Becoming the Runaway Little Wife of the Domineering CEO - Chapter 1

Today was the Mid-Autumn Festival. The streets were largely deserted as people retreated to the warmth of their homes for family reunions. Even the few pedestrians left outside were hurrying along, their brisk paces betraying a desperate desire to get back to their own front doors.

No one noticed a young girl stepping out from a dingy, cluttered alleyway on the corner. She wore a simple linen dress, her hair styled in an elegant, classical updo. She looked around with a dazed expression, clearly lost.

The girl was breathtakingly beautiful. One could take every word for “beauty” from dozens of languages across the globe, and they still wouldn’t capture even a tenth of her grace.

Yet, strangely, not a single one of the hurried passersby spared her a glance. Even when someone brushed past her close enough for their clothes to touch, they remained oblivious to the fact that such a stunning girl was standing right there.

Yin Shuang had lost track of how many days it had been. She still hadn’t found her physical form.

She had arrived in this realm full of high spirits, only to realize that searching for her sword was like hunting for a needle in a haystack. Feeling dejected, she squatted on the ground and began sulking, drawing circles in the dirt with a finger.

She could sense her body was somewhere in this city, but why was it taking so long? It had been a month. If she didn’t find it soon, her family back home would realize she’d run away.

Yin Shuang was a sword spirit born from an auspicious blade. She wasn’t particularly old—only about two thousand years or so. Back when she was “born,” a major crisis had struck her household, and in the chaos, no one had been able to look after her. Consequently, her physical form—the Silver Frost Sword—had been lost.

Having lived as a spirit without a body for two millennia, Yin Shuang never thought much of it. That changed recently when she read a book. The book claimed that the “union of spirit and flesh” was the most exquisite sensation in the world.

She understood “spirit”—she was a spirit. She figured “flesh” must refer to her physical sword body.

It was a revelation. If merging with her blade felt that wonderful, then she absolutely had to get it back.

If Yin Shuang’s family ever found out she’d snuck a peek at an erotic novel and that her motivation for finding her sword was to achieve a “union of spirit and flesh,” they would probably drop dead from pure indignation.

Yin Shuang had tucked the book away, swiped some pocket money from home, and fled the Heavenly Realm—a place teeming with immortals—to descend into this world where her body was hidden.

Because of the vast cultural differences, Yin Shuang had made a fool of herself more than a few times. Eventually, she resorted to masking her aura; as long as she stayed quiet, humans simply couldn’t see her.

Now, the frustration was mounting. And when Yin Shuang got frustrated, a faint, dark haze began to emanate from the top of her head. When Zhu Peier finally tracked her down, she almost didn’t recognize her.

Is this miserable-looking thing really the Silver Frost spirit?

******

Zhu Peier walked over silently and gave the top of Yin Shuang’s head a light pat.

Yin Shuang’s head snapped up. Her eyes—wider, brighter, and more sparkling than a cat’s—locked onto Zhu Peier. She tilted her head and greeted her with practiced ease.

“What’s up, sis?”

Zhu Peier: “…”

After a month in this world, Yin Shuang no longer spoke in flowery, archaic prose. She had adapted to the local lingo with frightening speed. Given another month, she’d probably be speaking with a thick regional accent.

Zhu Peier’s lip twitched as she bowed slightly. “Astral Guide Zhu Peier pays her respects to the Immortal Yin Shuang. The Empress heard of your descent and has dispatched me to assist you in completing your assignment.”

Yin Shuang blinked, shifting her legs which had gone numb from squatting. “Speak English.” (Lit: Speak human.)

“Fine…” Zhu Peier sighed. “Your mother found out you ran away. She thinks you’re being defiant, so she officially registered your name on the Three Thousand Star Chart. Finding your body is no longer a choice—it’s a mandatory mission. I am your overseer and your guide. From this moment on, you are forbidden from using magic or interfering with the natural progression of this world. If you don’t believe me, look over there.”

Yin Shuang looked. Two men walking by were now staring back at her, their mouths agape. Based on their shocked expressions, they were clearly thinking, ‘Holy crap.’

Yin Shuang panicked and stood up instantly. “I can’t use my powers anymore? Then how am I supposed to find my sword?”

Zhu Peier looked at her flatly. “You could use them before. Did you find it then?”

Yin Shuang: “…” Good point.

To the mortals, the sight of a beauty looking shocked while talking to thin air was bizarre, so Zhu Peier led her deeper into the alley. “To the people of this world, you are an outsider who shouldn’t exist. Now that you’ve been forced into the light, you must follow the rules. No more doing whatever you please.”

“But I’ve spent all my money,” Yin Shuang whispered. “If I can’t use magic, where will I stay? How will I survive?”

“That’s simple.” Zhu Peier beckoned her to follow. “As your Astral Guide, my job is to smooth the path so you can at least function here. I’ve handled the basics like food and shelter. Most people here spend their time working; you’ll need to find a job quickly. The money I’ve left you isn’t much—it’ll last you a week at most.”

No magic meant no hidden barriers for shelter. No magic meant no self-cleansing spells—she’d have to bathe every day. No magic meant no internal energy circulation—she’d actually have to eat food instead of living on air.

It sounded terrifying and exhausting, but Yin Shuang wasn’t too worried. A job? She’d just go find one.

They didn’t have to walk far. They stopped in a pitch-black stairwell where, by the moonlight, Yin Shuang thought she saw a pair of tiny, glinting eyes.

