A Fake Marriage And We Still Have To Kiss? - Cha[ter 1

Chapter 1: Misplaced Search—Is My Next Career Move as a “Trophy Wife”?

December in the San Francisco Bay Area was bright and clear.

Warm light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the living room. Chu Fuxuan pushed open the door, carrying a cardboard box in one hand. His silhouette, illuminated by the sun, was tall and strikingly beautiful.

The small box was filled with miscellaneous items gathered from his office. He set it casually on the table and reached out to open the window. The sea breeze ruffled his long hair.

Chu Fuxuan tied his hair back loosely with a scrunchie and leaned against the windowsill, his fingertips tapping quickly on his phone keyboard.

Dad, I’m only twenty-five this year. Even if I were fifty-two, you should respect my personal wishes. I just quit my job and you’re already forcing marriage on me. Is my next career move as a trophy wife?

He spoke flippantly on purpose, but his father on the other end wasn’t deterred.

His dad shot back: You’re at an age where you should settle down. At least have some sense of priority. Other kids are doing internships while studying for civil service exams and grad school applications; how can you not have time during your career gap?

Chu Fuxuan chirped back: I have to pack up to return home to see you and Mom, and I have to find my next meal ticket. My schedule is packed, okay? There’s a lot to do before the flight.

His father gave a selective response: Looking forward to overseas specialties.

Chu Fuxuan stared at the chat box with clear, bright eyes, tilting his head slightly. He didn’t understand what “specialties” there could be from here.

He replied: Loyalty and filial piety are hard to balance. Allow me to solemnly remind you: firearms and ammunition are prohibited from entering the country as souvenirs.

His father replied with a mix of probing and teasing: I heard that in California, someone in your situation can get a marriage certificate. Customs won’t search you to see if you like men.

Sensing the underlying urge in the message, Chu Fuxuan became extremely alert and tactically remained silent.

Fortunately, his father didn’t press the matter further, giving him a temporary moment to breathe.

Their family atmosphere had always been harmonious. The elders were all good-natured. Chu Fuxuan had come out quite early, and it hadn’t caused any drama.

The only friction between the two generations was Chu Fuxuan moving overseas for work. His parents put on a brave, open-minded front to support his adventures, but behind his back, they couldn’t help but worry.

They worried he couldn’t take care of himself and feared his sexual orientation would draw cold stares. These worries were obvious without being said.

Chu Fuxuan didn’t want them to fret, so he had previously made up a story, claiming he was already in a relationship.

Beyond that, he bragged that his boyfriend was handsome, wealthy, and loved him deeply. He bragged so much that his parents nodded in relief, believing that a couple leaning on each other was far better than fighting alone.

Because they were so far apart, his clumsy tactics managed to stave them off—until his work contract recently expired.

He didn’t renew it, intending to look for opportunities back home. Who knew that before he even landed back in his parents’ hands, his life-long affairs had already been remotely planned out…

From his parents’ perspective, however, it was normal. Originally, they thought young people broke up and got back together all the time, so they let nature take its course without interfering. They hadn’t paid much attention to their son’s “wild” boyfriend.

Now that Chu Fuxuan was making a change, they naturally began to calculate more. Realizing this relationship was actually extremely stable, they felt it was only right to plan the future together openly.

To show acceptance and encouragement, his father took the initiative today, mentioning that Chu Fuxuan should consider starting a family.

On the other end, however, Chu Fuxuan had been exhausted by the handover of his official duties and had no time to ponder private matters.

Caught off guard by the marriage pressure, his brain stalled for a second. Wait, when did I get a boyfriend?

Luckily, he remembered right after typing a question mark. Chu Fuxuan had a strong personality and managed to survive the first round of the verbal sparring.

At this moment, he sank into the sofa, drained, feeling the whole thing was absurd.

“What will happen if I go back alone?” He suspected that scene would have too many loopholes; he’d be branded a “special grade” unfilial son in minutes.

The throw pillow in his hand was soft. Chu Fuxuan squeezed it idly for a while, letting his tense body gradually relax.

In the empty living room, he fretted to himself: “Where can I hire someone to pretend to be my partner? No decent person would want to take this kind of job, right?”

Even if he asked a friend to bail him out, Chu Fuxuan couldn’t think of a suitable choice.

