After Becoming A Popular Girl, I Choose My Husband On Planet X - Chapter 3 - "Who’s the head husband now? Let the ranking battle begin... and all I want is a comforting bowl of spiral noodles."

Wen Nuannuan sat innocently on a stone bench in the vanilla garden. Fragrant blossoms surrounded her, butterflies fluttered—yet before her lay what felt like a battlefield.

To her left stood Gao Muting, his military uniform sharp, his aura as cold and formidable as a glacier.

To her right was Ye Yibai, in a slightly open white shirt, his smile warm and gentle like a tranquil spring stream.

And this tension was sparked by nothing more than her offhand joke a moment ago—

“Hey, so which one of you will be the first husband and who’s the second husband?” She had heard from the servant that an S-level woman on this planet could have up to five husbands, but they were ranked in order.

The air fell silent for two seconds.

Then the scene erupted.

Gao Muting’s brows shot up, his tone as cold as an Arctic storm: “Obviously me. I’m A+ rank, deputy general of the military department, older than you, more experienced in service. In terms of rank and merits, placing me first is only fair, yes?”

Ye Yibai still kept that harmless smile, but his gaze clearly showed defiance: “This isn’t a contest for retired officials. Zixin is choosing husbands, not senior classmates. I am the one she chose first. First choice, first in line.”

Gao Muting’s expression went colder: “She only chose you because she doesn’t understand the class system.”

Ye Yibai’s smile faded slightly, his tone gentle but barbed: “No—she chose me because she has taste. Understand? Taste.”

Gao Muting: “…” (He thought to himself: Eat sh1t!)

They stood locked for several seconds, neither giving ground. The vanilla flowers around them seemed to turn into mountains of blades and forests of swords; even the wind dared not pass.

Wen Nuannuan shrank slightly, leaning back on the bench, blinking and asking quietly: “So… are you planning to start fighting now?”

“No.” Gao Muting ground out through clenched teeth.

“No.” Ye Yibai nodded with a smile.

And in the next second—

The two men stepped forward simultaneously. Their foreheads nearly touched, their noses almost grazing—male tension crackled in the air like both had been simmering with irritation for a long time.

Ye Yibai still smiled gently, but his voice felt like a spring breeze hiding a blade: “However, I don’t mind having a competition with you.”

Gao Muting’s lips curled up in a provocative twist: “Okay. Whoever loses is the second husband—do you dare?”

Wen Nuannuan was chewing her alien planet gummy candy and nearly choked. Coughing, she pressed a hand to her chest: “Cough cough… are you so worried about the ranking?”

The two men responded in unison:

“Of course I care.”

“I care greatly.”

Ye Yibai added: “I could accept she marries others, but I can’t accept you being ahead of me.”

Gao Muting: “I won’t let you step on my head either.”

Wen Nuannuan: “…” This scene was turning into something like an ancient palace etiquette class about masculine virtues.

“So how about… we decide by rock-paper-scissors?”

“No.” Both men refused in one breath.

“A duel then?”

“No, that too.”

“Or see who does more chores?”

Gao Muting paused, then replied confidently: “I’m a deputy general—I don’t cook.”

Ye Yibai countered immediately: “Perfect. I can cook for her my whole life.”

Gao Muting: “…”

Ye Yibai: “Being good at household tasks scores extra points.”

Wen Nuannuan giggled until her shoulders shook. Candy nearly dropped. If these two went on a dating reality show, ratings would explode.

She clapped her hands and made an epically bold decision: “Okay—here’s the plan. The role of First Husband will rotate monthly. I’ll rank you both based on your monthly performance—such as how considerate you are at bedtime, how often you cook, your creative ways of spoiling your wife, and… who makes me angriest the least!”

The two men fell silent for half a second, as if quickly calculating their odds.

Ye Yibai was the first to speak with a smile: “I’m fine with that.”

Gao Muting frowned briefly before nodding: “…That’s acceptable.”

Wen Nuannuan gave a mischievous, cat-like smile, stood up holding her parasol, tiny fangs flashing. Her eyes sparkled with playful mischief: “Then who’s going to accompany me to dinner tonight?”

Both men raised hands almost at the same time: “Me.”

Wen Nuannuan: “…Okay then. Let’s decide with rock-paper-scissors!”

Three seconds later, the two handsome men stood side by side, aura fully turned on, starting to do hand gestures.

—Rock!

—Scissors!

Wen Nuannuan: “…Can’t you two choose different moves for once?”

Gao Muting coolly replied: “Tactical deception, you know?”

Ye Yibai laughed: “Warm-up for teamwork.”

Wen Nuannuan: “Am I marrying two husbands or enrolling two big kindergartners?”

She held her candy in her hands, smiling at this “adult version of a romance ranking game.”

—From this day on, Wen Nuannuan realized something deeply:

Sometimes being the wife is exhausting. Especially when you have to carry two romantic rivals to level up together.

