Chapter Six: The Goddess’s Sudden Marriage Without a License

Chapter Six: The Goddess’s Lightning Marriage Without a Certificate

To win the hand of a beautiful woman, one must first win over her family. Rumor had it that Yang Xin’er hailed from a powerful and wealthy family, her background formidable beyond measure—the challenge, therefore, was self-evident. This reminded Zhang Le of a film he’d once seen in his past life, starring and produced by Xu Zheng. On a whim, he jotted down its outline.

“Getting the Father-in-Law on Board” was not a particularly well-known or highly-grossing movie. Its reputation was modest at best. Yet, as a pure comedy, it did what it set out to do—it made people laugh. The set was simple, the cast small, and for someone of Zhang Le’s current abilities, directing such a film would be more than manageable.

After all, Zhang Le had no experience directing movies. If he were to attempt a blockbuster like “Transformers” as his debut, he’d likely end up turning a potential classic into a disaster.

One must eat a meal bite by bite, and travel a road step by step.

Filmmaking is no simple feat. There are far too many variables to consider. Even a masterpiece, if released at the wrong time, risks being reviled as worthless, only for its name to be cleared when it’s long too late—flowers withered, justice delayed. Wasn’t Stephen Chow’s “A Chinese Odyssey” the perfect example? Or Xu Zheng’s “Lost in Thailand”—had it premiered at another time, would it have broken box office records?

As Yang Xin’er watched, a delicious aroma suddenly wafted through the air. Turning around, she saw Zhang Le carrying out a tray of dishes.

“Time to eat!” Zhang Le smiled, calling out to her.

“That smells wonderful!” Yang Xin’er put down her script and rose to her feet, her smile bright.

“Hmm? I never expected your cooking to be this good,” she said in surprise after tasting a bite with her chopsticks.

Zhang Le simply chuckled.

That night, Yang Xin’er didn’t leave.

The following day, they sat together in Yang Xin’er’s car outside the Civil Affairs Bureau.

“Have you really thought this through?” Zhang Le asked her seriously.

Yang Xin’er nodded, her gaze resolute. “Yes.”

“I’ll do my best. I’ll shield you from the storms,” Zhang Le promised inwardly, though he didn’t say more aloud. He knew full well what Yang Xin’er would face by stepping forward with him—years of hard work could turn to dust, dreams might shatter in an instant.

And Zhang Le was well aware of the pressures he would face as well, and the courage he would require.

The two of them had come to the Civil Affairs Bureau early that morning, intent on registering their marriage.

This was a flash marriage, with a hint of marrying on impulse. Moreover, they had to keep it secret. In some sense, it was a bare-bones marriage—Zhang Le had nothing to his name, though Yang Xin’er did not lack for anything. In ancient times, it might have been seen as a man marrying into the woman’s family.

They arrived in high spirits, not having done any research or inquired about the process, not even checking online for what documents they would need. As a result, they went in quickly and came out just as fast.

Most documents were easy enough to handle, but the household registration book was a real headache. For Zhang Le, it was a simple matter of going home or even just calling his family to have it sent over. For Yang Xin’er, things were trickier; without her family’s involvement, it was nearly impossible to get the household register.

For the moment, they were at a standstill, forced to take things one step at a time. But Zhang Le knew he needed to achieve something to ease the oncoming pressure.

Yet fate had other plans. The very next day, news of the two entering the Civil Affairs Bureau to register their marriage blazed across the entertainment headlines. One media outlet even ran the headline: “Goddess’s Lightning Marriage Without Certificate,” drawing countless eyes.

A goddess’s flash marriage was already explosive news, but to do so without the proper documents—such a flash marriage had turned into a farce.

In this age of information overload, anyone could find out what documents were needed for a marriage license with a simple online search, even if the couple themselves hadn’t known.

Yang Xin’er was at the height of her popularity, thriving across film, television, and music. She’d just released an album and was the focus of media and public attention. So this bit of gossip instantly seized the headlines.

Since her debut four years ago, Yang Xin’er had been linked to a few rumors, but those were later proven false—just the usual controversies that follow fame, with a hint of manufactured buzz. This time, though, it seemed real. After all, she’d actually been to the marriage registration office.

Lately, there had been no rumors about Yang Xin’er; the public assumed she had no boyfriend. Now, suddenly, she was registering for marriage—if that wasn’t a flash marriage, what was? The only thing missing was the official paperwork.

The news was so sensational it overshadowed all other entertainment gossip.

But with so many rumors flying around, people began to doubt the credibility of the news. These days, a photo doesn’t always mean the truth.

Of course, most of those expressing skepticism simply didn’t want to believe it.

The news was so shocking that even those who doubted it couldn’t help but pay close attention to the man who had walked into the Civil Affairs Bureau with the goddess Yang Xin’er.

There was no need for reporters to dig; Zhang Le’s identity was quickly unearthed by internet sleuths.

As the director and lead actor in Yang Xin’er’s new album MV, he wasn’t famous nor particularly noteworthy, but at least his face was familiar—at least to Yang Xin’er’s fans.

Still, that was all—a familiar face. Most probably couldn’t even recall his name.

Once Zhang Le’s background was exposed, the public interpreted it as a classic rags-to-riches, underdog-marries-the-rich-beauty story.

An underdog’s rise to win the heart of a rich, beautiful woman—how exhilarating. But, alas, the underdog wasn’t themselves, so they found it unforgivable.

In most people’s eyes, Zhang Le wasn’t worthy of Yang Xin’er—there was no need to debate the matter.

He wasn’t stunningly handsome, nor was he hideously ugly—just an average, pleasant-looking guy. But the entertainment world is never short on good looks.

Though people were curious how Zhang Le had managed to win over Yang Xin’er, most kept their curiosity private, especially her fans. They couldn’t accept their goddess marrying so soon—or marrying someone like Zhang Le, a man with nothing to his name and no achievements.

They called on Yang Xin’er to clarify things, to say it was just publicity for her new album. Marriage? Registration? Boyfriend? All nonsense!

As for Zhang Le, the fans showed no mercy.

His social media was flooded with insults—each comment more vicious than the last, as if he’d committed some unforgivable crime against them.

Previously, Zhang Le’s online presence was almost non-existent—just a few friends supporting him, his follower count barely in the hundreds, most of them inactive bots. The number of people cursing him now far exceeded his fans by a wide margin.

At first, Zhang Le was oblivious to all this, until his close friends began calling him.

He’d thought he was prepared, but only after reading the hate-filled comments did he realize just how much animosity he’d provoked over this matter.