The reason was simple: handsome men were too rare. The “corporate slaves” around him had already been worn down by life; they didn’t fit the “big pie” he had described to his parents.

Chu Fuxuan scrolled through his contact list in despair. He wanted to repent for the lie he had casually planted, but the sofa was simply too comfortable.

He had just finished working overtime and had no strength to resist. Hugging the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep, not even bothering to cover himself with a blanket.

When he woke up in the middle of the night from the cold, he groroped his way into the bedroom and wrapped himself tightly in a quilt. His movements were practiced and quiet, agile like a cat—if you tried to catch him, you’d only see a lean shadow.

Afterward, Chu Fuxuan silently accepted his fate and began looking for a part-time actor, hoping for a “pay-to-win” miracle.

The Big Data software noticed he was searching for good-looking actors and likely identified him as a lecher. Within two days, his homepage was flooded with “borderline” suggestive content.

Chu Fuxuan scrolled until he was dizzy, nearly ready to join an anti-gay group. Fortunately, a friend came over to chat, allowing him to escape for a while.

“Why is your expression so grim? What kind of monster has possessed you?”

After shouting, the friend added: “It’s just job hunting! With your background, you’re a hot commodity in the talent market! Have you looked at the projects I sent you?”

He was a headhunter in the gaming industry, the same as Chu Fuxuan, and had recommended several positions over the last few days.

Before Chu Fuxuan could consider them, he listened to the general overview.

“Don’t worry, small studios don’t have the nerve to poach you. The ones contacting us are all good,” the friend summarized.

Chu Fuxuan wasn’t sure: “I’ve heard of ‘Hongni’ a bit. Are they strict with hiring?”

Hongni was an internet conglomerate. In recent years, their gaming business had been booming. As a game designer, Chu Fuxuan knew they had won many awards.

“They contacted me as soon as they got the news. Their attitude is very proactive. As long as you don’t do something unforgivable to the interviewer, I think the chances of being rejected are slim,” the friend replied.

After saying that, he suddenly remembered something and sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“They just changed their high-level management recently. I’m not sure what the situation is now. A terrifying boss is more fatal than falling for a scumbag. You must keep your eyes open.”

Chu Fuxuan pondered: “Does their new executive have a bad reputation?”

The friend gestured: “Qi Yingzhu is quite fierce. And he’s gay!”

Chu Fuxuan repeated the name Qi Yingzhu in his mind, admiring his friend’s sharp insight: “You even know that?”

“Someone asked to add him as a friend, and he said it himself. He separated himself from heterosexuals the moment he opened his mouth,” the friend said candidly.

Chu Fuxuan: “…”

That sounded like a perfunctory excuse used on the spot. He curled his lip, not taking it seriously at all.

The friend continued: “Since he likes men, you must be careful if you go to Hongni. What if it’s a den of iniquity? You’d be jumping straight into a giant dye vat!”

Chu Fuxuan didn’t think he would be “eaten” or “soaked.” He said pityingly: “Even if that Qi guy is into men, he won’t go after every man he sees. Promise me, let’s not be narcissistic.”

As if finding it novel, he couldn’t help but curl his lips while discussing it.

Chu Fuxuan had a face that was almost aggressively radiant. His eyes were rounded just right, with the lines flicking up delicately at the ends.

His light-colored pupils were bright and clear. Even when not smiling, they were extremely vivid. When others caught sight of him, all they saw were vibrant colors.

The friend looked at him and instructed: “If you’re willing, I’ll give them feedback immediately. It’s a two-way selection, no need to feel pressured.”

Chu Fuxuan nodded: “He’s at the peak of his career; whether he likes me or not is another story. Thanks for communicating for me.”

He had other invitations as well, so he asked his friend to arrange those too, giving him more room to filter and negotiate salary.

However, objectively speaking, Hongni was definitely the best place to go—their industry status, benefits, and reputation were all top-tier.

Chu Fuxuan knew this in his heart, so he asked his friend to keep an ear out for any news or rumors he could use for reference.

The two had known each other for four or five years, so there was no need for formalities. The friend immediately sent over a picture.

Chu Fuxuan clicked to load it. It seemed to be a candid shot taken at a dim venue, creating a certain atmospheric vibe despite being slightly blurry.

