The instructor responsible for the expedition team's training was exactly Ivy's type, or as her friends teasingly put it, "your standard dish."
He had thick, slightly curly black hair and equally dark eyes. Tall and taciturn, he rarely spoke anything unrelated to the course during class.
Even when he did, it was mostly things like—
"Your power bursts look like a chick hiding under its mother's wing to escape the rain."
"Is that unorthodox posture a tribute to Venus?"
"Given your current training progress, as your instructor, I can only offer one piece of advice—it's not too late to drop the course now."
Such cold, almost venomous remarks.
Ivy had noticed his nameplate early on, pinned to the chest of his black combat uniform.
The material of the nameplate signified rank. For instance, Ivy and her peers could only wear brass nameplates, while this mysterious, newly appointed instructor's nameplate was made of pristine platinum.
On that small, white nameplate, besides the engraved iris flower symbolizing love, was his name: Lorin.
However, she never got the chance to compliment him on how pleasant his name sounded.
On the first day of class, Lorin had strictly emphasized the issue of address. During the training period, whether in class or not, everyone had to refer to him as "instructor," even though this was just a short-lived new recruit training session.
The irises bloomed vibrantly, yet he was as cold and meticulous as the metal of his nameplate, devoid of any warmth.
There was another reason why Ivy hesitated to speak to him.
—Ivy was already married.
To a man she had never met.
Their union was an accident.
In today's world, where AI robots operate efficiently, machines and codes have significantly reduced labor costs, leading to mass unemployment among ordinary people. The rise of unemployment and the emergence of customizable virtual robotic partners, which effortlessly provide emotional satisfaction, have turned "romance" into a luxury beyond basic survival needs.
To address the plummeting marriage and birth rates, the United Government unanimously decided to implement a series of policies to promote partnerships.
The Civil Affairs Bureau also hired several relationship psychology experts to offer free relationship courses and introduced multiple measures, including but not limited to regularly hosting matchmaking events, developing an official dating app, and requiring all eligible singles to fill out a Marriage Intention Survey—to improve efficiency and avoid unnecessary conflicts, only those who matched 100% of each other's criteria would receive each other's contact information.
After all, with the option to customize a fully obedient, entirely personalized virtual robotic partner for just a thousand yuan, most humans no longer wanted to compromise with another incompatible human.
This nearly "customizable" Marriage Intention Survey was promoted extensively. Every adult with a human ID, as long as they were unmarried and not in a relationship, had to fill it out. Of course, considering ethics and eugenics, unless there were special requests, priority was given to matching suitable partners within a ten-year age gap.
To appease the surveyors, Ivy half-heartedly filled out the Marriage Intention Survey, even adding many unrealistic and harsh demands—
Height accurate to the centimeter, weight precise to the gram, specific hair length and color, eye color, chest, waist, and hip measurements, length, width, an absurdly high salary, an inhumanely stable personality, muscle mass, BMI…
She even jokingly added a requirement that the person must have won two long-distance running championships in kindergarten.
「Note: Exactly two, no more, no less.」
Heaven knows which kindergarten would even hold long-distance running races.
While filling it out, Ivy could already imagine its fate—lying alone in a forgotten corner of the database, as a piece of data that would never be successfully matched, quietly existing until the planet exploded and the world ended.
Who would have thought that the very next morning, she would receive a "Match Successful" notification.
Who would have thought someone could perfectly meet all those criteria?
Who would have thought she would also perfectly match the criteria the other person had filled out?
As an unprecedented perfect match, their case was widely reported as news. Both sets of parents hit it off, and before Ivy even had a chance to meet the man, she found herself engaged.
All because he was a high-ranking officer involved in a confidential project, currently on a special mission.
She thought there must have been some mistake.
Ivy tried to communicate with him and successfully received a brief, concise letter in response.
The content was short, just a few lines, so formal that he seemed more like an AI than a virtual partner.
「I am pleased to be married to you and hope we can get along amicably.」
In this era of paperless communication and advanced networks, where people at the North and South Poles can connect in a second, it took him two days to send her this handwritten letter from his military base.
He even used a fountain pen, with ink as deep blue as the night sky.
The last time Ivy saw a fountain pen was during a museum visit organized by her elementary school.
He must be an old-fashioned, stubborn man.
The robotic tone of the letter made her afraid to look at the detailed information he had attached.
Ivy had always been emotionally detached, so she struck a deal with her parents.
She agreed to use her marriage as a bargaining chip to marry this man her parents approved of, in exchange for the freedom to decide her future—specifically, her parents would no longer interfere with her application to join the United Government's official expedition team.
