“Didn’t you want a ring?”
That was the thought Ying Zhu had just extracted from Cen Xie’s mind.
Cen Xie was speechless for a long time. Finally, he asked, “I wanted it, so you just… bought it?”
Ying Zhu gave a soft grunt of affirmation. It was as if he were saying: It’s that simple. You want it, I give it to you.
The atmosphere in the car became thick and heavy. Cen Xie looked down at the diamond ring resting in the velvet box.
Ying Zhu spoke again: “Earlier at the restaurant, you were hiding something from me. I could have used my ability to see what it was right then.” He gestured with his chin toward the ring box, proving his capability. “But I didn’t. I wanted you to tell me yourself.”
By revealing his second ability and the fact that he had two, Ying Zhu was offering a secret of his own to gain Cen Xie’s trust.
So, Cen Xie confessed.
Ying Zhu frowned. “Why hide that? It’s nothing.”
Indeed, it wasn’t much. Cen Xie felt a bit silly now and could only mutter, “Discussing those things while eating gives me indigestion.”
Ying Zhu watched him for a while, then nodded, seemingly persuaded. He then added, “From now on, no matter what happens, as long as it’s related to our memories, we have to sync our information. Can you do that?”
Cen Xie looked into his eyes and said, “I can.”
Ying Zhu glanced at his phone. “It’s getting late. I’ll take you back now.” He started the engine.
Cen Xie toyed with the small box in his hand. “I should buy a ring for you too.”
“No need,” Ying Zhu replied. “Even if you bought one, I couldn’t wear it.”
Cen Xie thought about it; that was true. So he said, “Then is there anything else you want? I’ll get it for you, otherwise, I’ll feel like I owe you.”
Ying Zhu kept his eyes on the road via the rearview mirror and said casually, “It’s fine. I used your card to buy the ring anyway.”
Cen Xie: “…”
Wait, what??
But Cen Xie cooled down quickly. He was the one who gave the card to Ying Zhu; once given, it belonged to Ying Zhu. So, technically, the ring was still bought with Ying Zhu’s “money.” When one wants to comfort oneself, even the most absurd logic can be made to fit. Cen Xie used the light filtering through the car window to steal another look at the ring.
The diamond was so brilliant.
When Ying Zhu pulled up to Cen Xie’s door, he fell silent for a moment before saying, “Tomorrow…”
Cen Xie cut him off: “I’ll pick you up.”
It didn’t matter who picked up whom, and since Ying Zhu’s place was significantly closer to the Civil Affairs Bureau, he simply nodded. It was settled.
…..
The next morning, Ying Zhu had just woken up when he received a call from Cen Xie saying he was already downstairs. It was a bit too early; Ying Zhu hadn’t even washed up yet, so he told Cen Xie to come up and wait.
Cen Xie was stopped by the security guard on the first floor. After checking Ying Zhu’s apartment number, the guard called Ying Zhu to verify the guest. Only after receiving confirmation did the guard swipe the card to grant elevator access and escorted Cen Xie to Ying Zhu’s door.
When the doorbell rang, Ying Zhu was in the middle of brushing his teeth. Lacking any sense of maintaining an “image,” he went to open the door with the toothbrush still in his mouth.
Only after the guard left did Ying Zhu truly look at Cen Xie. That day, he was wearing a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone, layered under a black suit jacket. Cen Xie usually preferred jackets and workwear with sharp, cold lines—seemingly avoiding anything that made him look “soft”—and rarely dressed formally. Seeing him like this made Ying Zhu freeze for a second.
He looked good. Cen Xie wore the black-and-white ensemble with a dashing air; he looked “proper” without being stiff, and “powerful” without being tense. The simple color palette highlighted his striking, vivid features even more.
Cen Xie was also momentarily stunned. Ying Zhu had just rolled out of bed, his hair slightly messy instead of its usual neat appearance. It made him look less like an unapproachable iceberg and more approachable.
Ying Zhu stepped aside to let him in, muttering through the toothbrush, “Why so early?”
“Is it early?” Cen Xie walked in, closing the door behind him.
Returning to Ying Zhu’s place made him feel a bit complicated. He couldn’t help but remember his behavior during those “widowed” days; he had completely lost his cool in front of Ying Zhu.
After Ying Zhu finished washing up and changing, they headed out. While taking the elevator down, Ying Zhu thought for a moment and got a registration form from the guard to add Cen Xie as a “household member.” This way, Cen Xie would get his own elevator card and wouldn’t have to face the guard’s interrogation next time.
After a quick breakfast downstairs, Cen Xie drove them straight to the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Since it was the first marriage for both of them, they lacked experience. Unsure of the steps, Ying Zhu went to the service desk to pick up a procedure guide. According to the guide, the first step was to get the corresponding form, fill in personal information, and then take all documents to the waiting area for their number to be called.
The corresponding form…
Ying Zhu looked around and saw a chart posted on the wall. Star County’s marriage laws allowed union between any genders, including same-sex, so the list of combinations was quite long:
The two of them scanned the long list from top to bottom, their gaze moving from an upward tilt to a downward one… Finally, they found their match at the second-to-last spot. Ying Zhu walked to the cabinet, grabbed two “Form No. 20” registration sheets, and sat down to fill them out.
Cen Xie sat with his legs crossed, chewing on the end of his pen as he stared at the glaring “20” on the top left of the form. He couldn’t help but complain, “Why do we have to be No. 20? Second to last? I’m not a fan of this ranking.”
