At the Civil Affairs Bureau in Dongjiang.

Rachel Caldwell stood outside in a black dress and dark sunglasses, watching people come and go. The longer she stood there, the heavier her mood sank.

“Why is finding someone to marry such a damn challenge?”

Everything about her, from her outfit to the blank look on her face, screamed zero wedding vibes. If anything, she looked like she was attending her own breakup ceremony.

“Rachel, I got the number. Let’s go take the photo.” Wendy Whitmore, dressed up as a guy, walked over. Rachel stared, completely thrown off.

“Wendy, can you not joke around right now? I seriously need an actual man to marry. What are you doing here joining the circus?” Rachel’s tone carried real irritation; she was miserable enough already and did not want to get kicked out by the staff later.

“I’m here to marry you!” Wendy grabbed her wrist and dragged her inside, not caring about any weird looks from others.

Rachel kept a straight face. “Cut it out. Just help me find a man. Second marriage, third marriage, whatever. Even someone with a disability works.”

Wendy pulled out an ID card and handed it to her. “Here. A man.”

“Yale Whitmore.” Rachel blinked. “Your brother? Other than being older, he’s normal.”

“How is your brother’s ID in your hands?” Rachel checked the ID over and over just to be sure it was real.

“Classified,” Wendy said with a smug little shrug.

When the official stamp finally came down, Rachel’s nerves loosened all at once. She kept flipping the marriage certificate in her hands.

“So this actually worked.”

She had never imagined getting a marriage certificate could be this ridiculously easy.

Once they got into the car, Wendy immediately started wiping off her makeup.

“I chopped off my three-year-long hair for a buzzcut just to help you get that certificate. I even put on full male makeup, and you still doubted me.”

“The whole time in there, I was terrified they’d check your identity,” Rachel admitted. Aside from taking the photo, she hadn’t even dared look the staff in the eye.

Wendy Whitmore chuckled. "I know the people handling the paperwork. Gave them a heads-up in advance."

"No wonder," Rachel Caldwell muttered.

She unlocked her phone. The more she replayed the video from last night, the more disgust twisted in her stomach.

"Did you dig up anything on that so-called mystery client from yesterday?"

"Nothing." Wendy had double-checked. The woman who’d hired them to catch her “cheating husband” didn’t exist. The whole setup had been to shove the truth in Rachel’s face. "So what’s your plan for those two scumbags?"

As a private investigator, Rachel never lacked first‑hand intel, but she’d never imagined her own fiancé would cheat right under her nose.

"My eyes already feel dirty. My hands don’t need to match."

"I’m not scared of getting dirty. Just say the word and I’ll tear them apart myself." Wendy was fuming. There was no universe where she’d let that trash couple off easy.

Rachel simply shook her head and lifted the marriage certificate in her hand.

"As long as I don’t marry him, that’s the biggest slap in their faces."

Jeffrey Jameson was vile enough to hook up with his own cousin, then dream of marrying Rachel just to drive her insane afterward so they could grab control of her inheritance.

"Completely unhinged. How dare they think I’m part of their perfect plan."

She was ten when her parents died unexpectedly, leaving behind shares of the Meng Corporation.

Both the Caldwell family and the Jameson family wanted those shares. The trust stated she could only break free of the trustees once she turned twenty and got a marriage certificate.

If she didn’t marry, the trust would follow the will: her uncle’s family got 0.1%, she got 0.1%, and everything else went straight to charity.

To get the household registration book, she’d swallowed her anger through an entire night. Seeing her aunt that morning, she’d nearly ripped that fake, pretentious smile right off her face.

"Let’s go transfer my registration."

"Let’s roll."

Wendy didn’t care about anything else. Rachel was her dream sister‑in‑law.

And with her big brother having vanished since being discharged half a year ago, the ID card their mom had confiscated back then hadn't expired yet, and the household registration book was still at home.

Rachel suddenly remembered that both of Wendy Whitmore’s brothers had served in the military.

“Wait… isn’t your brother a soldier? Don’t military marriages need some sort of political review?”

The last thing she wanted was to grab her inheritance only to end up hauled into a military court.

“Wendy, seriously, this isn’t some prank. You messing with me is fine, but your big brother? He literally belonged to the country.”

