I married my arch-enemy. And I was deceived. Yes, you heard that right—deceived!

I never imagined that our parents would go to such lengths to force me and Elvis into marriage.

My father faked a brain hemorrhage, claiming his dying wish was to see me married to Elvis.

Meanwhile, Elvis' mother resorted to crying, threatening to hang herself, and even fasting for three whole days.

Just when Elvis and I thought that not getting married would literally kill our parents, we reluctantly got our marriage certificate.

But when we returned home, the scene that greeted us was utterly absurd.

The father who had been on his deathbed just a day before was now drinking Maotai with Elvis' father.

And Elvis' mother, who had supposedly been on a hunger strike, was hugging my mom, laughing joyously like lifelong friends.

This scene made Elvis and I look like the biggest fools ever.

***

"You tricked us!!!"

Elvis and I shouted in unison, our anger palpable.

But the four of them showed no remorse. Instead, they beamed at the red marriage certificates in our hands, their smiles bright and carefree.

"Maggie, Auntie is so happy! You're finally my daughter-in-law."

Elvis' mother exclaimed, rushing over to hug me with surprising energy for someone who hadn't eaten for three days.

"Maggie, call me Mom," she coaxed, holding out a shiny black card. "This card will be yours if you do."

Looking at the shiny black card, unwilling but unable to resist the allure of the card, I hesitantly muttered, "Mom."

Elvis' mother nearly burst with joy, while Elvis, standing next to me, sneered sarcastically.

"Maggie, can you be any more spineless?"

I curled my lips and ignored Elvis.

After all, we were already married. What was the point of resisting anymore?

And Elvis, despite his show of self-respect, had eagerly accepted the car keys my parents had given him.

"Maggie," my mom spoke up after Elvis accepted the keys and changed his address to 'Mom and Dad.' She glanced at Elvis, then at me, with an apologetic expression.

That was probably the only apology I had seen all day.

I was so touched that I almost hugged her, but then she added, "We've already booked our tickets for an overseas trip."

"What?"

Elvis and I exchanged glances, both of us suddenly excited.

"We're not going on a honeymoon."

Getting married was nauseating enough for the two of us.

"Who said anything about your honeymoon?"

My mom looked at us with a gaze that said, "Don't get ahead of yourselves."

"Then what's with the tickets?"

I had a sinking feeling in my gut.

Sure enough, the next second, Elvis' mom chimed in cheerfully, "They're for the four of us. Are you surprised?"

Elvis and I exchanged a glance and couldn't help but roll our eyes in unison.

So, we got married, and they got to go on a honeymoon.

But actually, that's not such a bad thing.

With them gone, Elvis and I would have our freedom.

"Don't think you can be free."

My mom gave us both a stern look and pointed upstairs to the bedroom that now belonged to the two of us.

"We've installed surveillance cameras at the door. You two must come home together every night. We'll be watching you every moment."

Elvis' mom nodded vigorously beside her, adding, "And it would be best if there's a baby when we get back."

A baby?

Just the thought of being with Elvis in that way sent a shiver down my spine.

Unlike the close-knit bond between our parents, Elvis and I had been at each other's throats since we were kids.

In fact, you could say we were enemies.

But why our relationship became so hostile, I can't quite remember.

I only remember that in elementary school, Elvis stuck gum in my hair, forcing me to chop it off and turn me into a tomboy.

In middle school, he punctured my bike tires—every single time. I'd fix them, and he'd puncture them again, making me take the bus for an entire semester.

In high school, he was even worse. He posted a love letter I wrote to a senior on the school bulletin board, got me in trouble with my parents, and made me the laughingstock of the entire school.

As for college...

To get away from that devil, I deliberately chose a university far from him.

But who would've thought that this persistent guy would start dating a girl at my school?

He showed up at my university on every holiday and even spread rumors that I had 20 different boyfriends—some who sank into despair, some who committed suicide, and some who were swindled out of money...

In short, he got me labeled as a complete scumbag for four years.

And now, this man, who I hate with every fiber of my being, is my husband.

"You're sleeping on the couch."

Before being ushered into the bedroom under the fierce gazes of the four elders, I told Elvis.

He agreed without hesitation, "Fine!"

He didn't even say, "Why don't you sleep on the couch?"

I was a bit surprised.

But the moment I opened the door, I was no longer surprised.

Because there was no couch at all!!!

"Elvis, I distinctly remember there being a couch here. Where is it?"

I was frantic.

But Elvis remained calm, raising an eyebrow at me, "Other than the bed, what else do you see here?"

I looked around and felt a cold chill run through me.

They say older people are wiser for a reason.

These four, with a combined age of two hundred years, really didn't hold back in bullying us two kids.

"Just accept it."

Elvis casually sprawled out on the bed, then looked at me with a hint of impatience, "Are you going to sleep or not?"

I stood there with my arms crossed, torn.

Staring at Elvis lying on the bed, I asked cautiously, "You're not going to try anything, right?"

