Along the way, the man who called himself Ethan was silent, only telling him where to turn when they came to an intersection. They passed by lavishly decorated casinos, hotels, strip clubs, and small churches with unique styles. After nearly two hours of walking, the dazzling neon lights gradually faded, the streetlights dimmed, and large areas of gray-brick factories and concrete warehouses appeared on both sides of the road. The windows were dark, which was in sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle of the main street—it looked like an industrial area.
Wen Di’s legs felt a little sore, so he found a fire hydrant on the side of the road and sat down. He looked around; two streetlights were broken, making it impossible to clearly read the factory signs. The only thing he was certain of was that there were no hotels nearby. He looked at the man suspiciously: “Are you sure you’re going the right way?”
The man’s silence made him panic.
“What?! Don’t tell me you don’t know the way?!” A huge wave of sadness surged from the depths of his heart. The tiny sliver of hope he had was shattered just like that—of course, the world had something against him. “And you dare claim you have photographic memory!”
“I might have misread the numbers on a street,” the man finally admitted, “and turned at the wrong intersection.”
A flood of miserable memories flashed before Wen Di’s eyes like a revolving lantern: he had just been banished to become a mistress by his first love of five years, all of his assets were robbed, and now, when a man had finally offered to compensate him, the man got lost!
He glared fiercely at the man. How could he have been so drunk that he trusted a stranger? He didn’t even know the man’s real name!
Looking at the desolate surroundings, Wen Di suddenly broke out in goosebumps. He stared warily at the man, “You’re not tricking me into coming here to kill me and dump the body, are you? I’m telling you, I don’t have any money left! I used everything I had to save you! There has to be some bottom line in being human!”
The man couldn’t be bothered to prove his innocence. He thought for a moment and then said something that made Wen Di despair: “This place is pretty deserted at night. I don’t know if we’ll run into the same situation as before. We should probably head back to Las Vegas Boulevard. That’s the city center, it’s safer, and at least we can find somewhere to rest.”
Head. Back. The. Same. Way.
Wen Di wanted to dig a hole in the ground and sleep there forever.
“Let’s go,” the man said.
Wen Di was filled with grief and anger. If not for the need to conserve energy, he would have loved to grind the man into pulp.
“Wait a minute,” he slowly stood up, “let me vent a little, or else I’ll just want to die.”
The man looked at him cautiously: “What are you going to do?”
Wen Di slowly walked over to the entrance of a factory. The white exterior wall looked ghastly in the moonlight, and inside was dead silent. He cupped both hands around his mouth, took a deep breath, and yelled into the emptiness: “He Wenxuan, you scoundrel, villain, leftover-eating bug, despicable, arrogant, shallow, gutless, minion who relies on power to oppress others; a self-pitying, servile, whitewashed scoundrel, a filthy bastard; beggar, coward, bastard, you worthless dog whose conscience is smaller than earwax! Just looking at you makes my eyes bleed pus, even spitting on you would sully my spit!”
Beautiful words flowed like the droplets of a waterfall, cascading down in an unending torrent.
The man’s brows furrowed, and for the first time, his calm expression showed a ripple of disturbance, as if Wen Di had just smeared vomit across his face.
Wen Di continued to curse for three minutes straight, moving from his ex-boyfriend to the robbers, from his ex-boyfriend’s ancestors to the heavens, until his voice turned hoarse. Only then did he stop to catch his breath.
The man genuinely questioned, “You study literature, how can you curse so viciously?”
Wen Di glared at him. “Isn’t literature meant to expand your vocabulary for cursing people?”
The man ignored that outrageous statement and sighed, “Alright ba, are you done cursing?”
“More or less,” Wen Di said, “do you want to say a few words?”
The man looked at him like he was crazy. “What for?”
“Don’t you have any frustrations? We were just robbed! Try shouting—it’ll make you feel better,” Wen Di tugged on his arm. “There’s no one around here, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Come on, come on.”
The man shook his head. They had been walking for two hours, and this guy still wasn’t thinking straight? Was alcohol metabolized so slowly?
“I can see you keep to yourself most of the time,” Wen Di gave him a hearty slap on the back. “Shout it out! Even if someone hears, who here would know who you are?”
The man pulled his arm away and hesitated for a moment before cupping his hands to his mouth. Wen Di nodded approvingly, “Just like that.”
Then the other person shouted in English: “Sorry, if anyone heard what was just said, don’t mind it. This guy just got dumped by a man, and he’s not in his right mind!”
Wen Di immediately covered the man’s mouth, fuming with rage. “What the hell are you talking about?!”
