The first time he entered the detention center, Du Dawei was so cold he couldn't sleep all night. His eyes were listless, with deep dark circles, and his face was pale.
Detention centers were nothing like internet cafes—at least cafes had internet access for chatting and gaming, while detention centers offered no entertainment at all. Detainees weren't allowed to bring their phones inside, and Du Dawei's had been confiscated upon entry, to be returned only upon his release.
After breakfast, estimating that his cousin would already be at work, he applied to use the detention center's dedicated phone to call his cousin, Du Dazhi.
The call was limited to ten minutes. Apart from the first minute spent embellishing the miseries of his current life, the remaining nine were filled with his cousin's furious scolding.
Du Dazhi berated him relentlessly, accusing him of wasting his bachelor's degree by not striving to become a civil servant while young, not working to marry some official's daughter to climb the social ladder, and not even trying to sweet-talk some wealthy heiress. Instead, he'd chosen to degrade himself by marrying such an ordinary girl—this predicament was entirely his own fault! He chastised him for being blinded by beauty, for his shortsightedness, and warned him that a pretty face couldn't put food on the table.
Du Dawei desperately wanted to retort: Given my family background and personal conditions—no money, average looks, hepatitis B, mediocre education, and an ordinary job—what official's daughter or wealthy beauty would even glance my way? The "nice guy" image meant nothing to them; I'm just one of many sycophants around them. Wouldn't they choose the best option available?!
He longed to say that, from college until now, he'd been trying for seven years. After countless rejections from the daughters of officials and wealthy families, he'd come to clearly understand what kind of marriage prospect he could realistically attain. It had taken great effort to find someone like Mu Yuting—an obedient, simple-minded only child with an even more gullible mother, and crucially, a family with decent financial standing.
He was already over 27, soon to be 28. For a short, poor, unattractive underachiever with no house, car, or savings, Mu Yuting was the best he could get—the ceiling he'd strained to reach through sheer cunning.
As the saying goes, "A poor man can't afford to be choosy about a wife." He'd already maximized his "selectivity" within his means. If he wanted to change wives, he'd have to wait until middle age when he'd made his fortune—only then would he have the freedom to "choose."
But he couldn't voice these thoughts, afraid his cousin would accuse him of lacking ambition and effort, and refuse to help him in the future. He could only endure, meekly waiting for the scolding to end and for his cousin to bail him out.
After venting his anger, his cousin gave him some reassurance, telling him to wait for news. He said he'd call Mu Yuting right away and get him out soon.
Du Dawei paced back and forth excitedly, filled with anticipation for regained freedom, like the turtle in Super Mario about to sprout wings and fly.
An hour later, his cousin drove straight to the detention center. Under Du Dawei's euphoric gaze, he launched into another round of harsh criticism and forced him to sign an agreement.
A reconciliation agreement. To Du Dawei, it was an agreement of "ceding territory and paying indemnities."
He said, "I don't want to sign. I'm willing to apologize and pay compensation, but I don't want to call off the marriage." Once the engagement was broken, how could he get his hands on her family's property and money? How could he make up for his lost dignity by tormenting Mu Yuting? A whole year of effort would go to waste!
Du Dazhi, unaware of Du Dawei's thoughts, angrily kicked him hard with his leather shoe: "So stubborn! Is Mu Yuting some kind of seductress? You still can't let her go at this point? If you can't write the agreement properly, just stay in the detention center. I won't bother with you anymore! Disgraceful fool!"
Du Dawei lowered his head and remained silent. He felt that "the world is drunk, while I alone am sober."
His family urged him to find a wealthy or influential wife to secure both career and fortune; his so-called friends advised him to get a girl pregnant to skip the bride price and force marriage; his colleagues flattered him insincerely while secretly mocking him as a nepotism hire and making things difficult for him.
Which of these did he not know? It's just that talking is easy, but doing—that's as difficult as climbing to the sky.
He simply couldn't accept it: Who doesn't want to be a good person? But I can only be selfish. Because I'm too poor, I just want a better life. I'm not wrong! The fault lies with my parents—why did they have to give birth to and raise me despite being so poor, making me suffer like this? The fault lies with this world—why can't education change one's fate? The rich remain rich, while my family struggles perpetually on the poverty line, forever poor!