Becoming the official captain of an expedition team had always been Ivy's dream.
The potential dangers and high mortality rate during expeditions were the main reasons her parents strongly opposed her decision.
Back then, Ivy had argued with her parents for a long time but ultimately reluctantly chose a major in biological sciences, occasionally daydreaming about the joys of exploration.
Compared to the freedom to explore, a mere arranged marriage didn't seem so unbearable.
At least, that's what Ivy thought before the night she officially became his wife.
On her wedding night, Ivy got drunk—very drunk. All she remembered was that he had strong yet restrained hands.
He wasn't an old man; according to the records, he was only nine years older than her, a bearable age gap.
Nothing excessive seemed to have happened that night, Ivy thought. There were no suspicious marks on her body, and he had shown good self-restraint, not taking advantage of a drunk woman. That was good.
Ivy shuddered as she recalled the terrifying width and length she had specified in the survey, relieved that the survey data was privately uploaded and confidential, while also worrying that it might actually kill someone.
It was at this moment that she seriously began considering divorce.
After the wedding, Ivy continued her studies and, six months later, passed the physical fitness test, officially joining the government-organized expedition team.
Her parents finally reluctantly accepted this.
At the same time, considering her future and personal feelings, she decided to end this hasty marriage and sent her unknown husband a divorce agreement.
Ivy put herself in his shoes, thinking he must have been forced into this too, otherwise he wouldn't have been so distant.
In the six months since their marriage, they hadn't met once or exchanged any letters. Such obvious, straightforward hints should be clear to anyone.
Therefore, in the divorce agreement, Ivy used very formal language, respectfully addressing him as Mr. Hector.
「
Dear Mr. Hector,
Greetings!
Given the prolonged separation since our marriage, I believe our marital relationship has become nominal.
Thus, I am writing to inquire if you would be willing to proceed with a divorce. I am about to embark on my first long-distance expedition with the team and would like to formally dissolve our marriage before then.
I look forward to your reply.
Sincerely,
Ivy,
An expedition team trainee and, for now, still your partner, equally deserving of your respect.
」
The email was sent.
One day, two days.
A week passed.
There was no reply.
Ivy waited patiently, but her friends were already convinced that this arranged marriage would end in separation, eagerly planning a pre-celebration bachelorette party for her.
Some bold ones even encouraged Ivy to ask for Instructor Lorin's contact information.
"The course is over, so even if I get rejected, it’s fine. After all, we won’t see each other again anyway."
The fact that "we won’t see each other again" was crucial. After becoming single again, Ivy could continue her pursuit of love. The person might not necessarily be Lorin, but he could still be one of the potential candidates—
Well, Ivy thought, Lorin would definitely not give her his personal contact information.
During class, aside from what was necessary, he hardly spoke to her.
Several times, when Ivy glanced at him, he would remain focused straight ahead. Occasionally, their eyes would meet, but he would calmly look away, as if avoiding something extremely dangerous.
Ivy had never even seen Lorin smile. He was not only sparing with his words but also with his smiles.
When Lorin was successfully intercepted by her friends, the girls all scattered, laughing and joking, leaving Ivy standing there awkwardly. She had no experience in approaching someone, let alone when the person being approached was her teacher.
Lorin was still wearing the black combat uniform provided by the training camp. None of the students had ever seen him in casual clothes, making it impossible to guess his personal style.
His tone was the same as during class: "Ivy, is there something you need?"
Ivy mustered her courage: "...I was wondering if I could have your personal contact information. Would that be possible?"
She noticed a rare look of surprise on Lorin’s face.
How unusual—even someone with a poker face could show human emotions. Was this the first time a student had stopped him to ask for his contact information?
After two seconds, Lorin calmly recited a string of numbers.
Ivy looked down as she entered them, then exclaimed in surprise: "This seems so familiar. I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before."
"Mm," he said gravely, "Last week, you just sent me the divorce papers."
Ivy: "..."
After a long moment of stunned silence, she finally found her voice again.
She spoke stiffly: "But... my husband’s name is Hector."
"Exactly," Lorin said, "Lorin Hector—the name I signed on our marriage application."
He paused, leaning slightly closer.
That oppressive feeling of being corrected for her posture during class returned, and Ivy stood frozen in place.
She thought to herself that this was probably the most perfect military stance she had ever maintained in her life.
Lorin looked down at her and asked, "So, you’ve never actually read our marriage application, have you?"
