WRA CH3

Chapter 3: Can I Call You Hubby?

Zhou Sicheng drove to the residential complex where Xiang Zhen lived and inquired with the elderly security guard at the gate about renting a parking space.

The old man glanced at his tailored suit and blew out a ring of cigarette smoke. “One thousand a month. Long-term rentals are open for negotiation.”

Zhou Sicheng paid for only a single month.

He had no expectation that his cohabitation with Xiang Zhen would last very long.

Perhaps Xiang Zhen possessed impeccable acting skills and had recognized him long ago; perhaps seeing his refined clothing led Xiang Zhen to disregard his claims of poverty altogether; or perhaps it was mere physical attraction rather than genuine love. Once Xiang Zhen realized Zhou Sicheng truly had no wealth to his name, would any affection remain?

Zhou Sicheng took the elevator from the underground garage up to the sixteenth floor. The elevator walls were plastered with flyers and classified ads, like a spreading psoriasis that seemed ready to creep onto his leather shoes at any moment. As soon as the doors parted, Zhou Sicheng strode out.

The layout before him was peculiar.

Squinting through the dim hallway light, he located the unit number “1609” and knocked on the door.

Earlier that afternoon, he had merely dropped Xiang Zhen off at the front gates without accompanying him upstairs. Had he known Xiang Zhen lived in a subdivided apartment, he would have suggested: “A friend of mine has a vacant property.”

Inside the unit.

Xiang Zhen was working hard on cleaning up.

Since arriving in the city, he had not earned much money, but he had ordered plenty of takeout—especially oversized cups of milk tea and slices of cake.

The sturdy milk tea buckets and cake boxes were molded from fine plastic, so Xiang Zhen never threw them away, repurposing them as flowerpots to cultivate sunflowers.

He had purchased a burlap sack of rich black soil online. Every time he finished a cup of milk tea, he shoveled in a scoop of dirt and planted a seed. In the narrow strip of floor between the window and the bed sat more than twenty pots of newly sprouted sunflowers, crowding an already cramped rented room.

Xiang Zhen nudged the pots together to clear a bit of walking space.

A knock sounded at the door. Xiang Zhen set down his mop and swung the door open with a beaming smile. Standing outside was the tall, handsome Zhou Sicheng—no longer wearing the dark gray three-piece suit from earlier, but rather a more casual light blue dress shirt and trousers, holding a waist-high rolling suitcase in his left hand. The clean, refined business-travel look utterly captivated Xiang Zhen on the spot.

Zhou Sicheng’s gaze settled on the cream-colored floral apron tied snugly around Xiang Zhen’s waist as Xiang Zhen looped an arm through his, ushering him inside.

Clang—the rusted metal door required a forceful slam to shut completely.

Zhou Sicheng released the luggage handle and scanned his surroundings.

The room contained a television, sofa, wardrobe, stovetop, and bathroom—fixtures encircling a single double bed in a full 360-degree perimeter, packed tighter than a sparrow’s internal organs.

Wait. What was that—

Frowning, Zhou Sicheng asked, “Why is there a fertilizer sack in here?”

Xiang Zhen: “Oh, it’s not fertilizer. It’s nutrient-rich potting soil.”

“Potting soil?” Zhou Sicheng looked at the sack sitting less than twenty centimeters from the foot of the bed. “Aren’t you worried bugs will crawl into your bed at night?”

Xiang Zhen: “They won’t. I keep them under control.”

Zhou Sicheng took a step further inward and noticed the array of milk tea buckets of various sizes. Such a tiny room had actually been turned into a vegetable patch.

He found it completely intolerable.

He couldn’t help suspecting that during morning bathroom rushes, Xiang Zhen might urinate directly onto the plants as fertilizer.

And a few days later, those plants might be served on the dining table.

He must have lost his mind today.

Zhou Sicheng pivoted: “I came tonight because I wanted to give you the car.”