The man looked at him with lowered eyes, and when he spoke again, his voice had returned to its usual volume, muffled under Wen Di’s hand, barely audible: “Did I summarize it wrong?”
Realizing that the entire conversation between him and He Wenxuan had been overheard by the other, Wen Di was embarrassed and furious: “Who got dumped? I was the one who dumped him, okay?!”
The man showed no reaction, while Wen Di felt like he was about to crush his teeth. If it weren’t for the seven hundred dollars—and the fact that he didn’t know the way back, and the man looked strong, obviously a fight would be a losing battle—he would’ve definitely fought him to the death.
What kind of vision does he have to pick out the most annoying one from a bar full of gays!
The man grabbed Wen Di’s wrist and pulled his hand down. “Can we go now?”
Wen Di was still glaring at him, seemingly so angry that his throat was blocked. He simply held Wen Di’s hand and started walking toward the main street. Wen Di was so confused with anger that he didn’t resist.
After walking three blocks, Wen Di said angrily: “Have you never encountered any setbacks in your life?”
It was unclear whether the man hadn’t heard or was just too lazy to answer.
“It’s obvious at first glance,” Wen Di said, “you have no empathy at all.”
“I just don’t think shouting helps,” was the lazy reply.
“Yeah, right, you just don’t have it,” Wen Di said. “Even if you did, could it be more embarrassing than what I’ve been through?”
After a while, the man said, “Isn’t it just that your boyfriend is getting married?”
“Damn,” hearing it from someone else made it hit even harder, and Wen Di clutched his chest. “Do you have any idea how I treated him over the past five years?”
The journey back was long enough for Wen Di to start talking about bringing water during the military training to the surprise birthday party. The more Wen Di spoke, the more he felt like a complete fool—five years of giving his heart and soul, only to be seen by others as a practical caretaker, more than enough to be a lover but not enough to be a spouse, tasteless to consume and regrettable to discard.
The man didn’t interrupt him. It wasn’t until the neon lights of the main street came into view again and Wen Di ended his five-year history of blood and tears that the man finally said, “I envy your ex-boyfriend.”
“Bullshit,” Wen Di retorted, “if you don’t know how to comfort people, don’t say anything.”
Of course, there was no way the man would listen to him. “Meeting someone who loves you with all their heart is a rare chance,” the man continued. “He threw it away so casually. He’s the one who should be embarrassed. What does that have to do with you?”
Wen Di was speechless. He had been bracing himself for the man’s usual sarcastic jabs, but hadn’t expected this. Maybe it was because the man’s prior behavior had set such low expectations that, by comparison, he was surprisingly moved. “I didn’t expect you to speak like a human being.”
The man shot him a sharp look.
“But,” Wen Di added, “that’s not the part I feel embarrassed about.”
The man was at a loss for words. Since just now, this person had been cursing his ex-boyfriend non-stop, painting him as worse than a pig or a dog—wasn’t it because of the marriage?
“What do your parents do?” Wen Di asked suddenly.
Though the question seemed odd, the man still answered, “They’re both university professors.”
Wen Di nodded, sighing. “That’s nice. When people ask about your parents’ jobs, you must answer with a lot of ease.”
The man found this odd: “What do your parents do?”
“Run a breakfast stall.”
“Aren’t you quite straightforward as well? What does your parents’ profession have to do with anything?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Wen Di said, “It didn’t matter to me when I was 21, but when I was 16, it meant the world.”
He paused, seemingly recalling some bad memories, as the corners of his mouth drooped. “When I first started dating He… my ex-boyfriend, he went out with friends, and I tagged along. His friends were all sons of corporate executives, business owners, and chief engineers. While we were eating, they asked me what my family did…” He bit the inside of his cheek. “I said my parents were doctors.”
The man remained silent, returning to his role as a silent listener.
“After that, to keep up the lie, I researched a lot of things about doctors—where my parents supposedly went to college, what majors they majored in, the surgeries they were skilled in, what days of the week they were on duty, and the difficult patients they’d encountered. I made it all up, more detailed than writing a novel,” Wen Di said. “It’s quite ironic; before high school, I thought I was the child who loved their parents the most in the world.”
The next words were a little difficult to say. Wen Di found it hard to continue, rubbing the hem of his clothes several times before he managed to speak again.
“I thought the story I made up was perfect. But after I caught my ex-boyfriend getting married, he mentioned something about applying to universities abroad,” Wen Di said as he grabbed his head with both hands. “He knew! He knew all along! Since high school! All these years, he just watched me play the part of a doctor’s child, and who knows how he laughed at me behind my back with his friends. Do you know what that means?”
