After Marrying the Aloof Beauty, I Totally Fell for Her - Chapter 7
Chapter 7: Legally Married
The next morning, An Ning had no classes, so she made a point to get up early and take the bus home.
She had to tell her parents about her marriage to Mu Yan eventually.
An Ning’s family lived in the old city district, in the porcelain factory’s housing compound. It was one of the oldest neighborhoods in Yun City. The porcelain factory used to be a major industry there, but over time, it had been marginalized due to outdated production techniques. Though the surrounding streets and buildings had undergone a few rounds of renovation, the signs of age and cramped conditions were still evident. On either side of the narrow roads, large plane trees cast dappled shadows on the asphalt, also obscuring the view of the peeling facades of the old buildings.
Since it wasn’t the weekend or rush hour, the bus was mostly empty. Sitting in the last row, An Ning watched the trees slowly pass by outside the window and thought of Mu Yan again.
Teacher Mu had lived here as a child too…
She tried to recall any interactions she might’ve had with Mu Yan but could only summon vague impressions—no concrete memories. Like sugar dissolved in water, she could taste it, but not see it.
During the day, the porcelain factory housing compound wasn’t as desolate as it was at night, but it couldn’t be called lively either.
Many former workers had since moved to better neighborhoods. An Ning’s family had stayed only because her father’s injury and her medical treatments had drained their finances.
“Ning Ning-jie! Come play badminton later!” As soon as she stepped through the compound’s worn gate, a child’s voice called down from above.
She looked up and saw an eight- or nine-year-old boy leaning over the railing, waving at her with a smile. It was the grandson of Grandpa Li, a neighbor. The boy lived with his grandfather since his parents were too busy to care for him.
“Hey, be careful, don’t lean too far over,” An Ning called out once he stepped back safely. “Jie’s got something to do today, but next time, okay?”
“Ning Ning-jie, I got a rare card! You can have it!”
“Ning Ning-jie, here’s a candy for you!”
She exchanged greetings with several groups of children before finally making it home.
Most people in the compound had once worked at the same factory, so everyone knew each other. An Ning had been the ringleader of the neighborhood kids growing up. Though her childhood playmates had now moved away, a new group of kids looked up to her with admiration.
“Mom, Dad, I’m home,” she said as she opened the door. In the small living room, her parents were sitting on low stools, picking chives while watching a soap opera.
“Oh? What brings you home today?” her mom glanced at the calendar and called out, “Perfect timing! Come help out—we’re having dumplings for lunch.”
“Sure thing,” An Ning replied, grabbing a stool and joining in to help.
Her father, An Yajun, used to be a porcelain factory worker, but he suffered a serious leg injury during a production accident when An Ning was in middle school. Although the factory paid some compensation, his leg never fully recovered. He couldn’t walk far, let alone work.
Most of that compensation had gone toward An Ning’s medical bills. During high school, the whole family lived off her mother Liu Jiajing’s meager income until An Ning started earning prize money from badminton competitions.
She was grateful and deeply concerned for her parents. That’s why she never wanted to move far from them. Her biggest dream was to earn as many honors as possible while she still could, then stay on at Yun University as a badminton coach to be closer to them.
“This man is truly a scumbag,” Liu Jiajing said, eyes fixed on the TV while her hands didn’t pause for a second. “Married and still flirting with young girls. Someone should break his legs.”
“Exactly,” An Yajun echoed while trying to keep pace with her. After losing the ability to work, he had taken over most of the household chores and occasionally felt frustrated that he wasn’t as quick in the kitchen as his wife.
The drama on TV was an old-fashioned melodrama, which didn’t interest An Ning. But Liu Jiajing pointed a chive at her and said earnestly, “You’d better be careful when dating. Don’t end up with someone like that.”
An Ning flinched, accidentally tearing a chive in half.
“What’s going on? You hiding something?” her mom narrowed her eyes. Just from her daughter’s expression, she knew something was up. Half-joking, half-serious, she said, “Spit it out. The sooner you confess, the lighter the punishment.”
“Well…” An Ning hadn’t intended to hide it anyway, so she explained why she went through the gene match and mentioned the idea of a fake marriage.
But before she could even bring up Mu Yan, her mother interrupted.
