A Fake Marriage, A Real Match

To increase the birth rate, the country mandated that anyone unmarried past thirty must accept a system-enforced match.

Dylan and I had been married for almost a year, so when I received the call from City Hall, my first instinct was to question it.

Are you sure you have the right person?

The staff member's tone was firm.

"The system shows you're still unmarried."

"This concerns a major life decision. We verify personal information multiple times. There's no mistake."

I hung up, grabbed the marriage certificate from my drawer, and rushed to City Hall.

The staff member saw through it immediately.

"This is a fake certificate. Even the stamp is forged."

Before I left, they stopped me.

"We've already found your matched partner. Two days from now, remember to come on time to complete the marriage registration with him."

The fake marriage certificate was destroyed right before my eyes, reduced to a pile of ashes.

My voice hoarse, I requested to check Dylan's marital status.

The staff member's fingers flew across the keyboard, then turned the screen toward me.

Married.

Spouse: Claire Rivers.

The registration date was eight months agoexactly the same as the date on my fake certificate.

When I accepted that marriage certificate that day, Dylan must have thought I looked like a complete fool, so easily played by him.

A chill swept through my body. I felt dizzy and disoriented.

When I came to my senses, I was already standing at my front door.

Dylan sat on the sofa, his tone as gentle as always.

"Where were you? Why are you back so late?"

My eyes bloodshot, I walked up and slapped him across the face.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"Why her of all people?"

He froze for a moment, then a mysterious smile curved his lips.

He smoothly caught both my hands, trapping my agitated body in his embrace.

He already knew exactly what I was asking about.

"Actually, Claire isn't as terrible as you say."

All the strength drained from my body in an instant.

Such a light, casual sentence, dismissing all the harm I'd suffered.

But when I collapsed crying at my mother's funeral, when Claire's lackeys cornered me and beat me against a wall, Dylan had held my hand and sworn solemnly.

"Your enemies are my enemies. Renee, I'll always be your solid support."

I had truly believed him.

But now he stood before me, and when he spoke Claire's name, his eyes held a tenderness that broke my heart.

I wanted to grab his collar and demand when it had started, to ask what else he'd lied about.

But all I could do was dig my nails into my palms, forcing myself to calm down.

As long as I could find someone to marry within three days, City Hall would withdraw the forced matching.

Apart from Dylan, I had no one else.

I wiped away my tears, hope flickering in my eyes.

"Could you... could you divorce her?"

He let out a muffled laugh and playfully tapped my nose.

"Now's not the time for you to throw a tantrum."

I opened my mouth to say more, but his finger pressed against my lips.

"Claire is pregnant. I need to give her security."

"Don't worry. As soon as the baby is born, we'll divorce immediately."

"Renee, just wait for me a little longer."

I swayed unsteadily, shaking my head through blurred tears, wanting to say there was no more time.

In three days, I would marry someone I'd never met.

But my throat felt stuffed with cotton. I couldn't get a single word out.

Dylan kept talking.

Now that everything was out in the open, he threw caution to the wind.

"Claire is in her third trimester. I don't feel comfortable with her living alone."

"Tomorrow I'll bring her to live here."

With the facade torn away, he became even more brazen.

The next day, he did exactly as he said and brought her over.

Claire's pregnant belly was prominently rounded, her face glowing with obvious joy.

Meeting my gaze, she flashed a provocative smile.

"Renee, which room should I sleep in?"

I stared at her, grinding my teeth.

I would never forget the day she and her mother came to our house. The sun had been shining brightly.

Shortly after, my mother became a pool of blood and flesh on the lawn below.

"Renee, remember to keep your eyes open from now on. Don't follow in Mom's footsteps."

After saying that, she jumped right in front of me.

What followed was an endless nightmare.

And now, Claire stood in my home with her arm around my husband, smiling provocatively at me.

"Renee, the guest room is a bit small. I want to sleep in the master bedroom."

I didn't get any say in the matter.

The moment she finished speaking, Dylan waved his hand and workers swarmed in, throwing all my belongings out of the master bedroom.

