Getting Married? I Thought we Were Sworn Enemies - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Marry me. Get married to me!”

Meng Lingyao felt as if he had misheard. With a gaze full of disbelief, he looked toward the opposite side—how could such a requirement pop out of his arch-nemesis’s mouth?

Was he still speaking Chinese? Why couldn’t he understand it anymore?

Simply preposterous.

Was the other party crazy, or was he crazy?

Or had the whole world gone crazy?

…

One hour ago.

Meng Lingyao lit a cigarette. His hand rested on the open car window, his two long, fair fingers gripping the cigarette he hadn’t taken a single puff from. He let the smoke curl and rise, permeating the air. The smell of nicotine seeped into his nasal cavity, blurring his thoughts. The red-yellow spark of fire slowly burned down as time passed, until only a section at the tail end remained.

The scorching temperature of the fire spark seemed to make Meng Lingyao snap back to his senses. He stubbed out the cigarette butt in his hand, shook his mind which was flooded with a thousand thoughts, and looked at his current reflection in the rearview mirror.

Decadent, dejected, with dark circles under his eyes—as if he had endured countless suppressions. Where was there any trace of his former self, who used to call upon friends and act in an arrogant, unbridled manner?

Meng Lingyao couldn’t help but let out a mocking sneer, looking at himself in the mirror with disdain and contempt.

“Meng Lingyao, you look like a dog right now!”

A stray dog from a broken home; looking truly pathetic, like a stray dog begging for food everywhere.

He stared at his own appearance and murmured a sentence, his whole being carrying a trance-like feeling of not being in the human world.

“Decadent” and “dejected” were his emotional labels lately.

It was as if every bone in his body had been snapped and crushed, draining all the strength from his frame—like a bright pearl covered in shadows, nearing total fragmentation.

Actually, regarding Meng Lingyao’s own self-deprecation, the reality was not quite that bad; in fact, it was quite the opposite.

His appearance was inherited from his parents’ excellent genes; it was as if all the inferior genes had been filtered out, leaving only the best.

An appearance leaning toward his mother made his features different from the sharp, angular lines of other men. Instead, his features were exquisite and his contours soft. Coupled with a frame that could be considered slender, his former temperament was arrogant and perverse. Even though his exquisite features were beautiful to the extreme, he looked, on the contrary, difficult to approach. The busyness and pressure of this period had not caused his looks to fade; instead, they added a kind of fragility that evoked pity, making people want to get closer.

Usually, a beauty who is bright, unbridled, arrogant, and relies on their looks to “commit violence” is hard to approach. But a beauty who is sorrowful, depressed, and frustrated makes one’s heart ache, wanting to hold them in one’s arms and cherish them properly.

His fingers tugged at the necktie tied around his throat, slightly loosening the collar—as if this thing were a shackle constricting his neck and making it impossible to breathe, or as if fate were a heavy yoke pressing down and bending his spine. He touched the overly formal black suit on his body, his fingertips smoothing the hem of the clothes. He checked the rearview mirror; even his hair strands were groomed very exquisitely. He pulled out his phone to check the time; there were ten minutes left until the appointed time.

As the time drew closer, that looming sense of panic naturally rose in his heart.

Meng Lingyao took a deep breath, blinked, and adjusted his state. He clicked on a certain “Green Bubble” app (WeChat) on his phone. Pinned at the top was a profile picture that was almost entirely pitch-black. He clicked in, his fingertips tapping the keyboard in the air a few times, seemingly wanting to reply to the other party that he had arrived. But for some reason, his expression became somewhat difficult to describe, and that sentence was never pressed.

“…”

Forget it, no need.

It wasn’t that there were no messages in the chat box; on the contrary, he had once unilaterally sent countless messages, and the other party had not replied even once to this day.

The other party seemed to be expressing disregard and ignorance—a loathsome attitude that treated him as nothing and looked down on him completely, which had once made him furious, cursing them countless times in secret.

Words like “hypocritical” and “vile” were all piled onto the other party.

Well… of course, the messages he sent weren’t very polite either. The last message was from two months ago; the last thing he sent was an emoji—one of a fist with only the middle finger standing up.

