PTGWD Extra 1: Legal

[Extra Story 1: About marrage]

Although the hospital officially allowed a two-hour lunch break, Fang Xingzhou had taken on too many extra patients in the morning. A crowd still clogged the hallway outside his office, forcing him to keep seeing them until well past 12:30. He hadn’t even had time to eat, only managing to swap his white coat for a shirt—now slightly stained with iodine—before rushing to the parking lot.

The moment he opened the car door, two anxiously waiting faces greeted him.

Lu Jianchuan was dressed in a custom-tailored suit, hair meticulously styled, wearing the family’s most expensive watch and a hint of cologne. He looked like he’d stepped out of a high-fashion magazine, sitting behind the wheel with an intensity that bordered on absurd.

Fang Yanzhou, meanwhile, had been stuffed into a tiny matching suit, complete with a red bowtie and a fresh rose tucked into the pocket. Since he lacked a proper “body,” the suit was padded with cotton, his tentacles wriggling inside to maintain shape. He sat stiffly in the backseat, doing his best imitation of a prim little gentleman.

Fang Xingzhou froze, suddenly hyperaware of his own disheveled state—he’d forgotten the suit jacket he’d prepared, leaving him in just the iodine-spotted shirt. Clearing his throat, he wiped at the stain.

“I’ll go back and grab—”

WHOOSH!

A tentacle yanked him inside, buckling his seatbelt before he could blink.

The engine roared to life, tires screeching as they launched forward.

Lu Jianchuan, uncharacteristically tense, launched into a rapid-fire explanation:

“Sweetheart, do you have any idea how anxious we’ve been? The second you left, we started getting ready—arrived at the hospital at 10 AM, waiting and waiting, until 11, then 12, then 12:30—”

Fang Xingzhou raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, it was just—”

Fang Yanzhou, ever the little co-conspirator, chimed in: “Papa’s LATEEEE!!”

Fang Xingzhou leaned over to scoop him up, pressing a kiss to the top of his squishy head. “My bad.”

Lu Jianchuan, now in full mission mode, laid out the plan: “The registry opens at 1:30 pm. We have ten minutes to get to the photo studio, twenty to take pictures, another ten to drive to the office, and we must queue early to secure a slot between 1:30 and 1:45. That leaves exactly fifteen minutes to get you back for your 2 pm shift.”

Guilt prickled Fang Xingzhou’s conscience. “Maybe I should’ve taken an extra hour off—”

Fang Yanzhou blurted: “Daddy has surgery at 2:30!”

“…Do I?” Fang Xingzhou clapped a hand over his mouth. “I don’t recall.”

Yanzhou: “Mmph! Mmph mmph!”

Lu Jianchuan shot him a wounded look and floored the accelerator.

By the time they screeched to a halt outside the photo studio, the tires were literally smoking. Fang Xingzhou barely had time to unbuckle before a tentacle hauled him out.

“My jacket—”

“Packed ahead!” Lu Jianchuan brandished a matching bespoke suit with one appendage while clutching Xianzhou with another. “Tangtang predicted you’d forget!”

They materialized inside the studio like a well-dressed tornado. The receptionist, mid-bite of her stir-fried pork, gaped as a slice of meat plopped back into her lunchbox.

“Where did you—?”

Lu Jianchuan flashed an elegant smile, presenting the receptionist with a box of wedding candies while handing over their reservation slip.

“Good afternoon,” he said courteously. “We’ll need the finalized wedding photos in twenty minutes—it’s quite tight, so please do ask the photographer to spare no effort for us.”

With that, he slid over a thick red envelope—one that practically radiated generosity.

The receptionist took it, testing its weight between her fingers, and her eyes immediately lit up. She abandoned her half-eaten lunch right then and there, springing into action with renewed vigor. “Boss! Priority clients!” she shouted.

What followed was a whirlwind of controlled chaos. Fang Xingzhou found himself being dressed and undressed like a life-sized doll—stripped out of his shirt, wrestled into the custom-tailored suit, and even spritzed with matching cologne, ensuring that they exuded the unmistakable aura of a couple down to the finest detail.

The well-tipped photographer worked wonders. Ten minutes for the shots, five for retouching, and another five to print—a seamless workflow that left them with a stack of perfectly cropped ID photos in record time.

Back in the car, Lu Jianchuan sat motionless for a long moment, staring at the small photos in his hands. His tentacles trembled subtly, and he took several deep, steadying breaths.

“Deer?” Fang Xingzhou ventured.

In response, Lu Jianchuan turned and caught his lips in a sudden, possessive kiss, tongue slipping past with shameless enthusiasm—uncaring of their jellyfish child watching from the backseat.

When they finally parted, he pressed their foreheads together, voice thick with emotion. “Sweetheart… you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this day.”

Gunning the engine, he sped toward their next destination—yet even then, he couldn’t resist pressing, “You are excited too, right? Zhouzhou, I know you’ve been looking forward to this just as much!”

Fang Xingzhou chose his words carefully. “…It’s just a piece of paper. Legally speaking, we’ve already been the closest of family, raising a child together long before this…”

A single eye materialized on Lu Jianchuan’s cheek, boring into him with unnerving intensity.