A man had accidentally entered the frame, his face turned in profile. Although the pixels weren’t clear enough to see his specific features, it was enough to tell he was very handsome. The cold “do not approach” aura he radiated seemed to pierce through the screen.

Chu Fuxuan asked: Did your side job as a matchmaker send the wrong contact?

Friend: Please let me explain with respect. This is Qi Yingzhu. I took this and sent it to the headhunter group last time. Many people asked me how I got into a male model exhibition.

Chu Fuxuan was speechless, then joked: [If he ever joins the ‘service industry,’ let me know

He didn’t really cook at home, so he made a bowl of shrimp and fishcake instant noodles. He didn’t chat much more with his friend; once he finished, he wiped the table and washed the dishes.

After a while, his mother called him via voice chat, as she did regularly, to check on his diet and sleep.

Seeing the call from home, Chu Fuxuan felt secretly guilty and bit his lip nervously.

“Yeah, I made seafood noodles,” he answered. “I’ve talked to the landlord about moving out at the end of the month. The car has been sold. I’ll send my luggage by express mail.”

After the updates, they fell into a subtle silence before his mother spoke up without hiding anything: “Your father said he talked to you. We wanted to ask what you’re thinking?”

Chu Fuxuan braced himself: “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet…”

Immediately after, his mother easily changed the subject.

“That’s fine. It’s okay to date for a while longer. Let’s talk about the present. Where is he from? What does he do?”

Without letting Chu Fuxuan make something up, his father interjected: “Fuxuan handles things steadily; we can definitely be at ease about this. By the way, what does your partner look like? How about a video call another day?”

Chu Fuxuan shuddered: “He hasn’t been staying here lately. It’s not very convenient!”

“A video call is too much trouble. I just want a quick look,” his mother said. “Is there a photo we can see?”

The questions were getting harder and harder. Chu Fuxuan was dazed by the questioning, but it was misinterpreted as embarrassment.

His parents teased him for a few moments, joking that he actually knew how to be shy.

“Slow down, slow down. I’ll send one over in a bit,” Chu Fuxuan said, nearly surrendering, looking for a quick fix.

His mother noticed his stiffness: “You said he’s very handsome. Did he grow up ‘wrong’? That doesn’t matter; what matters is that you like him.”

His father acted like he was ordering from a menu: “A recent photo is best, otherwise we won’t recognize him if we run into him.”

It was too ridiculous for a couple not to have photos. Chu Fuxuan scrambled, trying to find a random internet photo to use as a placeholder.

Unfortunately, every page was either too “influencer-heavy” or had too many “edgy” filters. He bit his lip anxiously, hearing his parents “hiss” in confusion on the other end.

Sorry about this. Chu Fuxuan closed his eyes in pain and opened his chat history with his friend.

He made a split-second decision, clicked on that blurry profile shot, and forwarded it to the family group with one click.

Lacking the courage to look at Qi Yingzhu in the chat box, Chu Fuxuan’s gaze shifted as he solemnly introduced him to his parents: He’s very hot right now.

…

Qi Yingzhu felt something was off today.

After finishing the data sheet, he glanced out the window. It rained frequently during the winter in Shanghai. Even through the glass, he could feel the cold dampness trying to seep in.

Qi Yingzhu picked up his long-handled umbrella from the edge of the desk and pushed open the soundproof door. The office area before him was submerged in darkness, with only the elevator lobby faintly lit.

He often worked late until the early morning. His colleagues said they could tell he was single just by looking at his schedule; he was practicing the “Orthodox Path of Heartlessness.”

Obviously, Qi Yingzhu didn’t care at all. When people enthusiastically tried to play matchmaker, he casually found excuses to decline.

This behavior might seem a bit overbearing, but he held absolute power and had the right to act as he pleased. He was too lazy to pretend to be a gentleman.

When the elevator smoothly descended to the garage, Qi Yingzhu idly swiped his phone and clicked into the internal forum to see if there was any entertainment.

Why is the Lead Designer position for a certain core R&D group still vacant? Is our design position just a mascot?

Don’t get your hopes up for the Lead Designer role. Good things don’t go to outsiders. Why would they let someone else have a piece of the pie? It’s probably a battle royale between the high-level executives’ connections. They can bite each other until next year.

Unless Boss Qi keeps an eye on it personally. Honestly, whoever he likes will have the strongest backing. No one else would dare say a word.