Things clattered across the floor.

He helped Claire to the bed, carefully settling her on the edge.

A jade bracelet on the nightstand caught Claire's attention.

Its texture was lustrous, clearly well-treasured.

She picked it up and examined it carefully. The next second, as if her hand had slipped, she let go.

I instinctively ran forward to catch it, but I was still a step too late.

The sound of the jade shattering exploded in my ears.

I lowered my head as tears dropped one by one onto the floor.

Overwhelming rage surged into my head. I swung my arms toward Claire.

"That was the only thing my mother left me!"

But before I could get close to her, Dylan stepped forward, grabbed my arm, and shoved me backward hard.

I fell onto the bracelet fragments, the impact cutting my palms until they bled profusely.

Dylan, who would normally blow gently on even a small cut on my hand for ages, now frowned harshly, his tone as casual as discussing what to eat for dinner.

"It's just a bracelet. Next time I'll buy you a better one."

"Getting worked up over this and upsetting Claire isn't worth it."

I climbed up from the floor, carefully gathering the blood-stained fragments into my clothes.

But a moving worker stumbled, his arm hitting my back, and the fragments scattered across the floor again.

I finally couldn't hold back anymore and collapsed on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

After enduring all this, I developed a high fever that night.

In my confusion, I felt a pair of hands carefully wiping away my sweat, placing a cool, damp cloth on my forehead.

When I was fourteen, I was punished for not cleaning the stairs properly, forced to kneel in the snow in the dead of winter.

My stepmother's expression was vicious.

"We've raised you all these years, and you can't even do this small task properly."

My father deliberately avoided my pleading eyes, pretending not to see.

Halfway through my punishment, a basin of foul, cold water was dumped over me, chilling me to the bone.

Claire stood on the second floor wearing a thick coat, her hands in fuzzy gloves as she held the basin.

"You looked sleepy, so I came to wake you up."

In the end, it was Dylan who brought me home, forcing several bowls of fever medicine down my throat to pull me back from death's door.

He had cradled my swollen, frost-damaged fingers, his eyes brimming with heartache.

In my daze, I opened my eyes to find that the teenage Dylan had transformed into this cold, silent stranger before me.

"You're sick. Don't move around the house these next few days, so you don't pass the illness to Claire."

Tears rolled down my temples, soaking into the pillow.

I couldn't understand how a good person could rot like this.

He stood at the door, meticulously wiping his hands with disinfectant alcohol, afraid of missing a single detail.

Footsteps pattered outside the door. The next second, Claire threw herself into Dylan's arms.

The guest room door clicked shut and locked. No matter how much I knocked and shouted, there was no response.

I was imprisoned, simply for having a fever.

I slid down against the door and sat on the floor, my heart already too numb to ripple.

In the darkness, my phone vibrated. A message popped up.

[Match successful. One day remaining until marriage registration.]

I gave a self-mocking smile, avoiding looking at the matched partner's information like an escapist.

A whole day passed. It seemed everyone had forgotten about me.

My already weak stomach ached from not eating all day.

My throat was dry and scratchy, and even my breath felt hot.

The door opened a crack. Claire stood far away, holding a stale piece of bread.

Like feeding a dog, she tossed the bread in front of me.

Then she raised her phone and took a photo of me.

"Didn't you say you hated homewreckers the most?"

"Now I'm going to make you experience what it's like to be the other woman yourself."

She laughed loudly, then turned to edit a caption and post it online.

She portrayed herself as a pitiful pregnant woman, claiming I had taken advantage of her vulnerability to seduce her husband.

In the photo, I looked like a homeless dogdisheveled and pathetic.

My phone notifications dinged incessantly. Soon someone had dug up my information.

"She looks decent on the outside, but she's so shameless behind closed doors."

"The birth rate is already declining year by year, and she chooses this moment to upset a pregnant woman. Rotten to the core."

"Is it possible her mother gave birth to her the same way? Like mother, like daughter."

I shook my head, whimpering: "No... it's not..."