Fang Xingzhou swiftly corrected course. “Of course.”

Lu Jianchuan said mournfully, “Honey, do you know how Tangtang came to be?”

Fang Xingzhou glanced at Fang Yanzhou in the backseat—currently sucking on his pacifier while admiring the freshly printed wedding photos—and tactically veered away from inappropriate-for-children details. “I know. You devoured that creature and gained the ability to reproduce, then—”

“No,” Lu Jianchuan interrupted. “It was because of a conversation we had two years ago.”

Fang Xingzhou: “Hm?”

Lu Jianchuan’s voice grew wistful. “I remember it clearly. It was a sunny Sunday. We went to the botanical garden to see the cherry blossoms. Under that sea of pink petals, a young couple was taking wedding photos. I asked you, ‘Sweetheart, would you ever want to get married?’ And you said… ‘I don’t think marriage is a must. As long as I’m with the person I love, that’s enough.'”

He recounted every word with painstaking precision, and Fang Xingzhou —after sifting through the dusty corners of his memory—found the scene.

He frowned, not understanding what this had to do with procreation.

Lu Jianchuan pressed on. “I was heartbroken. I went back, sought out my handler, and asked him about human marriage and family structures. He told me most people solidify their bonds by creating new life—a child to tie them together forever—”

Fang Xingzhou stared.

“…And you believed him?” He sounded faintly incredulous. “So you decided to go ahead and make a baby? Just like that?”

Lu Jianchuan nodded. “Of course. TV dramas say the same thing.”

Fang Xingzhou: “……”

So everything—the chaos, the fear, the miraculous little being now humming in the backseat—had stemmed from one offhand conversation on a lazy weekend.

Like the faintest flap of a butterfly’s wings, quietly spiraling into a hurricane that would reshape their lives two years later.

Something warm and dizzying swelled in Fang Xingzhou’s chest.

His gaze drifted back to Tangtang, and a wild, whimsical thought struck him—

Was it possible? That Tangtang, the god of fate himself, had somehow chosen them as his parents long before they ever knew him?

But in the end, it didn’t matter.

A helpless laugh slipped out as he tangled his fingers with Lu Jianchuan’s restless tentacle. “What I meant back then was that I wanted to stay with you—no labels needed. At the time, I only knew you as the heir to the Lu family. I couldn’t imagine you ever being allowed to marry a man.”

Lu Jianchuan blinked, processing this.

“…Really?” He sounded dazed.

“Mm. Think harder about the words I actually used.”

“But—” His brow furrowed. “You should’ve gasped with joy and said, ‘Yes! Let’s get married right now!’ That’s what the female lead always does in dramas.”

Fang Xingzhou sighed. “How many times have I told you? Less TV, more books. And stop using dramas as your human-behavior manual—”

The jellyfish bristled. “TV shows are acted by humans! That counts!”

Fang Xingzhou deadpanned: “The key word is acted, not human.”

Lu Jianchuan stewed on this… then somehow spiraled into wounded melancholy. “I was trying to understand humans properly. But you’re always at the hospital, leaving me alone at home with nowhere to go. When you first kept me in a fishbowl by your bed, at least you stayed home with me all day…”

“…” Fang Xingzhou sensed the conversation going to a place not good.

A master of family diplomacy, he promptly pressed an apologetic kiss to the sulking tentacle. “You’re right. It’s my fault, Deer”

The extra eyeball on Lu Jianchuan’s cheek studied him a moment… then vanished as his mood abruptly brightened.

“Never mind,” he chirped, “we’re getting married today! We’ll be official now!”

 

 

Fang Xingzhou laughed. “Right, you’re the most law-abiding jellyfish in existence—have you figured out how to change your gender yet?”

That morning before leaving, Fang Xingzhou had reminded Lu Jianchuan that the current marriage system only recognized heterosexual unions. They might run into some problems, so it’d be wise to contact Inspector Li for assistance in advance.

Lu Jianchuan parked outside the Civil Affairs Bureau.

He scooped up Fang Yanzhou, eyes gleaming as he pinched his son’s cheek. “A tiny issue like this? Baby and I have it handled. Isn’t that right, Tangtang?”

Fang Yanzhou clenched his tiny fists, practically vibrating with excitement. “Mm!”

The little family of three stepped out of the car, striding eagerly toward the bureau. In the three-minute walk there, Lu Jianchuan’s meticulously slicked-back hair grew into flowing tresses, his adam’s apple seamlessly vanishing—yet he still wore a men’s tailored suit, towered over Fang Xingzhou by a full head, and remained visibly, undeniably male at a glance.

Fang Xingzhou eyed the two of them skeptically. “…Maybe I should just call Inspector Li now?”

Lu Jianchuan laced their fingers together. “No need,” he declared with absolute confidence.

Fang watched him take a queue ticket—miraculously, the first slot of the afternoon.

After twenty minutes of waiting in the lobby, the bureau officially opened for business. They sprinted to the counter like contestants in an obstacle-free marriage race, sliding their meticulously prepared documents across the desk.