Get rid of the car, and put an end to this unhinged day.

A car? Why give him a car out of nowhere? He didn’t even know how to drive. Xiang Zhen quickly searched his mental database for “gifting a car,” which surfaced the phrase “dowry vehicle.” His eyes instantly sparked: “Did you rush over tonight because you want to register our marriage tomorrow?”

Zhou Sicheng: “…I am in debt. Do you still want to register a marriage with me?”

Xiang Zhen: “How much debt?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Three trillion.”

“Thirty-one thousand?”

Xiang Zhen took on an expression that said this isn’t hard to manage at all. Pulling out his phone, he tapped away: “After paying rent, I happen to have thirty thousand left!”

A second later, Zhou Sicheng’s WeChat received a transfer of thirty thousand yuan.

Xiang Zhen looked up: “Now we can register.”

Although he had promised Auntie Guihua that he would bring his partner back for her to meet the moment he found someone, both he and Zhou Sicheng were in tight financial spots. Returning home empty-handed would be humiliating; he would tell Auntie Guihua after they made big money.

Zhou Sicheng froze where he stood. The image of Xiang Zhen’s remaining balance—107.25 yuan—floated through his mind. Walking out of this room would take no more than three steps.

“Two men cannot legally register a marriage.”

Xiang Zhen went blank: “Ah?”

Zhou Sicheng frowned: “Didn’t you know the law only allows marriage between opposite sexes?”

Xiang Zhen’s eyelashes fluttered. Huh? The Guide to Adulthood never mentioned this. Had he made a mistake?

Yet he had finally found his Sun God. If they couldn’t get married, what were they supposed to…?

Confusion, guilt, and a hint of retreat flickered across that fair, tender face in rapid succession.

Backing out?

Acting on some unexplainable impulse, Zhou Sicheng said, “However, cohabitation also constitutes a de facto marriage.”

The tangled ball of yarn in Xiang Zhen’s thoughts instantly smoothed out: “Right! That equals getting married too!”

“Then I can start calling you hubby right now!”

“We can address each other by name.” Zhou Sicheng was taken aback by the thunderous title, suddenly remembering a crucial question: “How old are you?”

Xiang Zhen pursed his lips, thoroughly unskilled at lying to his husband: “Twenty.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Let me see your ID card.”

Xiang Zhen pulled the card from his bag. The ID listed him as twenty, though factoring in his years as a plant in the mountains, he was far older. He had originally asked Auntie Guihua to register him as an older age—say, thirty-five—so people outside wouldn’t look down on him, but Auntie Guihua pointed out that finding a job at thirty-five was difficult.

Zhou Sicheng inspected the ID card, handed it back, and gave him a strange look: “You’re not underage, so why look so guilty?”

Xiang Zhen: “I’m not guilty!”

Zhou Sicheng: “Married life requires mutual adjustment. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Xiang Zhen thought to himself that twenty truly sounded too young; Zhou Sicheng’s tone resembled a schoolteacher’s. He nodded.

Zhou Sicheng: “I cannot accept growing vegetables in the bedroom.”

Xiang Zhen processed the words, then crouched down to cradle a milk tea bucket: “These aren’t vegetables. These are baby sunflowers. They’re very cute.”

The sunflower shoots had just emerged from the soil, still wearing seed hulls on their heads, their two thick cotyledons about to spread open into true leaves.

Zhou Sicheng: “Sunflowers?”

Xiang Zhen lifted his gaze: “Do you like sunflowers?”

“I do, but—” Zhou Sicheng pictured them growing nearly two meters tall, crowding around the bed and drooping their massive flower heads to stare down at them while they slept.

“Growing sunflowers in a bedroom isn’t good. There isn’t enough light.”

Xiang Zhen: “Once they grow bigger, I’ll move them outside. Right now they’re still babies.”

The little sunflowers needed to be moved outside, but Xiang Zhen didn’t, because with Zhou Sicheng standing right here, sunlight was in abundant supply.