Yes, an impolite emoji.

Meng Lingyao lowered his eyes and pursed his lips. His lips were slightly dry, and his inner heart was extremely complicated.

Now that he was deserted by his followers and betrayed by his kin, it was actually this person who tried to extend a helping hand. He didn’t know what kind of price he would have to pay today to obtain the other party’s assistance.

Or perhaps today was just a bait released by the other party—they wanted to see him in a pathetic state, watch him as a joke, and toy with him, letting him have a taste of empty joy only to fall further into the bottomless abyss.

After all, the relationship between the two was very bad—to the extent that they wished the other would just drop dead.

Ever since he received the other party’s invitation, with the tone revealing an intent to cooperate and a desire for a large capital injection, Meng Lingyao had been uneasy.

Holding onto hope while worrying about disappointment.

Meng Lingyao, who considered himself and the other party to be in an “undying” (irreconcilable) relationship, had been overthinking for a long time.

The appointed time was approaching. Countless blows had given even the arrogant young master a sense of time, avoiding being late and adding to the other party’s ill will. Meng Lingyao had no choice but to restrain his various complex emotions, do sufficient psychological preparation, and coax himself into a good state before pushing open the car door and walking toward the Western restaurant.

He had already “broken the jar” (given up on himself); anyway, there was no situation more difficult than the current one.

Stepping into the Western restaurant, a burst of soft music reached his ears—soothing and pleasant to the ear, as if it could make one relax their body and mind. As a high-end Western restaurant, the atmosphere here was very good.

It was just that he was preoccupied with heavy thoughts and had no intention to appreciate it; he didn’t even know why the other party had chosen this place. His tangled heart caused a natural look of distress to appear on his face.

Under the guidance of the waiter, Meng Lingyao walked toward the second floor. Compared to the first floor, which still had some customers, the second floor was relatively quiet. Aside from the table with the best view by the window, which had one set of guests, there were no other customers.

He had booked the whole place.

Meng Lingyao raised an eyebrow and glanced around. As “pretentious” as ever, Meng Lingyao grumbled internally. He walked toward that table with the best view for appreciating the night scenery—the only table with a guest.

The other party was currently sitting upright in his seat, his head slightly turned, seemingly appreciating the beauty of the night. His side profile was very good-looking and handsome. The angles and contours were very powerful, and his whole person was tall and straight. Although he was sitting, a pressure typical of those in high positions lingered around him—majestic without being angry.

It was as if he were a commoner coming to have an audience with the Emperor; in the next moment, he could kneel before the other party and shout “Long live the Emperor,” needlessly feeling several heads shorter than the other party.

There was a bit of… an indescribable feeling of frustration.

Especially since the other party and he were already at two different levels. In the past, his own arrogant aura had crushed the other; now… things have changed and people are not the same, better not to mention it.

Clearly… they were the same age, but they appeared to be in two different states.

He was a stray dog; the other party was a renowned talent.

The other party’s career was successful, leading the family business to a higher level. He was the “Dream Lover” in the eyes of the public—wealthy, powerful, and handsome; a “Diamond Bachelor” who was No. 1 on the national “Most Wanted to Marry” list.

And what about him, Meng Lingyao? In just half a year, he had nearly squandered the foundation built by several generations of the Meng family. Decadent and pathetic, avoided by others—the “useless second-generation” in the eyes of the public.

His body was covered in labels such as “believing slanders” and “idiotic and stupid.”

One was heaven, one was earth—two extremes.

Truly frustrating, yet there was nothing to be done.

With just that one glance, the mental preparation Meng Lingyao had built completely collapsed. His footsteps faltered; he paused for a few seconds, his hand slightly clenching into a fist.

The other party just sat there simply, yet could precisely capture everyone’s gaze within the entire space—noble, elegant, and full of dominance.

Dressed in a suit and leather shoes, he looked like a “refined scum,” a “cunning old fox”…

In short, at one glance, he didn’t look like a good person!

Because of their previous grudges, Meng Lingyao subconsciously belittled the man further in his heart, constantly mocking him internally to bolster his own courage.

