You Must Marry Me! - Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Yu Xiaotao was stunned. She had only wanted to eavesdrop on some gossip—she hadn’t expected it to be this explosive.
Taking advantage of the fact that the two hadn’t noticed her presence yet, she slipped out quickly along the wall and quietly closed the office door behind her.
Outside in the hallway, a crowd of people were peeking around, craning their necks curiously. As soon as they saw Yu Xiaotao come out, their eyes lit up.
“What’s going on?”
“I saw Qi Zhen looked really mad. Is Director Yan going to fire her?!”
“No way, I think I heard Director Yan crying.”
Yu Xiaotao waved her hand and put on a stern face. “Get back to work! It’s not even six yet!”
Everyone jumped at her voice. Seeing that she wasn’t going to spill any details, they reluctantly dispersed—though their group chat quickly lit up with chatter.
With the office door now shut, only Qi Zhen and Yan Yiyun were left, facing each other across the desk.
On the table lay that pack of Oreos, its wrapper torn open, a few cookies having spilled out and scattered across the surface, looking particularly tragic.
Yan Yiyun’s eyes were red-rimmed as she stared straight into Qi Zhen’s eyes.
Qi Zhen was utterly bewildered. She had no idea what Yan Yiyun was talking about. Had she heard wrong just now?
Was Yan Yiyun really saying, “Didn’t you promise to marry me?”
Was she dreaming? Why would Yan Yiyun say something like that?
Yan Yiyun was known for being cold and distant. When she first joined the company, people had lined up to suck up to her, but she ignored them all. It was as if she weren’t here to inherit a company at all—employees meant nothing to her; she just clocked in and out each day, emotionless.
Qi Zhen had noticed that Yan Yiyun treated her a bit differently.
At the very least, this aloof heiress had invited her to lunch, chatted with her in the break room, and even—now—pulled a childish prank by switching her snacks.
She truly didn’t understand what Yan Yiyun was trying to do.
Qi Zhen thought hard. Had she done something that gave Yan Yiyun the wrong idea?
She wasn’t exactly warm toward her, but she had kept things polite and professional, right?
Qi Zhen had known since early on that she liked women, which made her keep an extra distance from people—man or woman. She didn’t want to get close to anyone unless she really liked them.
She was pretty and had received confessions from both men and women. But someone like Yan Yiyun, charging up and blurting, “Didn’t you say you’d marry me?” That was definitely a first.
Trying to remain calm, Qi Zhen asked the girl across the desk, her eyes puffy and pitiful as if she had been the one wronged:
“Miss Yan, why would you say something like that?”
Yan Yiyun heard this and assumed Qi Zhen was trying to deny everything.
She slammed the “marriage certificate” down on the desk, her temper flaring.
“Look!”
She pointed to the name Qi Zhen had signed. She remembered that sunny afternoon and the warmth of it—but the more beautiful the memory, the more foolish she felt now.
“You signed this yourself.”
Qi Zhen was completely lost. She picked up the worn piece of paper—literally a tattered piece of paper that had clearly been kept for years. The edges were frayed, the folds nearly splitting the sheet apart. Faded red marker ink spelled out three words: “Marriage Certificate.” The color had faded to a pale pink.
The handwriting was childish, and underneath were two names: “Qi Zhen” and “Yan Yiyun,” both scrawled clumsily but with visible care.
“What is this?” Qi Zhen asked, baffled, staring at the paper.
Yan Yiyun’s tears flowed even faster. All these years, she had known Qi Zhen might not remember. She knew most people wouldn’t hold on to a childhood joke like that. But this little piece of paper… it had been her emotional support through countless lonely days and nights.
Choking up, Yan Yiyun asked:
“You don’t remember anything?”
Watching her cry, Qi Zhen felt a headache coming on. Yan Yiyun looked so heartbreakingly pretty when she cried, it stirred something soft in her. But truthfully—she didn’t remember any of this. Wasn’t she and Yan Yiyun supposed to have just met recently?
Yan Yiyun could tell from her expression that she really didn’t remember.
So she changed her question. “Then do you at least remember me?”
Qi Zhen felt even more torn. She wanted to say no, but would that make Yan Yiyun cry harder? She didn’t feel much for her, and yet seeing her cry made her unbearably uncomfortable.
Her heart clenched with every tear, and she wanted to wipe them away—comfort her. But she had no right to. It was a strange, frustrating feeling.
She slowly shook her head, avoiding Yan Yiyun’s gaze.
Qi Zhen didn’t want to lie. If she said she remembered, only for Yan Yiyun to later realize she wasn’t the person she was looking for, wouldn’t that be even worse? Better to be honest now.
After that, Yan Yiyun’s tears finally stopped.