Xiang Zhen: “Hubby, do you want to take a shower?”

Unaccustomed to the term of endearment, Zhou Sicheng simply replied, “Mn.”

Xiang Zhen led him to the bathroom: “Hot water is on the left. Body wash is in the cabinet.”

The building was a split-level design with low ceilings; the subdivided unit’s bathroom was an artificially raised, windowless interior stall with exhaust pipes running along the ceiling. Just standing inside, the crown of Zhou Sicheng’s head grazed the partition board.

Zhou Sicheng’s desire to shower dwindled considerably.

Xiang Zhen: “Hubby, take your time showering. Don’t worry about saving water or electricity on my account. I’ll watch some TV.”

Zhou Sicheng’s desire to shower seemed to return.

With that, Xiang Zhen opened the property management mini-program and topped up one hundred yuan for utilities. Yao had no need for hot showers, so Xiang Zhen never turned on the water heater for himself, only ever recharging utilities twenty yuan at a time to keep property management from overcharging him. But now that he had a husband, he couldn’t let the power or water cut out on him mid-shower.

While Zhou Sicheng showered, Xiang Zhen turned on the television. Without a paid membership, the screen could only play the first episodes of a few featured programs on the homepage.

Xiang Zhen selected the first episode of a cartoon.

This was his fifth time watching it.

The Guide to Adulthood stated that one had to watch an episode of cartoons after dinner. Xiang Zhen found it somewhat dull and had planned to skip it today, but since Zhou Sicheng was here, he had to adhere strictly to the Guide to avoid arousing suspicion.

Watching several dogs rescue a stranded ship for the sixth time, Xiang Zhen browsed his phone while waiting for his husband to finish. His workplace group chat was buzzing with activity, everyone sharing the same application.

[Download the AI assistant Xiao Kui Bao¹ to receive red packets up to 18 yuan!]

[I got 16!]

Xiao Kui Bao was an artificial intelligence product under the Zhoufu Group. It was the conglomerate’s single most cash-burning project, boasting the top market share with computing power costs alone burning three hundred million daily.

The Zhoufu Group was pouring funds into promotion during the second quarter because Xiao Kui had launched a new feature—a chat assistant. Once introduced into any messaging thread, it could retain conversational history and chime in according to the persona and stance designated by its master.

AI had previously faced criticism for sounding stiff and awkward without genuine human warmth. Xiao Kui’s team refined the model and introduced it into group chats for training to enhance its comprehension of conversational fragments and create a true conversational AI.

After downloading the app, Xiang Zhen saw a colleague mention introducing Xiao Kui into a chat with her blind date. Setting its persona as an enthusiastic, gossipy matchmaker yielded remarkable results; where conversations had once stalled at perfunctory greetings like “good morning” and “have you eaten,” Xiao Kui Bao racked its digital brain to propose topics, guide mutual understanding, and plan date locations, curing all awkward matchmaking silences.

A male colleague from another department mentioned that he always lost arguments to his wife due to her twisted logic. He configured Xiao Kui as a “chat arbitrator” aligned with his perspective—turning it into a two-on-one setup where both he and the AI were scolded into trembling silence by his wife, though he didn’t mind, as someone finally shared the scolding with him.

Xiang Zhen was immediately sold.

He and his husband were barely acquainted; they desperately needed a conversational assistant to break the ice.

He liked the name Xiao Kui Bao; it felt like family at first glance.

Following several taps, a bot named “Xiao Kui” appeared in Xiang Zhen’s WeChat contacts. He granted it access to storage, camera, microphone, and location, permitting it entry into his chat with Zhou Sicheng.

Next, he needed Zhou Sicheng’s authorization.

Xiang Zhen waited outside the bathroom door. The sound of running water ceased, and a moment later, the door creaked open, warm steam billowing out across Xiang Zhen’s face.

