock that morning, I had just walked through the door with a cup of soy milk when the Section Chief cornered me in the hallway.

The dark circles under her eyes were practically sagging down to the corners of her mouth, yet her tone was as gentle as if she were about to hand me a year-end bonus.

“Qiao’an, the organization believes in you.”

“We have a big case today. If you take it, your performance rating for the month will be maxed out immediately.”

I asked warily, “How big?”

She said, “A Taotie divorce case.”

I nearly spat my soy milk in her face.

In our system, the word “Taotie” is ranked as a red-level warning, right alongside mass brawls, ancestral grave disputes, and phoenix custody battles.

It’s not because they all love to eat people.

Since the new regulations were implemented, the registered Ferocious Beasts in the city are generally more law-abiding than humans.

The problem is that with a Taotie, the mouth is more dangerous than the stomach.

When they’re hungry, they talk nonsense.

When they’re full, they also talk nonsense.

When their emotions flare up, they even swallow the negative emotions of everyone around them.

One second, two people might be screaming at each other.

The next second, they’re both in tears, saying, “Actually, he’s a pretty good guy.”

That’s why the Civil Affairs Bureau is most afraid of dealing with them.

Mediation recordings never yield any valid evidence.

I said I wouldn’t take it.

The Section Chief said it was too late; the person had already arrived.

She shoved the file into my hands.

The large words stamped in red on the front page made my temples throb:

High-Risk Cross-Species Marriage Compatibility Observation Agreement

Male’s Name: Gao Yucheng.

Species: Taotie.

In the remarks column, it was noted that he had proactively applied to terminate the marriage compatibility trial seven consecutive times.

His reasons included:

“I grind my teeth in the middle of the night.”

“I’ll eat her worries, and I’ll eat everything in her fridge while I’m at it.”

“I am not a good spouse.”

“When I smell her sadness, I want to get closer.”

Behind that last line, the system had automatically flagged a yellow warning:

Ambiguous phrasing; manual verification suggested.

I stared at that phrase “want to get closer,” and for some reason, my ears felt a bit hot.

The next second, the Section Chief pushed me into Consultation Window No. 3.