Ying Zhu was busy reading the form and answered distractedly, “This sorting system is a carry-over from before the war. Back then, social status was Alpha > Beta > Omega, and Male > Female. Since the primary gender (ABO) was considered more significant than the secondary gender (Male/Female), you get a chart sorted like this.”
Cen Xie asked, “Then why are Male Alpha and Male Omega first?”
Ying Zhu: “Because that pairing has the highest fertility rate. The government has always encouraged maximizing reproduction.”
Cen Xie scribbled his info. “If you become Mayor, you should change this order.”
Ying Zhu didn’t entertain the comment, pulling a pen from his pocket to fill his own. He finished quickly and urged Cen Xie: “Hurry up and give it to me.” He squinted at Cen Xie’s paper and gasped, “Why is your handwriting so ugly?”
Embarrassed, Cen Xie turned his back to keep writing, hiding his “elementary student” handwriting.
After a moment, Cen Xie finally finished. They took their forms to the waiting area. There were quite a few people that day, but the two of them still stood out. Double-Omega marriages were rare enough, but their looks—even among the high-standard Omegas—were peerless. Furthermore, they carried a level of calm and composure that contradicted typical Omega stereotypes, marking them as high-rank individuals.
As soon as they entered the room, they drew many eyes. Prepared, Ying Zhu pulled a mask from his pocket and put it on to avoid having photos uploaded to social media.
Once seated, Cen Xie caught a faint scent of osmanthus. He leaned toward Ying Zhu, sniffing slightly, and whispered, “Your pheromones are leaking.”
Startled, Ying Zhu instinctively reached back to cover the gland at his neck, pulling back the stray scent. Usually, Omegas wore scent blockers when going out, but Cen Xie and Ying Zhu rarely used them—if you couldn’t control your own pheromones, you didn’t deserve to be called S-rank.
Cen Xie found it odd. Such a lapse shouldn’t happen to Ying Zhu. “Are you feeling unwell?” he asked worriedly.
“No,” Ying Zhu replied.
Cen Xie thought for a moment and whispered, “Is your heat cycle coming up?”
Pheromones become unstable around heat cycles; it’s a biological signal for Omegas to prepare. Normally, heat cycles are very private, and such a question from an Alpha would be an insult. However, between Omegas, it was a casual topic—much like women discussing their periods. It was a conversation for “their own kind” or those in intimate relationships.
Yet, Ying Zhu felt the question was a bit too intimate—because of the memories on that card, and because of their far-from-innocent past. He didn’t answer.
Cen Xie watched him, his thoughts unreadable.
Seeing that it would be a while before their number was called, Ying Zhu got up and said he was going to the restroom. In truth, he just wanted a quiet place to settle down. With so many people around, pheromones were easily affected.
When he returned, Cen Xie handed him a small packet. “What’s this?”
“A scent blocker patch,” Cen Xie said. “There are too many Alphas here. It’s safer to wear one.”
Ying Zhu tore the packaging. “Where did you get this?”
Cen Xie nodded toward a female Omega nearby. “Borrowed it from someone.”
Ying Zhu reached back toward his neck, but since he rarely used these, he struggled to place it correctly. Seeing this, Cen Xie took the patch to help him.
As Cen Xie’s hand approached, Ying Zhu went rigid, tilting his head down slightly. He realized this was the first time he had ever exposed his gland to someone so defenselessly. He hadn’t realized how much he had come to trust Cen Xie.
Cen Xie’s movements were gentle, barely touching the gland itself. Once it was on, he noticed Ying Zhu’s ears were slightly red. He couldn’t resist reaching out to pinch Ying Zhu’s earlobe.
Ying Zhu whipped his head around to look at him. Cen Xie quickly looked away, pretending nothing had happened.
Finally, it was their turn. They walked into the registration booth and sat at the counter, handing over their IDs and paperwork. The clerk, a female Beta, looked at their listed genders and couldn’t help but steal an extra glance—Double-Omega marriages were indeed a rarity.
“Sir, please remove your mask,” the clerk said to Ying Zhu.
Ying Zhu complied. After comparing his face to his ID photo, she nodded. “Everything is in order.”
The identification was verified, and the clerk brought out several more documents for the two to sign and fingerprint. Simultaneously, she activated the camera and said, “Look at the lens.”
Ying Zhu completed his facial scan. When it was Cen Xie’s turn, he was busy dipping his finger in the red ink pad. Hearing the clerk’s instruction, he looked up.
The clerk glanced at his index finger and reminded him: “The thumb.”
Cen Xie misunderstood. He thought she wanted him to give a “thumbs up” for the photo. Though internally bewildered, he complied, sticking his thumb up toward the camera with a brilliant, radiating smile.
Clerk: “…”
Ying Zhu: “…”
He was starting to regret marrying this idiot.
The clerk cleared her throat and explained, “I meant you need to use your thumb for the fingerprint.”
Cen Xie froze, let out an “oh,” awkwardly retracted his thumb, and snuck a sideways glance at Ying Zhu.
Once all the signatures were signed and the prints pressed, the process was nearly complete. In Star County, marriage certificates were issued in duplicate; both are identical, with the information arranged vertically. The layout doesn’t change based on who is holding the certificate.
The clerk pulled out two blank certificates, ready to print. “Which of you is the top?”
Both Ying Zhu and Cen Xie looked up at her simultaneously.
The clerk realized her phrasing and clarified: “The names. Whose goes on top, whose goes on bottom?”