Lu Jianchuan, ears flushed with excitement: “Hello, we’re here to get married.”

Fang Yanzhou, fist-pumping: “Married!”

The clerk looked up.

Fang Xingzhou braced himself.

A beat of silence. The woman’s gaze swept over them, lingering briefly on Lu Jianchuan’s face—

Then, against all odds, the universe blessed them again.

She merely smiled, utterly unfazed by the apparent gender discrepancy, and picked up their IDs. “Congratulations! May you share a century of happiness together. One moment, please.”

Fang Xingzhou shot his fiancé a disbelieving glance—because in what world did a six-foot-three man in a suit as female?!

Lu Jianchuan leaned in to whisper, “Li Xuan already temporarily switched my registered sex to ‘female’ in the system. Relax!”
Fang Yanzhou nodded solemnly. “Relax!”

By the time this reassurance was issued, the clerk’s fingers were already flying across the keyboard. No typos, no hiccups—just flawless bureaucratic execution. Less than two minutes later, the printer spat out two crisp marriage certificates with a rhythmic click-clack.

Thunk. The clerk stamped them with finality before beaming at the newlyweds. “Such a dashing couple! May your love last a lifetime.”

Fang Xingzhou: “……”

He accepted the documents, still dazed.

…That was it?

Meanwhile, Lu Jianchuan was trembling so hard he’d momentarily lost speech. Only Fang Yanzhou remained composed, politely informing the clerk, “Thank you, pretty lady! You’ll get even prettier!”—which sent her into delighted giggles.

The whole procedure was even quicker than expected. Just five minutes later, they walked out of the Civil Affairs Bureau, standing on the sidewalk—the clock barely reading 1:35 PM.

Lu Jianchuan lifted the marriage certificate up to the sun, squinting as he admired it.

His eyes grew redder by the second.

“Married,” he murmured, voice breaking. “…Really.”

Fang Xingzhou smiled. “Really. Let’s get in the car first, yeah?”

But Lu Jianchuan’s hands were trembling too hard to let go, fingers tangling desperately with his husband’s. “Honey. Are you feeling breathless too? I can’t breathe—quick, kiss me, share some oxygen with me—come on, hurry—!”

Fang Xingzhou couldn’t help it—he laughed for two full minutes.

He put the certificate away, then right there on the sidewalk, pulled his partner into a kiss so passionate it turned heads. People gathered in a circle—some hooting, some clapping—cheering and congratulating them on their marriag

Little Fang Yanzhou hopped around, handing out wedding candies to every onlooker, thanking them for watching his dads kiss.

From 1:37 to 1:42 PM, they remained locked in their passionate kiss—finally pulling apart with a wet, embarrassing pop, strands of saliva still connecting their lips.

Fang Xingzhou grinned breathlessly. “I’m going to be late for work.”

Lu Jianchuan—face flushed pink, pupils blown wide—nodded solemnly. “I’ll… drive you.”

They picked up Fang Yanzhou, bought a sesame flatbread from a roadside stall, and got back in the car—just like any ordinary afternoon in the past decade, as if they had just casually picked up a certificate on the way.

Lu Jianchuan spent the entire drive vibrating with suppressed euphoria—somehow maintaining a facade of composure—until he dropped Fang Xingzhou off at the hospital entrance. Only once his husband had completely disappeared from view did the dam finally break.

Then, completely unrestrained, he whipped out the marriage certificate and kissed the photo like mad. When he was done, he scooped up his son and smothered his little face in kisses with all ten of his tentacles, leaving prints everywhere.

“MARRIED!” He cackled like mad, shaking Fang Yanzhou in his arms. “I’M MARRIED, TANGTANG!! DO YOU SEE THIS? MARRIED!!!”

And so, the very first impression Fang Yanzhou ever had of “marriage”… was the taste of his dad’s spit.

…

Fang Xingzhou performed a difficult surgery that afternoon—from 2:30 p.m. all the way until 8:00 p.m. It took everything out of him just to get off work.

Exhausted, he walked out of the hospital with his colleagues, when suddenly Qin Hongbo beside him shouted, “Professor! Look up!”

Fang Xingzhou blinked, confused, then followed the line of sight upward.

Against the deep blue night sky, hundreds of drones glimmered with dazzling lights, forming one loud and tacky line across the city skyline:

“WE GOT MARRIED TODAY! LU JIANCHUAN ❤️ FANG XINGZHOU”

Gasps erupted all around him as people whipped out their phones to take photos, then—like it was rehearsed—everyone turned their eyes to the just-off-duty Dr. Fang.

Fang Xingzhou: “……”

For the first time ever, he fled in panic right outside his own hospital—only to spin around and crash straight into a very familiar chest.

Lu Jianchuan wrapped his left arm around his just-off-work wife, cradled their pacifier-chewing baby in his right, and wore a grin wider than the moon. With every one of Fang Xingzhou’s colleagues watching in awe, he walked tall and proud toward the luxury car by the curb.

“Let’s go home for our honeymoon, Zhouzhou.”