The Civil Affairs Bureau Won't Let Me Divorce the Taotie - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A man sat across from the service window.

Black shirt.

Silver-rimmed glasses.

His collar was buttoned up meticulously.

He looked like a refined scoundrel who had just arrived to negotiate a corporate merger.

The only thing about him that didn’t seem human was the way he stared-his gaze was too focused.

Like low-hanging clouds on a gloomy day.

Once he set his sights on something, he didn’t look away.

The moment I walked through the door, he glanced at me first.

His gaze lingered on the soy milk in my hand for two seconds.

Then, he nodded politely.

“Hello. I am Gao Yucheng.”

“I suggest you stay away from me right now.”

He said it with such earnestness that I actually wanted to laugh.

“Is this how all you Taotie greet people? By being so terrifying?”

“I’m not trying to scare you. I’m giving you notice.”

He pushed a printed divorce application toward me.

The handwriting was lean and vigorous, the strokes sharp and decisive.

“I’ve already filled it out. You sign it, and we’ll go to Counter 4 together.”

“It’s more efficient this way.”

I looked down at the paper and asked him, “Mr. Gao, we aren’t even married yet.”

He replied, “We will be in a moment.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Sure enough, the registrar behind the window popped her head out, smiling like a wedding officiant.

“Congratulations to you both! Under the latest pilot policy, the system has automatically matched you as a high-stability cross-species sample couple.”

“As the sole signatory of the Observation Agreement, Ms. Jiang Qiao’an is deemed to have voluntarily entered a trial marriage.”

“Come, give me your IDs. Issuing the certificates is very fast.”

I nearly died on the spot.

“Wait a minute,” I said.

“I signed an Observation Agreement.”

The registrar flipped to the last page and pointed to the seventh line of fine print:

*Observers possess the status of a temporary spouse during the trial period.*

My vision went dark.

Gao Yucheng moved even faster than I did.

He pushed his chair back, showing clear emotion for the first time.

“I refuse.”

The registrar didn’t even look up.

“Refusal is invalid.”

“Mr. Gao, your last seven applications were all judged as subjective avoidance of intimate relationships.”

“According to the new regulations, a compatible observer must be introduced to complete a seven-day trial period together.”

“The person is finally here.”

“She’s a temporary worker,” Gao Yucheng said, his face cold.

“That’s perfect. The employee ID is real, and the system recognizes it.”

Ten minutes later.

Gao Yucheng and I stood side-by-side at Counter 4.

Each of us held a bright red Marriage Certificate.

At the same time, we slammed the divorce application onto the counter.

The staff member looked up at us.

They looked practiced, as if they dealt with ten pairs of lunatics like us every day.

“The Cross-Species Marriage Trial Period lasts seven days. Impulsive divorces are prohibited.”

“You two come back on the eighth day.”

I said, “We haven’t even started yet.”

He flipped through the regulations, his tone terrifyingly calm.

“From the second the seal was pressed, it counts as having started.”

Gao Yucheng remained silent for three seconds before turning his head to look at me.

“I’m sorry. I’ve dragged you into this.”

My anger had been boiling up to the top of my head.

But the moment he apologized, half of that fire died out.

I’m the type who responds to kindness but bristles at force.

My biggest weakness is people who apologize with total sincerity.

I had no choice but to ask, “So, what do we do now?”

He said, “The trial period usually requires living together.”

“My house is large, and I have many refrigerators.”

“You’ll stay in the guest room. The door can be locked from the inside.”

“Do not enter the kitchen after ten at night.”

“In particular, do not use eating metaphors in front of me, like ‘I’m jealous,’ ‘I’m full of anger,’ or ‘I want to swallow you whole.'”

“Why?”

“Because I will take it literally.”

The tips of my ears turned hot instantly.

As if realizing his words could be misinterpreted, he added another sentence.

“I mean literally in the most basic sense.”

“Don’t misunderstand.”

Great.

Now it’s even more awkward.