The eyes stared at her. She stared back.

Zhu Peier waved her hand, and a key appeared. She glanced at the plump rat having a staring contest with Yin Shuang and said casually, “It’s fine, just a rat. See how fat it is? That means the food here is great. If a rat can thrive, so can you.”

Yin Shuang: “…”

Zhu Peier walked inside, but Yin Shuang hesitated at the threshold. Zhu Peier turned back. “Why aren’t you coming in?”

She didn’t dare.

This “shabby little room” lived up to its name perfectly. It was, quite literally, a dump.

The walls had a gradient effect—white at the top, fading into a grimy black at the bottom as if they’d been scorched. As for furniture, there were only a few pieces, and every single one was ancient and broken. Yin Shuang squinted and realized her eyes weren’t deceiving her—the old wooden table was actually peeling…

The entire place was less than thirty square meters, with the living room, kitchen, and bedroom all crammed into one. Yin Shuang tentatively stepped forward, then pulled her foot back. She hesitated, stepped forward again, and pulled back once more.

Zhu Peier: “…”

Eventually, Peier had to drag her in. Yin Shuang had been clutching the doorframe for dear life; when she stumbled, the security door—which looked even older than Yin Shuang herself—gave an agonizing creak and slammed shut with a thunderous bang.

At the sound, a stubborn piece of paint on the table leg finally gave up the ghost and fell off with a soft clack.

Yin Shuang wiped her face, deeply moved. “Astral Guide… you are truly poor.”

“I just started this job!” Zhu Peier snapped. “I don’t have much funding.”

Yin Shuang was understanding. “I get it. This is ‘tough love’ to motivate me. Don’t worry, I’ll work hard and get out of this place as soon as possible.”

Fine, whatever.

“I can only project myself here once every ten days, and only for the duration of an incense stick,” Zhu Peier said. “I have to leave soon. You must complete your mission. Remember: do NOT interfere with the destinies of other humans.”

Yin Shuang nodded obediently. “Got it. I won’t have time for them anyway; I need to save myself from this nightmare first.”

“Good. So, tell me, what’s your plan?”

“Find a job.”

“How?”

Yin Shuang blinked. “I’ll walk down the street and look for ‘Help Wanted’ signs.”

At least she’s got some common sense, Peier thought. She smiled and continued, “And how do you plan to introduce yourself?”

“Hello, my name is Yuling Yin Shuang. Are you hiring?”

“No,” Zhu Peier shook her head. “No one in this world has the surname ‘Yuling.’ If you say that, they’ll think you’re in the final stages of a Chuunibyou delusion. Keep it simple: your name is Yu Yinshuang.”

Yin Shuang noted it down. Zhu Peier asked, “And if they ask how old you are?”

Yin Shuang grinned, showing off a row of pearly white teeth. “I know this one! I’m forty years old—the perfect age for hard work!”

Zhu Peier: “…”

She massaged her temples, took a deep breath, and looked up. “No matter what they ask, you are twenty. If they ask for your ID card, tell them you lost it and it’s being replaced. You’ll have it in a few days.”

Yin Shuang stared at her, wanting to ask why, but she had a feeling that if she spoke, Zhu Peier would have a mental breakdown.

The room fell silent for a moment. After thirty seconds, Zhu Peier asked, “The sword—any leads?”

Yin Shuang shook her head. “I can’t pinpoint it, but I know it’s here. In this city. Close by.”

Peier nodded. “Keep looking. I’ll go back and forge—I mean, process—an ID for you.”

As Zhu Peier prepared to disconnect, Yin Shuang grabbed her arm. Her eyes seemed to have four glowing words scrolling through them: LET. ME. CHANGE. FACES.

“Wait! Am I going out with this face? Can’t I swap it for another one?”

“No. Changing faces is too much trouble. Remember, no magic. Besides, this face is fine—being pretty makes things easier.”

With that cold rejection, Zhu Peier’s form faded away. She was gone.

Yin Shuang pouted. She just wanted to customize her appearance a little; was that too much to ask?

Zhu Peier had left a small wallet containing a single, crisp red 100-yuan bill. Yin Shuang went out and bought a box of grilled cold noodles, then huddled on the small, rickety bed in her small, rickety room for the night.

Early the next morning, she set out to find work. She had one unwavering requirement: the job must include room and board. She was never staying in that room again!

Finding a job was easier said than done. Even college graduates were struggling, let alone someone like Yin Shuang who had no documentation. She searched all morning to no avail. As she rounded a street corner, she heard a man roaring in frustration.

“I’m an assistant, not a superhero! These requirements are insane—is he looking for a live-in maid or a Miss Universe contestant?! Look at this: ‘Must be more beautiful than a movie star, cuter than an anime goddess, more sophisticated than a PhD scholar, and have elite cleaning skills.’ Is this a human request?! If someone actually looked like that, why would they come work as your maid?!”

Another voice, slightly quieter, replied, “What can we do? These are President Fu’s orders. Just try. Out of a billion people, we’re bound to find one who fits the bill.”

The first man let out a cold sneer. “Fine, go ahead and look. If you actually find someone like that—you see that pile of dog poop? If you find her, I’ll pull out a spoon and eat the whole thing, one scoop at a time!”

The words had barely left his mouth when Yin Shuang burst around the corner, looking at them with sparkling eyes.

“Are you hiring? Does it come with room and board?!”

“…”

Dammit.

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