Oops, I’m the Scumbag Ex in Her Storyline - Chapter 63 (EXTRA 1)

Another winter. Xin Yan and Bei Lanlan stood in the entryway, checking their belongings.

“ID card?” Xin Yan asked.

“Got it,” Bei Lanlan replied.

“Household registration book?”

“Yours and mine. Mine’s too old—do you think I should get a new one?”

“Not important, not important. Marriage certificate?”

“Here it is.”

“Then there’s the agreement, the statement…”

Bei Lanlan turned and pulled a stack of documents from her bag. “All here.”

“So… everything’s ready?”

Bei Lanlan nodded.

They looked at each other for three seconds, then laughed together in unison: “Let’s go!”

________________________________________

Half an hour later, they arrived at the city’s Civil Affairs Bureau. The lobby was crowded. Just as they stepped inside, they noticed many people standing around for inquiries. A volunteer spotted them and walked over with a smile.

“Hello!”

Xin Yan and Bei Lanlan greeted politely together: “Hello.”

The volunteer, noting their radiant expressions, gestured politely. “Marriage certificates are handled over here. The line’s long; you might have to wait a couple of hours.”

Xin Yan chuckled. “We’re not here for a marriage certificate. We’re here for a divorce certificate.”

The volunteer froze for a moment and looked at Bei Lanlan. Leaning on Xin Yan’s shoulder with a sweet nod, she asked, “Do you know where we go for a divorce?”

“Uh… second floor, all the way to the end, then turn right,” the volunteer stammered.

After thanking him, they happily went upstairs, leaving the volunteer standing there, quietly questioning his life choices.

On the first floor, the marriage section was packed. The walls were plastered with heart-shaped images of couples holding hands, radiating happiness just by looking at them. In contrast, the divorce section on the second floor was nearly empty. The few people there sat silently, their expressions colder than the winter outside.

Xin Yan paused for a moment, glancing at them. Her mood dipped slightly. “Let’s tone it down a bit,” she whispered to Bei Lanlan.

Bei Lanlan nodded in agreement.

Suppressing their smiles, they blended in with the other couples waiting for divorce. Especially Bei Lanlan—her eager gaze fixed on the staff printing the divorce certificate mirrored that of impatient wives who couldn’t wait a second.

The staff was used to all sorts of scenes: some cried on the spot, others laughed to the sky, some seemed mentally unwell, and many thanked the staff profusely as if this single document had saved their entire lives.

But they had never seen anyone, after receiving a divorce certificate, hug their ex-wife in excitement while the ex affectionately patted their head.

Xin Yan felt calm. She waited for Bei Lanlan to compose herself before asking, “Next step?”

Taking a deep breath and holding the certificate, Bei Lanlan nodded. “Next step!”

________________________________________

And so, that day, the staff at the Civil Affairs Bureau—and even the couples waiting to get married—witnessed a truly unusual scene: a couple divorcing and immediately remarrying without switching partners mid-process.

All four certificates were brand new. After admiring them, Bei Lanlan carefully placed them in a safe.

“I’m going to call my mom,” she said to Xin Yan.

Xin Yan smiled lightly. “Go ahead.”

“Don’t you want to notify anyone?”

Xin Yan shook her head. “Who could I notify? Should I write a letter to my parents and burn it?”

Bei Lanlan went off, and Xin Yan sat alone in her study, unable to calm down.

Even though she wasn’t showing it as obviously as Bei Lanlan, this was her wedding day—a once-in-a-lifetime event. Normally, she would be bursting to share her joy with everyone.

But there was really no one to share it with.

Xu Fei had known for two months about her remarriage and teased her, saying she was stuck in last-century tactics. An Zhiyuan was out of the picture—the driver today had been arranged by him.

After pondering for a while, Xin Yan didn’t call anyone. Instead, she opened her almost-unused text messaging app and typed carefully:

“I got married today.”

Just four words. She sent them to two people: Jing Chu and Song Xizi.

After Jing Chu went to Barcelona, Xin Yan hadn’t seen or spoken to her. She had called Bei Lanlan a few times, but that was in the past; they hadn’t contacted each other since summer.

As for Song Xizi, Xin Yan still met her occasionally. Their relationship was no longer as tense as before. Just last month, they even completed a friendly collaboration without trickery or exploitation. After years of corporate rivalry, the staff had finally adapted to the new relationship style between Xin and Song.

Holding her phone, Xin Yan waited nervously.

Suddenly, her phone rang. It was Song Xizi. On answering, Song immediately blurted:

“What do you mean you got married today? Weren’t you already married?”

Xin Yan explained calmly: “That didn’t count. Back then, we had no feelings. Now we do. So we divorced and remarried.”

Song Xizi was silent for two seconds. “You do know that’s a last-century tactic, right?”

Xin Yan: “….”

Song Xizi: “Never mind. With your brainpower, I guess nothing else would work. Let me guess—now that you got your certificate, you’re going to announce it to the world. Wedding ceremony too?”

Xin Yan: “Of course. We’re planning an outdoor wedding next June.”

Song Xizi leaned back in her chair, smiling gently. “So you’re telling me this because you want me as your bridesmaid? You don’t have anyone else to ask, do you?”

Xin Yan: “…You’re overthinking. I wasn’t planning on inviting you at all. I’d send you an invitation, but you’d bring twelve people, and even before they leave, you’d be scouting your next sugar mommy.”

Song Xizi: “Stop slandering me! Don’t you know I’ve been dating my girlfriend for forty-two days?”

Xin Yan hadn’t known. She paused, then said ruthlessly: “Once you last three months, I’ll think about adding you a seat.”

She hung up before Song could respond, already picturing Song Xizi gritting her teeth in fury.

Xin Yan’s mood soared even higher. Just as she was about to put her phone down, she noticed a new message.

It was from Jing Chu, sent one minute ago. Even shorter than her own:

“Congrats.”

Six words from her, one word from Jing Chu. The cold brevity made Xin Yan smile softly to herself.

Setting her phone down again, Xin Yan left the study. Before even stepping out, she called out:

“Do we really have to wait until June for the wedding? How about March—or February? We could prepare heated seats for all guests, and not for Song Xizi…”