At the registry office today, the atmosphere was extraordinary. “Miss Wen Nuannuan S+ noble family marriage registration case” became the most-viewed live topic across the Star Network. Tens of thousands guessed which five men she’d pick.

—In the end, she only chose two.

Even more shocking: when the registrar looked at the forms, they froze.

“Are… you sure you want to register like this?”

Wen Nuannuan nodded, smiling sweetly like an innocent angel: “Yes! They’re both good. Just list them equally—no need to argue!”

The registrar shook hands, trembling, and typed: [First Husband: Ye Yibai, Gao Muting (tie)]

But the system responded: Warning: Only one First Husband can be entered.

The registrar hesitated, bit their lip, and punched in a special permit code.

The system immediately popped: S+ privilege activated, allowing a tie registration.

And thus—

The first-ever “dual First Husband” couple entered into official records.

The entire network exploded.

Military officials: ???

Academic scholars: ????

Other competitors: “I didn’t even make the backup list?”

In the evening, to celebrate their official registration, Ye Yibai booked the top aerial French restaurant on the planet: Luf Tower – Crystal Wing. The entire restaurant floated midair on transparent glass flooring. AI skies displayed surrounding stardust as diners watched distant planets and cyclones shimmer. The scene was dreamlike.

A piano played softly, silver cutlery sparkled like stars, tuxedoed servers glided, announcing courses with hushed elegance.

Gao Muting, expressionless, asked: “What would you like to eat? French cuisine is well-reviewed here. I remember their foie gras with blueberry sparkling soy sauce is famous.”

Wen Nuannuan stared at the hefty menu, yet her expression turned subtly hesitant.

She pursed her lips and quietly asked: “Um… do you have… luosifen?”

The room froze as if someone pressed the pause button. Even the piano music stopped abruptly.

Ye Yibai’s mouth twitched. In his mind he searched his database: “Luo… si fen?”

Gao Muting frowned: “Are you referring to some sort of mechanical powder? Or an ancient weapon?”

Wen Nuannuan hurriedly explained: “No no! It’s a stinky, spicy rice noodle from my homeland on Earth! It has sour bamboo shoots, peanuts, fried tofu skin, wood ear mushrooms, crispy fried egg. The broth must be overflowing with red chili oil and so spicy it makes you sweat. The stinkier the better—even tables next to you will question their life choices!”

The men sat stunned in utter silence.

Ye Yibai pondered, then pulled out his portable device: “I could ask the kitchen to make it from scratch—I think I’ve downloaded Earth’s ancient food recipes… but luosi? That’s a mollusk?”

Wen Nuannuan’s eyes lit up as she nodded: “Yes! They cook the broth with it. It’s super fragrant, but many don’t understand its deliciousness and say it smells—well, that’s the soul of it!”

At that moment, Gao Muting’s expression became indescribably bewildered.

“…You mean you ate this pungent, tear-inducing food since childhood?”

Wen Nuannuan nodded, her eyes shining: “Yes! If I was being naughty, my mom would coax me with it to eat!”

This time, not only Ye Yibai, but even Gao Muting was trapped in a vortex of cognitive dissonance.

—So, this was the pampered heir at the top of the noble pyramid, raised in an elite environment?

—Someone who should only eat molecular gastronomy with artistic names and drink aged cloud dew wines?

—Yet she happily craved street-side Earth grub?

Three minutes passed.

Gao Muting watched as Wen Nuannuan described in detail how the broth should be simmered and how sour the bamboo shoots must ferment. His gaze finally dropped. In a low, authoritative rumble he said:

“Cancel the menu. Keep the highest-level kitchen section available. Tell the chef to cook… Earth’s luosifen.”

Wen Nuannuan lit up as if she glowed inwardly, smile blazing in her eyes: “You’re so nice…”

She gently tapped the table twice with both hands: “So tonight you both eat with me—and tomorrow, I’ll decide—whoever does the dishes fastest!”

The two men: “…” Was it really that simple? Fortunately, it wasn’t a tough request.

They never imagined that the first job as Wen Nuannuan’s first husband would be cooking stinky, spicy Earth noodles in a top-tier galactic French restaurant—and competing on dishwashing speed afterward.

But the funniest part? Neither of them minded.

—That bowl of red oil hot noodles brought a grounded warmth to the entire restaurant atmosphere.

—The girl ate it with relish, her lips slightly swollen from spice, yet still smiling: “So fragrant! Thanks, Husband!” It was no surprise—Wen Nuannuan (Wen Nuannuan) was a born tamer. Both men had already surrendered, and her 21-year maidenhood simply persisted because she needed someone to say “I like you” in super direct terms—then she’d react… eventually?

Her smile was just that sweet—sweet enough to warm their chests, transforming them from war god and genius scientists into expert fry pans—to make her smile again.

They’d cook luosifen, wash dishes—whatever.

—This girl was now the center of both of their hearts.

She said she wanted something, and they were willing to grind the stars into a chili oil broth.