Liu Jiajing put down the chives, her expression serious. “I don’t agree. If it’s a real relationship and you’re in love, I’ll help plan the wedding. But getting a license with someone you barely know just for that program? No way. What if they turn out to be shady? It’ll be a huge mess. Besides,” she softened a bit, “our family may not be rich, but we’re not so desperate. Your dad and I have friends—if we need money, we’ll borrow it. Worst case, we ask for donations and repay them slowly. I know you don’t want to burden us, but you don’t have to shoulder everything alone. You still have your mom and dad.”
“She’s right. You’re still young. This isn’t something to take lightly,” her dad added, looking downcast, as if ashamed that his condition had caused his daughter hardship.
“Mom, it’s not as bad as you think,” An Ning’s nose stung with emotion. She wanted to reassure them. “It’s… it’s Mu Yan.”
“We’re still not—”
They all spoke at once, their words tangling in the air before fading into silence.
Liu Jiajing’s mouth hung open in mid-sentence, while An Yajun dropped his chives. The three of them sat there, staring at each other in stunned silence. Even the intense melodrama on TV seemed distant.
“Who did you say?” After a long pause, Liu Jiajing asked, disbelieving.
“Mu… Teacher Mu,” An Ning stammered, also surprised by their reaction. “She used to live upstairs. You know her.”
Her mom nodded slowly and glanced at her husband.
An Ning watched as matching smiles appeared on both their faces—like a shared inside joke.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier? You scared us half to death. Hurry up and finish picking those chives—we still need to make the filling.” Her mom carried on as if nothing had happened. Her dad gave An Ning a mildly reproachful look.
“Huh?” An Ning was still overwhelmed. “So… you’re not against it?”
“Against what?” her mom replied, picking chives and watching TV. “We only objected because we were afraid you’d be tricked. But we know Yan Yan. She’d never hurt you.”
But I don’t know her. I can’t remember anything about her.
Once again, An Ning was taken aback by how familiar her mom seemed to be with Mu Yan.
“Oh, and even if it’s just a fake marriage, you’re legally married now. You’d better treat her well. Don’t go ignoring her for days—that’s just rude,” her dad added, patting her shoulder like a veteran offering advice. “You’ll need the household register to get the marriage certificate. I’ll find it for you. Take it back with you after lunch so you don’t have to make another trip.”
Even if I can get over the awkwardness, won’t Teacher Mu get annoyed?
An Ning nodded, half laughing and half crying. Maybe their families had been close before—but somehow, everything got jumbled for her.
All of Sunday, she was distracted—whether it was nerves about registering the marriage or the thought of seeing Mu Yan again.
An Ning, who usually didn’t overthink things, found herself staring at the dog on her teacup for half an hour. When Huang Lu slapped her on the back and asked if she was possessed, she finally snapped out of it and decided to head to the badminton hall for extra practice.
Yun University’s badminton team ranked among the best in the country. They had sent several athletes to provincial and national teams. The university had its own facility, well-equipped, and hosted annual tournaments.
An Ning was a core player, specializing in singles. She had once received an invitation from the provincial team but turned it down to stay close to her parents.
As a semi-professional athlete, this was how her coach once described her: decent talent, no ambition—heartbreaking.
Even so, the coach liked her. She was cheerful, never complained about training, and stayed focused.
Unfortunately, today was different. An Ning was clearly out of it.
After another netted shot, the coach pointed at her. “You—you—you! Stop practicing. You’re sleepwalking out here.”
“Sorry, Coach.” An Ning smiled and jogged over. She wore a sleeveless blue-and-white sports outfit with a black headband holding back her chestnut curls. Her limbs were long and lean, faint muscle definition visible beneath smooth skin. Combined with her babyface, she looked both youthful and striking.
The coach understood why half the team, regardless of gender, had a crush on her. She was the kind of girl who lived in people’s memories as an unattainable first love.
“Something on your mind?” he asked, offering her a drink as she sat beside him.
“Is it that obvious?” An Ning gave a wry smile.
“Come on, spill it. Maybe I can help.”
An Ning hesitated a moment, then asked, “Coach, are you married?”
The over-thirty, single coach almost choked on his drink. “No! Why?”
“Just curious. I guess I don’t really have a problem,” An Ning quickly backtracked, realizing this conversation wasn’t going to help.
Coach: “…”
What’s with that sympathetic, ‘you wouldn’t understand my pain’ look? Who’s the coach here?
