Chapter 8: Severing the Red String
Wang Ming: “…”
Until now, I didn’t understand how such disparate people ended up together. But now, they’re a perfect match, at least in terms of fighting prowess, Wang Ming thought, finding the elephant and ant couple much more compatible than he and Ao Chen.
How did I get paired with a celestial being? Wang Ming wondered, scratching his head. I don’t peek, and I don’t steal clothes.
As Wang Ming grumbled internally, the army ants marched orderly into the Red String Office, showcasing exceptional organization and discipline.
Wang Ming: “…”
Ao Chen: “…”
The other ghosts and spirits: “…”
“Oh my God! This is ruining my business!” The Matchmaker burst out of his office, wailing dramatically.
“Are you two really here to get divorced? If not, get out!” The Matchmaker yelled at the elephant and ant couple.
The elephant: “…”
The ant: “…”
“With both families here, we can’t fight,” the elephant awkwardly said to the ant.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” the ant said, even more awkwardly.
The elephant’s family: “…”
The army ants: “…”
Two family representatives exchanged glances, then pulled out their phones to discuss.
Standing behind them, Wang Ming inadvertently saw their screens.
“They’re making restaurant reservations,” Wang Ming whispered to Ao Chen.
Ao Chen: “…”
“Looks like they’re not getting a divorce today,” Wang Ming said, looking quite cheerful.
“What’s so cheerful about that?” Ao Chen unexpectedly responded.
“Didn’t you see? They don’t actually want a divorce, they just got carried away and are now trying to backpedal,” Wang Ming said, leaning closer to Ao Chen to avoid being overheard.
Ao Chen instinctively took a step back, then hesitated, stepping forward slightly, listening to Wang Ming’s gossip.
After Wang Ming shared his insights, the families dispersed, and it was their turn.
“Please come in,” the Matchmaker greeted Wang Ming and Ao Chen enthusiastically.
Wang Ming: “…”
We’re here for a divorce, not tea, Wang Ming thought. The Red String Office’s service concept needs an update.
“Since it’s your first time, before we sever the red string, let’s see where your strings are located,” the Matchmaker said, gesturing them toward the moonlit platform.
Wang Ming followed Ao Chen onto the platform. He noticed Ao Chen’s unfamiliar, even awkward gait. Although the Crown Prince was from the supernatural world, this was his first time here.
Despite his unfamiliarity, Ao Chen remained impassive and composed, his dark eyes barely moving, seemingly unwilling to give the place a second glance.
In contrast, Wang Ming was sightseeing, looking around with great interest. If not for the “no photography” sign, he would have taken selfies for social media.
The platform was empty, save for a small table with a red cloth and several objects: scissors, an X-ACTO knife, a saw, and a set of dentures.
Wang Ming: “…”
Typical supernatural workplace. So spooky, Wang Ming thought.
“Director, what are these for?” Wang Ming inquisitively asked, cleverly avoiding using the nickname he’d given the Matchmaker.
“Young man, you wouldn’t understand. It’s quite complex,”
The Matchmaker seemed energized, eagerly explaining.
“See these scissors?” The Matchmaker picked up the scissors, showing them to Wang Ming. “If a destined couple’s red string is ordinary, I use these, snip!“
Wang Ming: “!”
Wang Ming shivered and hid behind Ao Chen.
Ao Chen: “…”
Ao Chen wanted to move, but remained motionless, his face impassive.
Wang Ming, realizing he’d acted unmanly, emerged and continued.
“The X-ACTO knife must be for couples with stronger bonds?” Wang Ming deduced.
“Impressive! You’re sharp!” The Matchmaker nodded, moved to tears.
“Not really,” Wang Ming modestly replied.
“The saw is the same,” Wang Ming continued. “But these dentures… I don’t understand.”
“If the red string is very thin, we don’t need heavy tools. I use my dentures to bite through it,” the Matchmaker said, holding up the dentures and grinning.
Wang Ming: “…”
I hope our red string is moderately thick, not too thick—just within the X-ACTO knife range, Wang Ming thought. Dentures are unsanitary, the saw is violent, and I, as a grown man, am afraid of scissors. Is that weird?
_________________________
Chapter 9: The Chainsaw
Wang Ming, having justified his fear of scissors, hoped his and Ao Chen’s red string would be manageable with the X-ACTO knife.
“Alright, please come forward,” the Matchmaker said, humming a wedding march.
This Matchmaker has eclectic tastes, Wang Ming thought, as he and Ao Chen walked onto the platform.
“Please stand side by side,” the Matchmaker instructed, positioning them on a small platform.
“Next, will a mystical light shine on us, revealing the red string’s location and thickness?” Wang Ming excitedly described the scene.
Ao Chen: “…”
Before Ao Chen could respond, the Matchmaker brought a spotlight.