Du Dazhi interrupted Du Dawei's self-pitying train of thought.
"If you finish writing the agreement before I get off work this afternoon, call me using the detention center's phone, and I'll come pick it up after work. If you don't write it, don't ever ask me for help again." Du Dazhi was also deeply disappointed. His cousin Du Dawei was the only college graduate in three generations of their family, the hope of the Du clan. Who would have thought that his outstanding cousin would become worthless mud stuck to a wall because of a romantic entanglement.
Many men tend to blame their failures on women: if a man's career fails, it's because his wife's beauty brought misfortune or her family offered no support; if a man is slovenly and down-and-out, it's because his wife isn't virtuous enough to manage the household properly... Du Dazhi was no exception. With this ridiculous mindset, he secretly made a decision: he absolutely must not let his cousin marry this woman!
After his cousin left, Du Dawei remained silent for a long time but eventually picked up a pen and wrote a settlement agreement. He clearly outlined the apology and compensation. As a Chinese literature graduate, his wording was refined and his apology sincere, attributing the reason for the altercation to—impulsiveness out of love. The compensation amount was written as 20,000, as demanded by his cousin, but he made no mention of calling off the engagement.
In the afternoon, he applied to use the detention center's dedicated phone to call his cousin Du Dazhi, informing him that he had finished writing the "settlement agreement."
After work, Du Dazhi hurried over. Upon seeing the love declaration version of the "settlement agreement," he flew into a rage. He finally lost control and slapped his cousin hard across the face.
"Mu Yuting is determined to call off the engagement! Who are you writing this confession for? Are you out of your mind, huh? Let me wake you up!"
"No hitting allowed," the detention center officer immediately pulled Du Dazhi away.
A red handprint quickly appeared on Du Dawei's face. He stood there covering his cheek, neither moving nor dodging.
"It's fine. My cousin means well; he didn't hit me. Don't misunderstand," Du Dawei hurriedly explained.
The two officers exchanged glances. If they considered it a "family matter" not requiring intervention, what could they do? They had no choice but to release Du Dazhi. Fortunately, Du Dazhi didn't attempt to hit him again.
"Cousin, I can apologize, pay compensation, and sign a settlement agreement, but I cannot call off the engagement."
"I can't control you, and I don't intend to try anymore!" Du Dazhi was so furious he turned to leave immediately.
"Brother!" Du Dawei cried out, dramatically dropping to his knees. "You're like a real older brother to me. Only you can help me. I'll listen to you in everything else, just not calling off the engagement."
He knew kneeling was a useful weapon. In the face of gain, personal pride meant nothing. A moment of humiliation could always be compensated for elsewhere later.
In her past life, Mu Yuting had seen Du Dawei kneel before Mu's Mother, pretending to be deeply devoted to avoid breaking off the engagement. He had also knelt with exaggerated romance to deceive her into getting pregnant and having a child. Once he had squeezed out all the benefits, he immediately turned hostile, even kicking them down hard.
Kneeling to show sincerity was such a cheap and efficient method. All it took was a pair of knees, and it worked every time. Truly, there was a fortune beneath those knees.
Du Dazhi stopped and turned back, clearly hesitating. Though his words were firm—"The engagement must be called off, no room for discussion"—his attitude had already softened.
Du Dawei crawled on his knees to Du Dazhi's side, clutching his leg, and said with a sob, "Brother, help me one more time, just this once."
Du Dazhi sighed deeply, his frown deepening into creases.
Mu Yuting received the second call from Du Dazhi at six in the evening.
She was having dinner at the time. Her mother had made carrot and corn pork rib soup—fragrant, light yet flavorful, visually appealing, nutritious, and good for her recovery.
Du Dazhi no longer sounded as arrogant as he had that morning; his voice was heavy with exhaustion. He got straight to the point: "What if we don’t call off the engagement?"
Mu Yuting spat out a piece of rib and answered his question with one of her own: "What do you think?!"
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