The man didn’t know how to respond, so he just shook his head.
“Everything is ruined,” Wen Di said. “Even the last little bit of memory that was worth holding on to is gone.”
For example, one year on his birthday, He Wenxuan had invited him to a fancy restaurant for dinner. They sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows at the top floor of the building, with the lights of the entire city below their feet. The lights and music were so beautiful, they were almost intoxicating. But from the moment they sat down, everything felt out of place.
When Wen Di sat down, he instinctively pulled back his chair. He didn’t notice the waiter behind him until He Wenxuan reminded him not to move. When the waiter poured wine, Wen Di instinctively lifted his glass to bring the rim closer to the bottle. And when the waiter came to clear the plates, he handed over his empty plate, placing it on the tray himself.
He Wenxuan had been watching him. When Wen Di asked what was wrong, the other party smiled and said, “I just think you’re cute.”
At the time, it felt full of the sweetness of first love. But looking back now, that look might not have been one of admiration; it might have been one of embarrassment.
“Do you know what that feels like?” Wen Di asked. “When you suddenly realize someone isn’t who you thought they were, and then you think back on all those wonderful memories, only to find they’ve all been overturned.”
The man suddenly spoke: “I know.”
Wen Di didn’t know anything about this person’s past, but the way he said it, his tone and expression, made Wen Di feel, inexplicably, that this person truly understood.
“I actually gave up being my parents’ child for this kind of person,” Wen Di said. “Marriage, cheating, university applications—those things are all disgusting and twisted, but those were his choices. The only thing that was my fault is this. Every time I see him, I’m reminded that I once was a liar who despised my own parents. Maybe the reason I cursed him so viciously is because I was disappointed in myself.”
At dawn, when everything should be quiet, the main street was still brightly lit, with tourists who hadn’t adjusted to the time difference reveling in the casinos. This was supposed to be a city that never sleeps, where all worries could be cast aside, yet the person beside him was confessing.
Then the man said, “This thought is really unnecessary.”
Wen Di rarely heard him express his opinion and he was startled, and a jolt of energy chased away the fatigue accumulated from the night.
“You didn’t tell them your parents’ job because they didn’t create an environment where you felt comfortable saying it, did they?” the man said. “They put some kind of pressure on you, made you feel like you couldn’t tell the truth. That’s their fault. Why are you taking it all on yourself?”
For some reason, with just that simple sentence, Wen Di suddenly felt the haze in his heart dissipate. He felt relieved, but also felt terrified by this relief.
Was it really so easy to shake off guilt? Had he been searching all this time for an excuse to leave the past behind?
“Don’t spend all your time repenting,” the man said. “Start looking for reasons in other people.”
Wen Di couldn’t help but laugh at that. Along with his gratitude, a sense of admiration arose: “I wish I could be more like you, just say whatever I want and toss my feelings onto others. Life would be so much easier.”
The man nodded, indicating that he agreed with this attitude and put it into practice, and then added, “But that can be very lonely.”
“Really?”
“Of course, that’s what happens when you don’t follow social etiquette,” the man said. “Other people will think you’re weird.”
Wen Di stuffed his hands into his pockets, tilted his head, and thought for a moment. He furrowed his brow and said, “But isn’t the idea of being strange or not kind of fluid?”
“Fluid?”
“Strange, crazy, ordinary—these aren’t like mathematical formulas. They don’t stay constant,” Wen Di said. “There will be people who think it’s normal to be an outsider, people who find madness charming, people who see the extraordinary in the ordinary…” He paused, then pointed at both the man and himself. “There are people who understand the reasons behind a lie. Isn’t that the most beautiful thing about people meeting each other?”
The man looked at him and asked, “So what kind of person do you think I am?”
Wen Di thought about it, then said, “A special person.”
“That sounds better than ‘strange.'”
Wen Di beamed with pride at his ability to choose words and sentences, then tried to comfort the other party, “No matter what, your parents definitely wouldn’t think you’re strange. You won’t be too lonely with the support of your family.”
“That’s not necessarily true.”
Wen Di looked at his profile, illuminated by the lights: “What happened to you?”
The man didn’t answer. He hesitated at the intersection for a while, then turned, walking back onto Las Vegas Boulevard.
“Tell me,” Wen Di said. “I’ve told you the secret that I’ve kept in my heart; what’s so wrong with you telling me?”