Once he got closer and realized he needed a favor today, his gaze collided with the other party’s as they turned their head. For a moment, he felt guilty; his eyes were somewhat unfocused, not daring to look directly at the other, yet he forced himself not to lose his momentum, standing tall with his chest out.

What are you looking at! Even if I am in this state now, I am absolutely not inferior to you.

That bit of pathetic self-esteem drove Meng Lingyao to hold on strong in front of his arch-nemesis, maintaining that last bit of existing dignity.

He was the kind of person who wanted it both ways—needing a favor from someone while still trying to maintain an equal relationship with them.

Qi Zhongjing had heard the slight movement from the moment the waiter brought the person up. His originally somewhat anxious heart settled down. He had originally thought that, given the other party’s personality, they might have treated his invitation with disdain.

He had been speculating and worrying internally; just now, his heart had been up and down without peace, but now it had finally landed.

A group of little people in his heart were dancing happily, so his eyebrows and eyes carried a pleasant emotion.

He slightly turned his head to look out the window. He had practiced in front of the mirror for a long time; he knew which angle of himself looked best. He seemed to be looking out the window, but the corner of his eye was peeking backward.

Is he here? Is he here?

He’s here, he’s here! He’s really here!

Ahem, I wonder if this angle will attract him.

As the person approached, the sound of footsteps became more obvious. He seemed only then to discover that someone had arrived. He turned his head elegantly and slowly, his expression controlled to be extremely normal. He said a sentence softly, his language familiar as if their relationship were extremely close.

“You’re here. Sit first; the meal will be served soon.”

His voice was pressed very low, full of magnetism.

His gaze was nailed to Meng Lingyao. The other party was exceptionally handsome today. His slender and tall frame was wrapped in a well-tailored suit. That waist, those legs—from the skin of his hands exposed outside, one could tell how fair and lustrous the inside was.

Under the reflection of the lights, his exquisite face was like a peerless treasure packed in a silk gift box; it made one truly want to hide him away, not letting others peer at him.

Especially the way the waiter had been secretly stealing glances just now—in his eyes, it was as obvious as two searchlights scanning. His dark thoughts flooded violently within just a few seconds.

I want to… hide him away…

Looking at the serious-looking Qi Zhongjing, his fingertips under the table were constantly rubbing his trousers, the movement getting faster and faster. Realizing his state of mind was losing balance, he immediately pinched his own thigh and twisted it hard several times. The pain finally brought back a lot of his reason.

Mustn’t scare him.

After all, the other party could always make him lose control.

Every move and action tugged at his heart and mind.

The intersection of their gazes only lasted a moment, but the thoughts in their respective hearts were completely unrelated.

“Oh.”

If I’m supposed to sit, I’ll sit. Meng Lingyao sat directly opposite. The other party’s unbridled, measuring gaze made him feel as if he were being stripped and weighed. He frowned impatiently.

Is he admiring my pathetic and miserable appearance to satisfy his hypocritical heart?

What are you looking at? If you keep looking, I’ll dig out your… eyes.

Meng Lingyao subconsciously wanted to argue with the other party. Fortunately, he suppressed the words at the tip of his tongue. His whole being felt extremely frustrated.

Endure. A little impatience will spoil great plans.

He lowered his eyes, no longer continuing to look at the other, letting the other’s gaze fall freely upon him.

For a time, there was silence.

The atmosphere was a bit strange. The two of them just sat there. Meng Lingyao didn’t know how to bring it up. His usually unforgiving mouth was now stuck tight as if smeared with glue. Needing a favor made him unable to squeeze out a single word for a long time.

Moreover, this time it was an invitation sent by the other party; it was also normal for him to wait for the other party to speak.

Perhaps… should… maybe…

The atmosphere was quite strange. His fingers tapped the tabletop, rubbing a corner of the napkin that had been folded into a paper crane.

“You…” What kind of bullsh*t are you holding back! Meng Lingyao was holding it in painfully. He raised his eyes to look directly at the other party, revealing a hint of impatience. His voice was somewhat hoarse, and he had just managed to squeeze out one word.