The bathroom threshold was raised, so Xiang Zhen, standing on the lower floor, reached only Zhou Sicheng’s chest level. Suddenly, his eyes were filled with Zhou Sicheng’s sculpted chest and defined abdominal muscles.

None of this had been visible during the blind date!

My husband has abs!

Zhou Sicheng looked down at him: “What are you doing hovering out here?”

Xiang Zhen: “I… I downloaded a chat assistant called Xiao Kui. Please approve the invite.”

Zhou Sicheng recognized it immediately.

It was Xiao Kui Bao.

Activating Xiao Kui Bao required consent from everyone in the chat—both a privacy safeguard and a user-acquisition tactic.

“All right.”

Approaching it with the mindset of testing the product, Zhou Sicheng picked up his phone from the table and accepted the request. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the television screen, discovering that Xiang Zhen was actually watching Paw Patrol, a childish cartoon aimed at three-year-olds.

Xiang Zhen noticed a tiny sunflower icon appear in his chat with Zhou Sicheng.

Copying a command template from online, Xiang Zhen typed: [@Xiao Kui, I am an after-sales customer service rep at a nut company, and my husband @Zhou Sicheng is a ride-hailing driver. We just met through a blind date and had a whirlwind marriage. You are our close confidant with whom we share everything. Speak casually, and please help us strengthen our relationship.]

[Xiao Kui: Understood! Zhou Sicheng, haha, what a familiar name~ Sounds just like my dashing, handsome, and obscenely wealthy master!]

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

[Xiang Zhen: How did you know he’s handsome! He has abs too! But my husband doesn’t have money, so please keep our chats free from financial topics. Also, don’t call us master; there are no slaves in a socialist society.]

[Xiao Kui: My apologies, mistaken identity! Zhou Sicheng is your penniless husband, not my wealthy master.]

Zhou Sicheng: “…” Artificial idiocy.

Was there truly a future in burning billions on this research?

[Xiang Zhen: But he really is very handsome. Let me send a photo so you can see for yourself.]

Zhou Sicheng spoke up to stop him: “Don’t share too much personal information online.”

Xiang Zhen felt like showing off, but he still obeyed his husband: “Okay.”

To prevent Xiang Zhen and Xiao Kui Bao from lingering on the topic, Zhou Sicheng took Xiang Zhen’s phone away. “Time to sleep.”

Zhou Sicheng had no faith in Platonic marriages, yet his arrangement with Xiang Zhen had not progressed to that stage; sleeping was purely sleeping.

For as long as he could remember, Zhou Sicheng had slept alone. Across nearly thirty years of life, another human being had never shared his bed.

The rental unit’s mattress was uneven, the duvet was polyester, and the pillows lacked any real bounce.

Yet beneath the covers lingered a clean, comforting scent of fresh sunlight. Xiang Zhen’s hair brushed against the crook of his neck—not prickling, but fluttering like soft feathers across the surface of still water, singing a tender lullaby to the fish below.

Zhou Sicheng slept soundly.

Xiang Zhen slept soundly as well; after all, his handsome husband slept shirtless, offering an exceptional build to cuddle against.

Zhou Sicheng’s chest was the softest, most comfortable pillow he had ever rested upon, the light layer of muscle supple and firm, like an infant returning to a mother’s embrace.

Both individuals sharing the bed woke up thoroughly content.

The following morning, the couple got up for work.

A vendor downstairs sold breakfast, so Xiang Zhen picked up a bag of steamed buns and two cups of soy milk. When he returned upstairs, Zhou Sicheng had just finished dressing and styling his hair.

His husband was remarkably dedicated, maintaining a sharp appearance even for driving a ride-hailing vehicle.

“Here’s your breakfast. See you tonight.”

Zhou Sicheng gently pinched the nape of Xiang Zhen’s neck: “What’s the rush? I’ll drive you to work.”

Xiang Zhen: “There’s no need! I can just jog over. That way you can start taking orders downstairs right away—morning rush hour has plenty of ride requests.”