Towering buildings lined both sides of the boulevard, and in the center of the street was a small park. The moment he saw the bench, Wen Di felt as if he had been pardoned, and he sat down quickly without paying attention to the dust on it. He looked up at the man who stood in front of him. His gaze was heavy, flickering as if he was calculating the risk of what to say. Just when Wen Di thought this game of statues would go on forever, the man spoke.
“Have you come out to your family?” the man asked.
Wen Di replied with an “Oh”: “So that’s it. Did your parents react strongly?”
“It’s my father.”
“Older generations often have limited thinking; it’s normal for them to struggle with new things,” Wen Di said. “My parents are good parents, and I haven’t dared to come out to them either. What about your parents? Are they angry at you, or are they crying and begging you to get married?”
“The combination of the two,” the man replied. “I have to marry the person my father approves of. The past month has been a whirlwind of arranged dates.”
Wen Di gave him a sympathetic look. “That’s tough.”
“And then…” the man paused, his voice growing quieter, “I found out something.”
He briefly recounted his conversation with his stepmother. Amidst the scorching desert air, Wen Di suddenly felt a chill. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out how to comfort him. Betrayal from family was different from a breakup with a boyfriend; the roots in East Asia make it too difficult to sever ties with family.
The man wasn’t expecting more from him; he simply continued, “I don’t know what our relationship will turn into. He can’t reconcile with my orientation, and I can’t reconcile with his marriage…”
Wen Di looked at him and suddenly said, “Why don’t you just marry a man instead?”
The other person was stunned.
How did that idea even come up?
“Same-sex marriage is legal here,” Wen Di said. “Once you’re married, how could your dad possibly set you up on blind dates again? Just tell him clearly that you can’t change your sexual orientation, and it’s impossible for him to control your marriage. Besides, he went ahead and got married without telling you, so why not do the same?”
He made getting married sound as casual as buying scallions at the market.
“So I should get married just to spite him?” the man said. “Isn’t that a bit childish?”
“What’s wrong with being childish? You seem like someone who’s never done anything childish in your life.” Talking nonsense with complete confidence was Wen Di’s special skill. “A life without going off track isn’t complete.”
It was a ridiculous statement, but there had been so many ridiculous things that happened that night that the absurdity had become reasonable. The man actually followed Wen Di’s train of thought. “Even if what you’re saying makes some sense, where am I supposed to find someone to marry? You think the streets of Las Vegas are full of gay men looking to get married?”
If he were sober, Wen Di would never say such a thing. But that night, starting from the bar, he was in a state of haziness, and He Wenxuan’s phone call lingered in his mind: “Me ah.”
The man and his companion, whom he had just met the night before, stared at each other in silence.
“You want to go to war with your dad, and I want to show my ex what’s what. Isn’t this perfect? Look over there,” Wen Di pointed toward a grey brick building next to the garden. “Marriage License Bureau, we just happened to be at the registration place, isn’t this God’s will?”
Suddenly, a ray of morning light appeared in the sky. The neon lights dimmed, and the streetlights quietly turned off, as if stepping aside for the sun. The lawn began to awaken in the soft morning glow, and the fresh air was filled with the fragrance of flowers and the smell of moist soil. In that brief moment, this bustling, noisy city felt unusually peaceful.
The sun rose, and the hands of the clock turned to a new day.
Looking at the pale golden skyline, the man suddenly spoke. “Alright ba,” he said, “let’s get married.”
In Las Vegas, the Marriage License Bureau operates from 8 a.m. until midnight. As long as the documents were submitted, they could get a marriage license on the same day.
Afterward, they just needed to find a witness, hold the ceremony, have the witness sign the license, and return the signed document to the bureau for registration. Then, they would officially be legal partners.
The wedding and witness wouldn’t be hard to arrange. Almost every hotel in the city offered a variety of all-inclusive wedding services. Options ranged from luxurious hotel banquets to simple ceremonies in chapels, and even adrenaline-pumping elopement experiences—like taking a helicopter ride over the Las Vegas Strip, soaring past the Hoover Dam, through the Grand Canyon, and celebrating in mid-air among rugged cliffs, popping champagne in victory.
Getting married in here was so quick and easy that the city held the top spot in the U.S. for spur-of-the-moment weddings.
There was only one problem.
“We don’t have any money,” the man said.
T/N: This like the third danmei I’ve read where mc just went to marry stranger in Las Vegas, and gotta admit the other two are also one of my favorites!
Thanks for your translation. May I ask for the title of those two other novels?
Thank you also for reading! here are the novels
一诺一生 – https://www.gongzicp.com/novel-514918.html
绰约 – https://www.gongzicp.com/novel-1328751.html (i’m pretty sure someone has translated this one!)