Her plan to sweat out her anxiety had failed. Back in the dorm, An Ning lay in bed, sleepless again.
Ever since she met Teacher Mu, her sleep quality had taken a nosedive.
Just as she was feeling helpless, her phone buzzed. An Ning’s heart skipped a beat as she grabbed it—sure enough, that cactus avatar had a red dot.
MY: When are you free tomorrow?
An Ning typed a long message, then deleted it all and just sent her schedule.
Me (Not Sour): Anytime I’m not in class.
MY: I’ll wait for you at Yun University’s east gate at 9:30.
Me: Okay.
Mu Yan’s texts, like her speech, were brief and to the point.
An Ning thought that was the end of it, but just as she was about to reply again, the phone buzzed.
MY: Do you have a dress shirt?
Good question—she couldn’t exactly wear a T-shirt with a cartoon graphic for a marriage photo.
She remembered she had a school uniform shirt. It wasn’t the best quality, but it would do.
Me: I do.
MY: Mm.
This time, An Ning waited thirty seconds to make sure Mu Yan wouldn’t reply again before sending her next message.
Me: Teacher Mu, should we sign a prenuptial agreement or something…
She’d thought of it after watching a drama where the couple signed one. It might not be necessary in their case, but she felt she should at least mention it.
Mu Yan didn’t reply for five minutes.
Is she mad again…?
An Ning stared nervously at her phone, unease growing. She didn’t even know what Mu Yan would be mad about, but still had a bad feeling.
Just as she was about to send a sticker to apologize, a picture popped up.
She opened it—a doodle, likely drawn on a phone. The lines were simple but expressive, just like Mu Yan’s avatar.
It was a cartoon dog being dragged out by its paws.
As if worried An Ning wouldn’t understand, the artist helpfully added a caption: “Get lost.”
An Ning burst out laughing.
Teacher Mu is so cute…
The sudden thought startled her. Turns out, as long as she wasn’t looking at Mu Yan’s actual face, she was pretty brave.
She sent back a sticker that said “Roger that” and was about to lock her phone when it buzzed again.
MY: Get some rest.
An Ning stared at the short sentence, picturing Mu Yan’s face, but couldn’t imagine how her lips would move saying those words.
Still, politeness must be returned.
She replied with a sticker of a bear tucking itself into bed.
Me: Goodnight.GIF
She put her phone away. This time, whether because the matter was finally settled or for some other reason—she fell asleep quickly.
Meanwhile, Mu Yan stared at that little bear sticker for five minutes before closing the chat. In her WeChat inbox, every avatar had a red dot except the pinned chat with An Ning. She clicked the topmost message.
Three months ago
Yuan Zi: Boss, you’ve been missing for over four months. I know it was hard after your mom passed, but life has to go on. Please just reply. The studio staff are getting anxious.
One month ago
Yuan Zi: Are you still alive? I swear I’ll call the cops if you don’t answer soon!
One week ago
Yuan Zi: “River & Sea” has been sold. The price was 1.5x higher than “Cliff.” Aside from studio expenses, the rest is in your account. I also emailed the breakdown. People online think you’re dead!
Yuan Zi was Mu Yan’s studio manager and college friend. She was one of the few who truly understood Mu Yan. She knew Mu Yan would vanish whenever she felt down or uninspired, so even after months of silence, she hadn’t called the police. She’d just kept the studio running.
MY: Find a few aggressive lawyers and sue some of them.
Yuan Zi: !!!!!!!!
Yuan Zi: You’re back! Thank god!!
MY: Say what you need to say.
Yuan Zi: Nothing major—some auction houses want to know when you’ll release new work. The guy who stole your identity is in prison now. Also, LOKA wants to do a jewelry collaboration with “River & Sea.” The contract’s signed, and the money’s coming soon. Lastly, the A Province Artists Association wants to host a streaming exhibition in Yun City and invited you to contribute a lead piece.
MY: Handle the rest yourself. I don’t have time to paint right now.
Yuan Zi: What are you busy with? Everyone in the studio is bored stiff.
MY: Salaries stay the same. Let them entertain themselves. I’m getting married tomorrow and will probably take a few more months off for marriage leave.
There was a pause.
Then a voice call came through.
Mu Yan calmly declined.
MY: Contact me if it’s urgent. Spare me the screaming.
She neatly shut out her manager’s shrieks through the network.