I wanted to say Claire was the homewrecker who stole someone else's man, that I was the victim.

But then I suddenly remembered that fake marriage certificate burned to ashes.

My hand slowly dropped.

After a long while, I finally spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Let me go. I won't interfere in your business anymore."

Claire let out a cold laugh.

"I refuse."

"I want you to watch the child being born with your own eyes. Watch as I take away everything you care about, piece by piece."

She leaned close to my ear, speaking at a volume only we could hear.

"Want to know when I got pregnant with this child?"

My heart clenched. I instinctively backed away several steps, but Claire grabbed my arm and held it in a death grip.

Her voice continued.

"On the anniversary of your mother's death."

My pupils contracted sharply, overwhelming hatred rising in my heart.

I remembered how Dylan, who had promised to be there that day, suddenly canceled.

"Something urgent came up at work. I can't get away."

"Renee, we'll visit your mother together next year, okay?"

Thinking back now, Dylan's voice had carried subtle breathlessness when he spoke.

I'd just been too grief-stricken that day to notice.

I clenched my fists, my fingertips turning white with pressure.

If I had a knife right now, I would gladly plunge it deep into Claire's belly.

But before I could react, she suddenly clutched her stomach and cried out softly.

Urgent footsteps approached from far to near.

Dylan's trembling hands supported Claire.

"What's wrong?"

"Dylan, my stomach hurts so much..."

The next second, Dylan's sharp gaze shot toward me, anger surging within.

"If anything happens to Claire and the baby, I definitely won't let you off."

He steadily lifted Claire into his arms. Before leaving, he didn't forget to order someone to bring me along.

"If anything goes wrong, you need to be ready to donate at any time!"

The car sped toward the hospital.

I rested my head against the window, Dylan's tireless comforting of Claire filling my ears.

Claire clutched Dylan's clothes tightly, her voice full of panic.

"Dylan, do you think our baby will be okay?"

Dylan held her tightly in his arms, then raised his hand and slapped me.

"Didn't I warn you to stay away from Claire? Why did you provoke her again?"

I lifted my eyelids but didn't argue.

Whatever I said, he wouldn't believe me anyway.

Dylan's words continued.

As the car stopped, doctors who had been waiting rushed over.

I stood outside the crowd, watching coldly.

Claire turned to look at me, then fearfully turned back.

"Dylan, I'm so scared."

"Childbirth can cause massive hemorrhaging. What if there's not enough blood in the blood bank?"

Dylan gripped her hand tightly, following her gaze to me.

I sensed something and tensed.

"She has the same blood type as Claire."

"Take her to draw blood!"

I backed away in fear, flailing my arms wildly, but was immediately restrained.

"Let me go!"

I struggled desperately, but was still pinned firmly in the chair.

The needle pierced my arm. Crimson blood flowed from my body.

"We've already drawn 500cc, Mr. Carter. Should we continue?"

Dylan glanced at me coldly, his voice ice-cold and merciless.

"Continue."

Then he simply turned and left.

I felt the vitality draining from my body, warmth slowly dissipating.

The nurse's pitying voice reached my ears.

"If we keep drawing, she'll die, won't she?"

"Sigh, so young. Poor thing."

I felt my whole body begin to shake uncontrollably. Then my consciousness plunged completely into darkness.

The operating room light stayed on.

An irrepressible panic kept rising in Dylan's heart. He felt something had slipped beyond his control.

He attributed this emotion to worry for Claire.

Medical staff went in and out, making him even more irritable.

After who knows how long, the operating room light finally went out.

The doctor brought the baby out.

"Mother and child are safe. It's a boy."

Dylan carefully took the baby, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

He suddenly remembered Renee's existence.

"Go bring Renee here."

But before long, his subordinate ran over in panic, holding a phone.

"This is bad. Miss Rivers is gone."

"Her phone was on the hospital room floor."

Dylan took the phone. Just then, a text message popped up.

[Forced matching has taken effect. Your marital status has been updated. Congratulations on your marriage!]

But before Dylan could read the message clearly, Claire was wheeled out by a nurse.