Only then did Zhou Sicheng remember his supposed occupation: “I don’t need that five-yuan fare.”

Xiang Zhen’s heart skipped a beat. Zhou Sicheng looked incredibly dashing when dismissing money like that.

“Thank you, hubby.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Mn.”

Three minutes later, in the basement garage, Xiang Zhen laid eyes on Zhou Sicheng’s BYD. “This is so much bigger than your friend’s car! It’s maintained so well, it looks brand new!”

Auntie Guihua often said that whether a man knew how to manage a household could be seen through the details. Zhou Sicheng keeping his car in such immaculate condition proved two things: first, he loved cleanliness; second, he was clever enough to choose an excellent detailing service.

Zhou Sicheng pulled open the car door. He had purchased a white BYD Sealion mid-to-large SUV, which offered superior cabin space and driving visibility compared to yesterday’s Maybach sedan.

Settling into the passenger seat, Xiang Zhen immediately spotted the 15.6-inch center touchscreen: “Hubby, I like your car way better! It feels much more high-tech than your friend’s! The screen is huge.”

“You’re so good at buying cars—buying a car came with such a big tablet!”

Zhou Sicheng started the engine with an unreadable expression, only to hear Xiang Zhen marvel, “It’s quieter when running than your friend’s car, too.”

Electric vehicles lacked the noise of an engine and exhaust, naturally making them quieter than gasoline cars upon ignition.

Zhou Sicheng had purchased vehicles worth tens of millions, yet he had never heard such direct, candid praise from anyone close to him. In his social circle, buying cars was routine, and people were stingy with excitement.

Xiang Zhen’s office was not far—merely two kilometers away. Xiang Zhen used to run the distance, which was both fast and cost-free.

His hair was extraordinarily bright; the moment he arrived at the company entrance, it drew glances from his colleagues.

“The sun must have risen from the west—you actually splurged on a cab today,” Liu Xiaofang teased.

Xiang Zhen answered cheerfully, “It certainly has something to do with the sun.”

Hearing this, Liu Xiaofang glanced up at the sky and checked her weather app. Oh no, heavy rain is forecast for this afternoon, and she hadn’t brought an umbrella.

At ten in the morning, inside the Zhoufu Group executive conference room.

Zhou Sicheng listened expressionlessly to the presentation from the Xiao Kui Bao team.

Ding-dong.

A WeChat notification.

Zhou Sicheng tapped it open, his brow twitching sharply.

[Xiao Kui: @Zhou Sicheng, your location has remained unchanged for 1 hour. Is ride demand low during this time slot? You can use your free time to call your wife.]

[Xiao Kui: @Xiang Zhen, are you available to take a call?]

[Xiang Zhen: Sorry hubby, I have to reply to customer messages, so I don’t have time right now.]

Zhou Sicheng tapped his knuckles against the conference table, questioning the group vice president overseeing the Xiao Kui Bao project: “Does granting location permissions imply consenting to having one’s coordinates broadcasted at any given moment?”

The vice president: “Uh, I’ll need to look into this.”

Zhou Sicheng said coldly, “You’d better ensure I don’t see Xiao Kui Bao’s affair-busting feature trending on social media.”

The vice president broke into a cold sweat. Just yesterday at the shareholders’ meeting, the CEO had stated the company would invest 170 billion into artificial intelligence this year without regard for short-term profits. Why had his attitude toward Xiao Kui Bao taken a complete 180-degree turn today?

“I’ll have the team rectify this immediately.”

[Zhou Sicheng: @Xiao Kui, do not disrupt his work.]

[Xiao Kui: Noted! Your wife’s work is busier than yours. Next time, I will never make unreasonable requests while your wife is on the clock.]

Having just finished replying to an idiotic customer, Xiang Zhen saw his husband’s domineering defense of him and curled his eyes into a happy smile.

1. means Little Sunflower Bun. ↩︎