The whole thing actually started on the night I found out I was going to be engaged to Xi Zhou. I packed my bags right then and there, and marched straight into his apartment.

For an entire day, I stood in the middle of the living room like a general commanding a battlefield, directing the movers to haul this and lug that in order to complete my “project of the century.” By evening, when Xi Zhou opened the front door and stepped inside, he froze in place for a solid five seconds before calmly turning around.

“Sorry, wrong apartment.”

“You’ve got the right place! You definitely have the right place!” I panicked, shouting after him.

He silently scanned the living room once, then pointed at the three-meter-tall Christmas tree standing proudly by the window. “What is this?”

“A Christmas tree! Christmas is next month, so I bought it early. It looks gorgeous when you turn the lights on!” I answered with absolute confidence.

He pointed next at a massive framed photo hanging on the wall. “And this? I don’t remember us ever taking a picture together.”

“We hadn’t, so I had AI generate one. Looks pretty realistic, right?”

Xi Zhou fell silent for a few seconds. “Did you prompt the AI to make it look like the two of us are grilling meat with SpongeBob at the bottom of the ocean?”

I nodded firmly. “Yup! It’s romantic!”

Xi Zhou took a deep breath, fighting off a brewing migraine as he stepped further inside. But after passing a glowing multi-colored fish tank, a cheetah-print rug, and a hamburger-shaped sofa… I could practically see his oxygen levels dropping. The breaking point came when we went upstairs, and he saw a giant, bright red Chinese character for “Double Happiness” plastered across his bedroom door. He finally snapped:

“Xia Haowan!”

“Present! This brings good luck, you know!” I beamed.

“If it brings you so much happiness, you can live in it yourself,” he replied coldly.

“Huh? You’re not sleeping with me?”

Xi Zhou looked at me as if deciding whether to call a psychiatric hospital. “We aren’t close enough to share a bed.”

“We’ll be sleeping together sooner or later!” I argued, waddling along right behind him.

“Don’t follow me!”

The bedroom door slammed shut in my face, leaving me standing there with a pout and my newly established colorful empire.

Honestly, it’s not like I wanted to be this shameless. But who told me I was born with such “high needs”?!

Ever since I was little, I’ve been a clingy person: clinging to my parents as a kid, clinging to my friends as I grew up. Luckily, everyone always spoiled this needy streak of mine, especially Qingquan, my ride-or-die best friend. If we both hadn’t happened to like guys, I probably would have just married her and called it a day.

Of course, life never goes according to plan when a third wheel enters the picture: Shang Chi, the heir of the Shang family.

The guy was shameless enough to compete with me for Qingquan’s attention at every turn. Things hit a peak one night when Qingquan didn’t answer my texts. Worried sick, I drove all the way to her place, only to have Shang Chi open the door looking like a gigolo fresh off a night shift, deliberately leaving hickeys on his neck:

“Qingquan is too embarrassed to see you right now. Oh, and don’t call anymore, minors shouldn’t listen in on this kind of adult conversation.”

I kicked him in the shin and stormed off in a rage. Shang Chi yelled after me from behind: “Xia Haowan! Why don’t you go find yourself a boyfriend or something?! Give my wife back! I’m calling my bros to deal with you!”

Back then, I looked down on him with absolute contempt. Until… he actually introduced me to his bros. And that bro happened to be Xi Zhou.

The first time I met Xi Zhou, I was completely taken down by his icy, snow-mountain aura. My heart went haywire, and my brain started spinning a mile a minute: How do I make this man mine?

As luck would have it, my parents brought up the idea of a political marriage alliance with the Xi family. I nodded so fast I looked like a pecking chicken. I thought moving in together meant we’d be glued to each other 24/7, but I was wrong. Xi Zhou was a certified workaholic.

I’d get off work, go home, and wait from 7:00 to 10:00 PM, while he remained completely missing in action. I started spamming his WeChat:

Me: When are you coming back? I bought fried chicken!

Me: Today I saw a stray cat that was super timid. (Attached 10 cat photos).

Half an hour later…

Xi Zhou: Working overtime. Not eating. Ugly.

I blew a fuse: “The cat is obviously adorable!”

Xi Zhou maintained his gold-standard thriftiness with words. Fuming, I turned to message Qingquan, only for Shang Chi to jump in and block me: “Why are you texting my wife? Don’t you have a husband of your own?”

With nowhere to vent my frustration, I went back to harassing my cold-hearted fiancé:

“Shang Chi is so annoying! Why doesn’t he have to work overtime while you do? Stop hanging out with him! Seriously, when are you coming back? (Attached a crying puppy GIF)“

A long while later, the screen lit up with a single line: “Expected around 10.”

So, once again, I sat back down to wait. Bored and lonely, but my golden rule remained crystal clear: Once you cling, you cling all the way!