Chapter 2 — The Red Book
914 Words
Chapter 2 — The Red Book
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Sleep didn't come.
I lay in my narrow bed watching the ceiling, shadows shifting as headlights swept across the window and faded. The folder from Zhou Min sat on my nightstand. I didn't need to open it. I'd memorized the photo inside.
Those eyes. That quiet expression that wasn't quite a smile.
Xu Jinyan.
The same name as the Faceless Actor. Some cosmic joke that the man I was supposed to marry shared a name with someone that famous.
At 3 a.m., I gave up on sleep and searched his name online.
The results flooded with the famous one. Drama posters. Award announcements. Fan theories about his real face. Pages and pages about a man who'd built his career on never being fully photographed.
I added: Xu Jinyan actor unknown.
Nothing. Not a credit. Not a photo. Not a forgotten student film.
I set my phone down. Fine. Whatever. I was about to marry a man with no internet presence and a name that belonged to someone else.
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Zhou Min's message came at 8 a.m.
Zhou Min: Civil Affairs Bureau. 10 a.m. Bring your ID. Don't be late.
Civil Affairs Bureau. The place where the government stamped your name beside a stranger's and didn't care about your feelings about it.
I dressed in the first thing I grabbed. Didn't bother with makeup. What was the point? The photo on the marriage certificate would look exactly like what this was—two people who didn't know each other, standing in front of a camera because they had to.
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He was already there when I arrived.
Standing near the entrance of the gray building with his hands in his pockets. Dark jacket. White shirt underneath. The morning sun caught the edge of his jaw.
He looked exactly like his photo. Calm. Still. Not nervous at all.
"You're early," I said.
"So are you."
A couple came out of the Bureau doors clutching red booklets, the woman laughing, the man wiping his eyes. Happy people. People who'd chosen each other.
I looked away.
"Shall we?" he asked.
I nodded. My voice had gone somewhere unreachable.
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Inside was cold. White walls. Fluorescent lights that hummed. Rows of plastic chairs filled with couples—some holding hands, some sitting apart, one woman crying quietly into a tissue while her partner stared at the floor.
We filled out forms. Name. Date of birth. Address. Marital status.
Single. I'm still single. For the next two minutes, I'm single.
My pen stopped above the signature line.
Beside me, he hadn't started writing either. I glanced up. He was watching me.
"Take your time," he said.
Quiet. Not pushing.
I signed. The pen scratched against the paper. My name came out slightly crooked.
He signed next. His signature was clean. Precise. No hesitation.
The officer stamped something. Reached beneath the counter. And then two small red booklets slid across the counter toward us.
"Congratulations. You're legally married."
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I picked mine up.
The cover was smooth. Cool. Gold lettering: Marriage Certificate. I opened it. Our photo—taken minutes ago against a white wall. Two people who'd met once. Not smiling. Not touching.
I closed it.
Sighed.
Tossed it into my bag.
"Well," I said. "That happened."
He was watching me. His own red book was already tucked away.
"Zhou Min wants us back at the office," he said. "There's a private contract to sign."
Right. The contract. The part that actually mattered.
A black car had pulled up to the curb. Tinted windows. Silent engine. He opened the door and I slid inside without looking back at the building.
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Zhou Min's office looked exactly the same as yesterday. Same monitors. Same paper stacks. Same controlled chaos.
But everything else had changed.
She slid two documents across the desk.
"Private contract. One-year term. Cohabitation at agency-provided residence. Minimum four public appearances per month. After the term, if both parties consent, divorce proceedings begin."
Divorce. I'd been married for less than an hour.
I looked at him. He was already reading through the document.
"Does this feel strange to you?" I asked.
He glanced up. "Strange?"
"Signing a contract about ending something that hasn't started."
He set his pen down. "Would you rather not sign?"
"That's not—" I pressed my fingers against my temple. "I don't know what I want."
"You don't have to know right now."
Quiet. Not dismissive. Just patient.
Zhou Min tapped her tablet. "Sign now. Process later."
I picked up the pen and signed. He signed too. Clean and precise.
Zhou Min gathered the documents and stood. "Residence ready Friday. Xu Jinyan, you'll handle the move."
"Yes."
"Good." She looked at me. "Lin Yue. Get some rest."
She left.
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I sat there for a moment, staring at the empty chair behind the desk. Then I stood and grabbed my bag.
"Friday," he said.
"I heard."
"I'll arrange everything. You just need to pack."
I nodded. He straightened his jacket. At the door, he paused without turning around.
"Lin Yue."
"What?"
A beat of silence. "Try to eat something today. You'll feel better."
He left.
I stood alone in Zhou Min's office. My bag was heavier now, the red book buried somewhere at the bottom.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: The residence address will be sent Friday morning. I'll arrange transportation.
I stared at the screen.
I hadn't given him my number.
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End of Chapter 2
- Writer
