When Isabella received Elowen’s call, she was already standing at the entrance of the civil affairs bureau. Andrew parked the car, quickly walked up the steps, and naturally took her hand.
“Who’s calling?” he asked casually.
“Elowen,” Isabella replied. “Victoria is worried we’ll continue colluding and wants to buy Elowen off. Luckily, she’s not a fool.”
“Elowen isn’t foolish, but she’s not someone you should associate with,” Andrew reminded her.
“Yes, I know.” Isabella nodded and linked her arm through his. “Today is our day to register our marriage. Let’s not let unrelated people affect our mood.”
Andrew smiled and lightly tapped her nose. The two of them walked into the building together.
The first-floor office hall was almost packed. It seemed today was a rare and auspicious day.
“Do we need to take a number?” she asked.
“With so many people here, aren’t you afraid of being recognized?” he chuckled, picking up his phone to dial a number.
Shortly after, a staff member approached them and politely inquired, “Are you Mr. Andrew?”
“Yeah,” Andrew nodded.
“Please follow me,” the staff member led them to the photography room.
A newlywed couple had just finished taking their photos and went to the next room to pick them up.
Once the door to the photography room closed, Isabella followed Andrew to sit on the bench and then took off her mask.
The staff member was momentarily stunned upon seeing Isabella, glanced at Andrew instinctively, but wisely kept silent.
Isabella removed her coat to reveal a simple white blouse underneath.
Andrew was also wearing a crisp white shirt, with his suit jacket draped over his arm, not interfering with the photo shoot.
“Your hair is loose,” he said, gently tucking a stray strand behind her ear with a tender look.
Isabella looked up and smiled at him. Then they both sat upright, waiting for the photographer.
“Are you both ready? Lean in a bit closer. Good, okay.” The photographer took the picture and showed it to them on the digital camera, allowing for retakes if they were dissatisfied.
“It’s great, thank you,” Isabella replied with a smile, putting her mask back on.
Hand in hand, they walked out of the photography room and into the next room to collect their photos.
The photos were printed electronically and came out quickly.
Holding the photos, Isabella smiled and asked, “Do we look well-matched?”
“Yeah,” Andrew nodded.
Isabella: “…”
That response was too perfunctory.
Holding their freshly issued marriage certificate, Isabella felt a mix of unreality and excitement. From this moment on, they were legally married.
Hand in hand, they walked down from the second-floor office area. Andrew’s phone rang, and he stepped aside to take the call.
Isabella stood at the entrance of the first-floor office hall, waiting.
People came and went at the entrance-some were newlyweds, beaming with joy, while others were couples with sour expressions, arguing as they walked.
The civil affairs bureau handled not only marriage registrations but also numerous divorces every day.
Isabella descended the steps and instinctively looked back at the office building. Crossing this threshold, her status changed-she was now married instead of single.
After they came out, Isabella sat in the passenger seat, thinking about what to have for dinner to celebrate. A candlelight dinner, followed by a waltz on the balcony, sounded quite romantic. They could also enjoy a bath together later that night.
Thinking about the bath made her blush.
Andrew glanced at her in confusion, one hand on the steering wheel, and reached out to feel her forehead with the other, “Isabella, your face is so red. Do you have a fever?”
She instinctively swatted his hand away, “Of course not.”
He withdrew his hand and focused on driving.
“Andrew, what’s the plan for tonight?” she asked.
“You decide,” he said with a smile. Just as he finished speaking, his phone rang.
He answered the call, and whatever was said on the other end made his handsome face show a hint of helplessness.
“My mother is back. She knows about our marriage registration and wants us to visit the Turner family,” he told Isabella after hanging up.
“Going to your house?” Isabella wasn’t mentally prepared at all.
“Even an ugly daughter-in-law has to meet her in-laws,” Andrew joked.
“But I haven’t prepared anything. Shouldn’t I change clothes and prepare some gifts to make it seem more formal?” she added.
“That’s not necessary,” he said, holding the steering wheel and glancing at her. “You’ve met my mother and sister before. They are easy to get along with. As for anyone else, you don’t need to worry about them.”
Andrew’s car slowly entered the Turner family estate, where a servant was already waiting at the door.
He handed the car keys to the servant and, holding Isabella’s hand, walked into the villa.
In the first-floor hall, the Turner family was surprisingly all present.
Mr. Jacob sat in the center of a solid wood sofa, with Stella and Henry on his left and Mrs. Hannah on his right.
Layla sat on another sofa on one side, creating a clear division between two factions.
“Dad, Mom, Sis,” Andrew greeted each of them, his deep eyes calm and polite, yet distinctly distant.
“Uncle, Aunt, Sister,” Isabella followed him in greeting.
“Andrew and Isabella are back. Come, sit,” Mrs. Hannah said with a smile, waving Isabella over.
Isabella, slightly shy, sat next to Mrs. Hannah. “Aunt, long time no see. I missed you.”
Mrs. Hannah smiled, holding Isabella’s hand, but before she could speak, Stella’s voice rang out.
“Miss Isabella, you sure have a sweet tongue. A few words and you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger. No wonder Andrew is so captivated by you. But in our family, sweet words aren’t enough. Even if your family is small, didn’t they teach you basic manners? Visiting elders empty-handed?”
Stella’s sharp voice was grating. Isabella instinctively scratched her ear. Then, Layla spoke unhurriedly.
“Speaking of manners, I recall your first visit here. You walked in with a big belly. Although you were carrying something in your belly, your hands were empty, weren’t they? Ah, I’m getting old and my memory isn’t what it used to be.”
Stella’s face turned pale with anger.
Isabella had no chance to speak and simply enjoyed the show from the sidelines. She thought, “No wonder Andrew went to great lengths to bring Layla back. Her combat effectiveness is five stars.”
“Alright, stop bringing up old grudges,” Mrs. Hannah said, reluctantly defending Stella’s dignity.
“Andrew, your father mentioned that you and Isabella registered your marriage at the civil affairs bureau today?” Mrs. Hannah asked.
The Turner family had an extensive network of connections. Andrew knew it was impossible to keep anything from them, and he had no intention of hiding it. His marriage to Isabella was legitimate and above board.
“Yes,” Andrew responded calmly.
Then, Mr. Jacob slapped the coffee table with such force that it shook. “Marriage is a big deal, and you didn’t consult with the elders. Who gave you the right to make such decisions on your own?”
With one sentence from Mr. Jacob, the atmosphere turned tense. Although he was directing his anger at Andrew, it was clearly aimed at Isabella.