She had confirmed Qi Zhen was the person she had longed for all these years… but Qi Zhen didn’t remember her at all.
Still, she couldn’t believe Qi Zhen didn’t remember her at all.
Clearing her throat, disappointment washing over her, she asked flatly,
“Did you ever go to the government kindergarten as a child?”
That triggered Qi Zhen’s memory.
When she was young, she’d lived with her grandparents in the compound and attended that very kindergarten. One year, midway through the term, a new girl joined their class—a shy little thing with a mushroom haircut.
She was timid and cried easily. That kindergarten was full of wild kids, and Qi Zhen was one of the few well-behaved ones. The teacher had seated the new girl next to Qi Zhen, and they coexisted peacefully.
But one day, even those little bullies started picking on her. Watching the girl tear up without even fighting back lit a fire in Qi Zhen’s chest.
So dainty. So helpless.
Qi Zhen usually didn’t meddle, but that day, something came over her. She stood up and shielded the girl behind her, scolding the bullies until they backed off.
Of course, kids being kids, they teased her afterward: “You must like her!”
Faced with the new girl’s teary eyes, Qi Zhen didn’t know what to say. But she also knew that if she didn’t stand up for her, the girl would get bullied even worse when she wasn’t around.
So she patted her chest and declared:
“Fine, I’ll marry her!”
Now, standing in the CEO’s office, Qi Zhen stared down at the “marriage certificate” that Yan Yiyun had carefully preserved for over a decade, feeling complicated emotions swirl within her.
She took a deep breath and asked, “You… were that little crybaby?”
It really was something. Back then, Yan Yiyun would peek at her with wide eyes, clearly wanting to play but too scared to speak up.
Every time Yan Yiyun looked at her, Qi Zhen couldn’t relax. Something in her heart would itch like a kitten pawing at it, just waiting for the girl to finally speak.
But she never did.
And now? That same girl was constantly in her face—inviting her to lunch, drinking her tea, switching her snacks. She even put on a whole lunch spread in the office!
Qi Zhen had only just resolved not to get tangled up with this future CEO anymore—and then this happens.
With a half-smile, she looked at Yan Yiyun. “You’ve really grown up, huh?”
Yan Yiyun, who had been full of righteous fury, suddenly shrank a little.
She peeked up at Qi Zhen and mumbled, “I… I’m not a crybaby.”
Qi Zhen pulled a tissue from the box and gently dabbed at her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. Even so, the tissue picked up a trace of eyeshadow.
Qi Zhen unfolded the old paper and smiled. “And what’s this, then?”
Yan Yiyun had no retort. She pouted, her heart fluttering with a strange feeling.
Qi Zhen remembered her. That made her happy—and curious. This Qi Zhen felt different from the one in her memories… but also kind of the same. Talking to her was thrilling in a way she couldn’t describe.
Wiping her tears, Yan Yiyun still sounded pitiful:
“Fine, I’m the crybaby…”
Qi Zhen patted her shoulder, amused. “And here I was just saying you hadn’t changed much.”
Yan Yiyun blinked up at her, feeling wronged.
“So am I… or am I not…?”
Qi Zhen had no words left. This girl—clearly smart, highly educated, and capable—still managed to come off as kind of clueless.
A strange tenderness welled up in her. On impulse, she reached out and patted Yan Yiyun’s head.
“You’re not a crybaby,” she said as she carefully fixed her makeup. “Don’t cry anymore. It won’t look good if others see.”
Yan Yiyun nodded furiously, her mind stuck on: Qi Zhen touched my head. Qi Zhen fixed my makeup. Work? What work?
Clutching Qi Zhen’s sleeve, she looked at her with bright hope:
“Then… can we eat dinner together after work?”
Qi Zhen had been planning to say no—she’d just sworn yesterday not to get entangled with this future CEO again. But looking at Yan Yiyun’s hopeful face and tear-reddened eyes, she just couldn’t say it.
Well, they had gone to the same kindergarten. That kind of made them… childhood friends?
One meal wouldn’t hurt.
Reluctantly, Qi Zhen nodded. “Alright. I’ll come find you after work.”
She didn’t want Yan Yiyun showing up in the design department again. After today’s events, the gossip would be deadly.
Yan Yiyun obediently nodded. “Okay, I’ll wait for you.”
Seeing she had calmed down, Qi Zhen patted her hand and said,
“Alright, then I’m heading back to work now?”
“Okay…”
Yan Yiyun didn’t want her to go, but it was still work hours. As the boss, asking Qi Zhen to stay and keep her company might come off as… weird.
She watched with puppy eyes as Qi Zhen stood up and headed for the door—then suddenly remembered something.
Snatching the paper from the desk, she called out:
“Then… does this still count or not?!”