Yi Youxia Won Twelve Rounds in a Row—Unbelievable!*

"Cheater!" he slurred, accusing her while drunk.

"The dice were in your hands half the time—how could I rig it? Call it bad luck in love, good luck in gambling!" Yi Youxia giggled. She had always been the loser at gambling, yet today, fortune favored her absurdly.

Rong Zhenye refused to accept it. "Again." He had to win this time.

Yi Youxia’s thick lashes fluttered. "Fine, last round. Let’s go big. Today, I got pranked, and I’m pissed. Marriage? Big deal—I can get married too. If I win this, you register with me."

"No problem."

He agreed without hesitation. Alcohol had taken over his brain, leaving only one thought: beat Yi Youxia once. His dictionary had never contained the word "lose."

"Generous—I like you!" Yi Youxia slapped the table, pushing the dice cup toward him. "You roll. I call small!"

"I call big!" Rong Zhenye shook the cup vigorously before flipping it open.

One, two, three—small.

"HAHAHA!" Yi Youxia laughed so hard she nearly fell off her stool, triumphant. In her twenty-one years of life, she had never felt this exhilarated.

Rong Zhenye, meanwhile, was utterly defeated—something he hadn’t experienced in twenty-six years.

But a bet’s a bet.

He grabbed Yi Youxia’s hand. "Let’s go. Get your ID—we’re heading to the civil affairs bureau."

---

Time snapped back to the present.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting golden patterns on the floor.

The room was silent except for the heavy, rapid breathing of its occupants.

Standing by the window, the two silently stared at each other, their minds still foggy from alcohol. They couldn’t recall how they ended up at the civil affairs bureau, how they registered, or how they even consummated the marriage. But one thing was certain—this wasn’t some prank show. The red marriage certificate in their hands was real, legally binding.

In short, they weren’t just husband and wife on paper—they were very much married in reality.

Rong Zhenye pondered how to end this absurd marriage. Rejecting women? He had mastered that art. But divorcing a wife? That was uncharted territory.

Still, he decided—whatever conditions Yi Youxia set, as long as they weren’t outrageous, he’d agree. After all, they had slept together, and…

His gaze fell on the stained bedsheets. Yi Youxia flushed crimson and yanked the blanket over herself.

She had preserved her chastity for years, waiting to give herself fully to Xia Yihan. Now, Xia Yihan was gone—and so was her first time.

Life was cruel. Hell and heaven could switch places overnight.

"Right, let’s get divorced at the civil affairs bureau," she said, suppressing all her bitterness.

What was done was done. Crying wouldn’t help—she had to deal with the aftermath.

Rong Zhenye was slightly taken aback by her calmness. No demands, no extortion—just straightforward acceptance. He found himself oddly impressed.

Yi Youxia checked her watch, walked to the mirror, and tied her hair into a simple ponytail. "It’s already 10:30. The bureau closes at 12—we only have an hour and a half. My place is far; we’ll need a taxi. Fifty-fifty on the fare."

Her words were direct, efficient, and ruthless. A rare softness flickered across Rong Zhenye’s face.

They stepped out of the elevator, Yi Youxia walking slightly behind, her steps hesitant. Her legs throbbed faintly—no surprise, considering how thoroughly this man had "claimed" her last night, even in her drunken state.

Rong Zhenye noticed her discomfort and slowed his pace.

Just as they reached the apartment complex’s entrance, Yang Xiaorui emerged from a BMW—here specifically to start a fight. Yesterday, Xia Yihan had been present, restraining her. Today, she would tear Yi Youxia apart without mercy.