Elvis suddenly burst into laughter.

And it was a surprisingly nice laugh.

He propped his head up with one arm and gave me a once-over.

"Maggie, where do you get this confidence from? With that shriveled body of yours, like a withered cucumber, do you think I'm that desperate?"

"Elvis, are you asking for a beating?"

I was instantly enraged and jumped onto the bed, raising my fists to give him a piece of my mind. But before I could land a punch, Elvis flipped over, and the next second, the blanket was thrown over my head, wrapping me up tightly.

I tried to struggle, but Elvis tightened his grip from outside the blanket.

"Alright, just go to sleep, Princess Maggie."

For some reason, that "Princess Maggie" from Elvis struck a chord in me.

Actually, Elvis and I didn't always have such a terrible relationship.

At least in kindergarten, we got along really well.

Back then, I made Elvis call me Princess Maggie, and he obediently did so.

I told him to be my little follower, and he happily complied.

But somewhere along the line, things took a turn for the worse between us.

I pressed my lips together, thinking about how Elvis had given up the blanket for me. I decided to let him off the hook this time.

The next morning, when I woke up, I found Elvis staring at me with wide eyes.

I was startled.

I thought to myself, could this guy possibly have a crush on me?

But then Elvis spoke up, and his tone was dripping with disdain.

"Maggie, do you even realize that you grind your teeth and snore in your sleep? Are you really a girl?"

"Who grinds their teeth and snores? Don't accuse me of things I didn't do."

I glared at him fiercely.

Elvis wasn't fazed at all. He grinned lazily and slowly pulled out his phone.

I heard a rhythmic, sawing-like sound coming from it.

"Oh, and I accidentally recorded the sound of you farting too. Do you want to listen?"

"Ah~"

I screamed, my face flushed as I lunged for his phone, but he had anticipated my move and dodged. Still, my nails scratched his hand.

Elvis winced and jumped off the bed.

I quickly threw off the covers and jumped down as well, blocking the door to stop him from leaving.

"Give me the phone."

I stretched out my hand. There's no way I could let Elvis keep such embarrassing recordings.

But Elvis was clearly intent on making me miserable.

He shook his head, wearing a smug expression. "Don't even think about it."

He reached out to pull me aside, trying to leave, but I blocked the door with determination.

"If you don't give it to me, you're not going anywhere today."

I knew Elvis had plans. Yesterday, he had received a tearful call from a woman who had been in an ambiguous relationship with him since high school. She was devastated when she found out he was getting married.

Elvis agreed and decided to meet her today.

So, I was sure that in order to leave, Elvis would hand over the phone.

I thought I could hold my ground at the door.

But I overestimated my strength and underestimated Elvis' shamelessness.

"You won't let me out, will you?" Elvis lowered his head and stared at me. "If you don't let me out, I might just kiss you."

He actually leaned in as he spoke.

I couldn't bear the thought of being kissed by Elvis, so I jumped out of the way the moment he leaned in.

With his goal achieved, Elvis smugly walked out of the bedroom.

Since our four elders had a flight today, Elvis and I took them to the airport and only parted ways there.

Elvis was off to meet his confidante.

And I...

Of course, I was going to follow him!!!

As much as I despised Elvis, he was still my husband.

If he cheats right after our wedding, it would not only embarrass me but also make me seem completely unattractive.

Of course, I also had another plan in mind.

If I could catch some 'intimate' moments between Elvis and his confidante...

Hmm...

Then I could divorce him without any hesitation.

The thought of possibly regaining my freedom excited me, and I quickly forgot about my pride.

Elvis and his confidante arranged to meet at a high-end café in the city center.

I sneaked in, trying to stay out of sight. Finally, I found a seat at a dimly lit corner diagonally behind Elvis, where I could see them clearly, but they wouldn't notice me—a prime spot.

With everything ready, I zoomed in my camera, capturing every move Elvis and his confidante made.

In the frame, Elvis' confidante was crying pitifully, as though her heart was breaking.

But that heartless jerk, Elvis, showed no sympathy, not even offering her a tissue.

Feeling a mix of sympathy and frustration, I couldn't help but curse him in my heart.

What a cold-hearted scumbag!

And how blind must that woman be!

The scene was so still. I lost my appetite.

Come on, kiss! Hug!

Do something exciting!

Just as I was lifting my coffee to perk myself up, the woman suddenly became agitated and reached out to grab Elvis' hand.

My excitement spiked.

In my excitement, I lost my grip, and the coffee spilled onto the floor.

The sound echoed crisply through the quiet café.

Elvis and his confidante turned their heads simultaneously, and I quickly crouched down to hide.

As I scrambled to crawl under the table, Elvis walked over and picked me up like a kitten.

I grinned foolishly at Elvis, trying to cover up my sneaky behavior.

Elvis narrowed his eyes, his brows arched, but he unceremoniously snatched the phone from my hand.

Does Elvis like me?