“Relax. My brother retired ages ago. You two getting the certificate is totally legit. No loopholes, no trouble.”

Wendy knew exactly why her brother had left the army—Grandpa and Grandma kept pushing for marriage, and he simply had zero time to date while serving.

“It’ll probably take about two months. Once my stuff is settled, we can go and get the divorce,” Rachel said with a sigh of relief. As long as nothing broke the law, she could deal with everything else.

Wendy thought for a second. If her brother didn’t come home during that time… a divorce still wouldn’t be a problem.

Once the registration was done, the two headed to a café.

Jeffrey Jameson had blown up Rachel’s phone with calls. She glanced at the screen a couple of times but didn’t answer—didn’t block him either.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” Wendy said, instantly catching on. “You said you weren’t going to deal with that jerk, but the moment you get a breather, you start counterattacking.”

Rachel calmly sipped her coffee, pulled out the marriage certificate, and snapped a picture.

Moments later:

Moments feed. Weibo.

#I’mMarried

Attached: a photo of the marriage certificate.

When Jeffrey saw the post and tried to comment, he realized he’d been muted.

He tried tagging Rachel in a new post—only to discover she’d blocked him completely.

Someone commented:

#JustGotMarriedAndAlreadyBlocked…What’sGoingOn#

“Find me a safe place. I need a couple of days to crash,” Rachel said. She hadn’t slept the entire night, and everything that had happened left her brain a jumbled mess.

Without hesitation, Wendy drove her straight to her big brother’s apartment—only ten minutes from the Whitmore home.

"I remember Mrs. Whitmore mentioning her birthday was today." Rachel Caldwell had been to the Whitmore house so often that she still clearly recalled that detail.

Wendy Whitmore smacked her own forehead and shot Rachel a look. "Come with me then. It’s like a ten‑minute walk from here."

"I'm a mess right now. I really shouldn't go." Rachel’s voice wavered. She felt way too guilty to face Mrs. Whitmore—after all, she’d secretly married her son.

Ten minutes later.

Wendy stepped into the living room, took one look at the scene, and instantly froze.

"Brother Yale…"

Yale Whitmore’s brows drew together the moment he saw his sister dressed in full-on men’s clothes, her short cropped hair making her look even sharper.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"I…" Wendy stammered, clearly not wanting to explain anything. She grabbed her shopping bag and tried to slip back to her room.

Just then, Mrs. Whitmore came out, still rummaging through things. "Wendy, did you see a brown paper bag in my drawer? The one with the household registration book in it?"

Wendy had barely taken two steps toward her bedroom when Yale’s hand clamped down on her shoulder. Without effort, he reached over and grabbed the paper bag himself.

"This one?"

"Yes, that’s it. What do you need it for?" Mrs. Whitmore opened the bag casually. The household registration book inside had a marriage certificate tucked into it.

"Wendy Whitmore, who did you marry?"

She hadn’t even opened the marriage certificate yet, but her first assumption was that her just‑turned‑twenty daughter had snuck off to get married behind everyone’s back.

"Mom, it’s not me! That certificate isn’t mine!" Wendy panicked, glancing nervously at her big brother. How on earth was she supposed to explain this?

Mrs. Whitmore finally flipped open the marriage certificate. The second she recognized her daughter in the photo, she swayed a little—then the moment she saw the groom’s name was her eldest son, her eyes practically sparkled. Her tone did a full 180.

"I have a daughter‑in‑law!"

Yale snatched the certificate to look for himself. The instant he saw it, his head buzzed so hard he nearly blacked out on the spot.

"What the hell is going on?"

His usually cold eyes were blazing now, like someone had just poked a sleeping beast awake. At one‑ninety tall, the way he strode over felt like a whole mountain shifting in her direction.

"Bro, just—just calm down, okay? Breathe!" Wendy Whitmore’s legs were shaking so hard it looked like they might give out any second.

"Oh, impressive. You actually dared to get married for me." Yale Whitmore’s features were sharply defined, his straight nose and stern bone structure giving him a natural chilliness. When anger tightened his face, that cold edge turned downright terrifying.

"Mom, help me!" Wendy squeaked.