Wang Ming: “…”
Is this a knock-off version? Wang Ming wondered.
The Matchmaker, seemingly unconcerned, confidently shone the spotlight on them.
“Turn on the mystical light!” the Matchmaker yelled into the void, calling for someone.
Wang Ming: “…”
That’s not going to work, Wang Ming thought.
A turquoise beam of light shone on them.
Wang Ming: “…”
A ghost! Wang Ming thought.
As the light scanned them, their red string gradually appeared.
Wang Ming: “…”
Ao Chen: “…”
The Matchmaker: “…”
The Matchmaker examined the string, discarded the dentures, and swept away the scissors, X-ACTO knife, and saw with the efficiency of a cleaning expert.
“You two are completely bound!” the Matchmaker yelled, pointing at the incredibly thick red string between them.
Wang Ming: “…”
Ao Chen: “…”
Wang Ming had to adjust his angle to see Ao Chen, the string was so thick.
Wang Ming: “…”
“I don’t think the dentures will work,” Wang Ming said.
The Matchmaker: “…”
“I could chew until I die and still not finish it. Even I’m helpless,” the Matchmaker said.
Wang Ming: “…”
Wang Ming looked at Ao Chen, who remained calm, unlike himself and the Matchmaker.
A former Crown Prince. Such composure, Wang Ming thought. How many bricks would I have to move to achieve that?
“Those tools won’t work,” the Matchmaker sighed. “I’ll have to use my secret weapon!”
Wang Ming: “…”
A powerful weapon, Wang Ming thought.
He resolved to match Ao Chen’s composure, abandoning his usual slouching posture. However, due to the height difference, he still looked small next to Ao Chen.
Wang Ming: “…”
He realized standing tall only emphasized the height difference, so he slouched back.
As Wang Ming considered a posture that was both imposing and didn’t highlight the height difference, a confused worker approached the Matchmaker.
“Director, what’s the secret weapon?” the worker asked hesitantly.
The Matchmaker: “…”
“Newbie, are you?” the Matchmaker asked the flustered worker.
“Yes,” the young worker said, scratching his head. “I’ve only worked here for 250 years.”
Wang Ming: “…”
Is this all a hallucination? Wang Ming wondered. Maybe this place isn’t mysterious at all, it’s a medical facility.
Maybe I was online, said something strange, and a user with a white coat avatar greeted me, “Hello.” Then snap, I was brought here, Wang Ming mentally created a complete scenario, surprised at his own flawless logic.
Wang Ming: “…”
While Wang Ming wrote his script, the newbie worker retrieved the secret weapon from what appeared to be a storage room.
“Ao Chen, do you know what the secret weapon is?” Wang Ming casually asked.
Ao Chen: “…”
Before Ao Chen could answer, the Matchmaker approached Wang Ming.
“Young man, watch your language,” the Matchmaker said fatherly.
“What?” Wang Ming asked.
“Do you think you can call Ao Chen by his name?” the Matchmaker asked, with a “I’m a doctor, and I say hello” expression.
“We’re still married, aren’t we?” Wang Ming argued, returning the fatherly stare, trying to use magic to fight magic.
The Matchmaker: “…”
“It’s fine, either way,” Ao Chen interjected, stopping the Matchmaker.
The Matchmaker was defeated, staring at Ao Chen in confusion.
Is this the same Crown Prince I know? The Matchmaker wondered, convincing himself that Ao Chen was just in awe of his destined partner.
As the Matchmaker and Wang Ming chatted, the newbie worker returned, carrying a large chainsaw.
The Matchmaker: “…”
Ao Chen: “…”
Wang Ming: “…”
Seeing the large tool, Wang Ming instinctively hid behind Ao Chen.
“Oh dear,” the Matchmaker sighed. “The young man’s too green. That’s not it!”
Wang Ming secretly patted his racing heart, about to emerge from behind Ao Chen, when the Matchmaker continued, “My secret weapon is much bigger.”
Wang Ming: “???”
Wang Ming, having just peeked out, was once again hidden behind Ao Chen.
“Maybe you should find it yourself; I’ve looked everywhere,” the newbie worker said innocently.
Wang Ming: “…”
The Matchmaker: “…”
“Young people today are so irresponsible! It’s nothing like our time,” the Matchmaker sighed.
Wang Ming: “…”
He’s really young. Only 250 years old; a newbie in the supernatural world, Wang Ming thought.
“Forget it, I’ll get it myself,” the Matchmaker said, losing patience.
If you’d done this earlier, there wouldn’t be so much trouble, Wang Ming thought.
Seconds later, the Matchmaker emerged carrying a massive chainsaw.
“This is it!” the Matchmaker said, glaring at the newbie. “See? It says ‘Made in Texas.'”