The craziest thing Lin Zhiyi ever did was marry Fu Hanzhou, a man she had met only three times.
The first time they met, he handed her a contract. “I’ll cover your grandfather’s medical bills. After we marry, you can live at my place. You decide when we divorce.”
The second time, he crouched outside the civil affairs bureau and tied her untied shoelace. “The agreement says I’m responsible for your daily life. This counts.”
The third time, she screamed from a nightmare. He rushed in and gathered her, blankets and all, into his arms. “What are you afraid of? I’m here.”
She thought it was just a transaction. But he made sure she ate three meals a day, set her curfew, and wouldn’t let her drink cold coffee when she stayed up writing her thesis. When she had a fever, he was so frantic he smashed a medicine bowl. When a male classmate walked her home, he kissed every one of her fingers, his eyes red.
She fled three hundred kilometers to her hometown. His car got a flat, so he walked for two hours to catch up with her. In the pouring rain, he tore up the contract and dropped to one knee in the mud. “Lin Zhiyi, I don’t want to be the one in charge of you anymore. How about you take charge of me?”
Only later did she understand what he meant by “taking charge”: he was afraid she’d go hungry, wear herself out, or get bullied. He was afraid she wouldn’t love him.
Dad-like boyfriend x archaeology-loving homebody | Marriage first, love later | Extra sweet and steamy | A contract becomes real love