Qi Yingzhu probably hasn’t paid attention to this. Everyone under him is obedient anyway. I’ve never seen anyone who could actually ‘tame’ him.

How old is he? Is he married? I ran into him once; he looks very young. No gossip?

28 years old. Indeed the youngest one in the group’s upper management.

Undoubtedly a bachelor. If a hard-blooded workaholic like him actually had a wife, she’d probably be remarried for three years before he even noticed.

The elevator doors opened with a ding. Qi Yingzhu’s eyes were cold. He disinterestedly closed the forum page, then drove home, planning to sleep after a shower.

Unfortunately, his sleep quality was extremely poor. Even after specifically changing his pillows, mattress, and duvet covers, he tossed and turned for a long time while his brain remained wide awake.

After about half an hour, Qi Yingzhu sat up resignedly and began searching for ways to make himself pass out quickly.

Take melatonin? If he took it now, he probably wouldn’t finish metabolizing it before tomorrow’s meeting.

Listen to white noise? He had already played it on a loop until his phone was hot.

There was one suggestion he hadn’t tried yet, which seemed worth a struggle: Consume boring electronic trash.

Qi Yingzhu browsed for a moment and chose between supervisor weekly reports, director monthly reports, and recruitment resumes. He picked the last category.

During this time, he indeed hadn’t noticed the vacancy for the Lead Designer. He always had a heavy schedule, and having recently taken over a new role, no one wanted to trouble him with this.

At the moment, high-quality resumes and portfolios had been uploaded to the group by HR for the relevant departments to review and discuss. Qi Yingzhu had muted the notifications when he was added to the group, and only now did he see that they had already gone through a round of talks with many candidates.

However, the results of the contacts weren’t great. Everyone’s attitude was conservative, or even picky and harsh.

Qi Yingzhu leaned against the headboard and scrolled through the group chat, actually feeling a bit of drowsiness. He didn’t know how long he had been scrolling up when a rare positive comment appeared.

Chu Fuxuan is quite good-looking. I dealt with him a long time ago. He’s very outstanding; his personality and skills are both solid.

Qi Yingzhu didn’t understand what “good-looking” referred to here. He immediately searched for the corresponding file. If the person was only describing his appearance, he would inevitably criticize the “visual animal” for a lack of professional quality.

However, a red pop-up reminded him: Not downloaded for more than 7 days, expired! (If needed, please consult the operations staff.)

Asking for the file specifically would make it seem like he cared too much about such a small matter. Qi Yingzhu indifferently turned off his phone, walked to the kitchen to twist open a bottle of mineral water, and found the sleep aid prescribed by his doctor.

He immediately put the discussion group back on his mute list. It wasn’t until his lunch break later that the HR Director asked him if he was going to California on a business trip.

“My flight is next week. Why?” Qi Yingzhu asked casually.

The Director said: “Everyone is eyeing the Lead Designer position. As you know, this role is crucial to the R&D group. I’ve compared many experts horizontally, and only one is left. We haven’t been able to meet due to regional issues.”

While video calls were convenient, it was easier to gauge someone’s worth in person.

The annual salary they offered was at least several million. The position and level were critical enough that it would be worth it for the HR Director to fly there specifically.

However, since Qi Yingzhu was going anyway, the Director suggested that they arrange a communication on their end first. If they were satisfied, they’d ask him to do the face-to-face screening. After all, the final hiring decision rested with him, so this would save a lot of trouble.

Although Qi Yingzhu had a cold and detached temperament, he didn’t put on airs and agreed to cooperate with the HR department’s arrangements.

The Director asked: “Are you in the discussion group?”

Qi Yingzhu said perfunctorily: “Yeah, I just looked through the chat yesterday.”

The Director was moved: “Then I’ll leave him in your hands.”

Qi Yingzhu frowned slightly and asked: “Who specifically? I finished those resumes but didn’t really remember them.”

Immediately after, he took the Director’s tablet, which had a file open on it.

Qi Yingzhu’s gaze fell on the screen. Because the photo was so unfamiliar yet so eye-catching, he couldn’t help but pause for two seconds.

Before he could see the name clearly, he subconsciously thought: There are still too many unprofessional visual animals in this company.

Then his gaze shifted to the side. Sure enough, the name column was marked with a name that wasn’t unfamiliar.

“Chu Fuxuan.”