The End Of The Special Contract Marriage (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 8
House of Marquis Hugo managed, somehow, to complete special preparations for their guest within just half a day.
The dining hall, adorned with lavender grown from their own garden, was bright yet refined. White narcissus vases stood at intervals along the long table lined with golden candelabras.
Seated with the Marquis at the head of the table, Aracila and Damian sat on his left, while the rest of the Hugo family occupied his right.
Adrian, seated beside Iris, had finally calmed down somewhat, though his chubby cheeks remained slightly puffed.
“I fear our hurried preparations may have left certain aspects lacking—please understand.”
“Not at all. Everything is exceptionally splendid and impressive.”
Indeed, every dish presented by the servants was so flawless it bore no trace of having been prepared under time constraints.
The seasoned grace befitting an ancient noble house shone brightest in moments of urgency.
“My lord, there is something I wish to ask.”
Not long after the meal began, the Marquis set down his wine glass after taking a sip and broached the subject.
“Please, go ahead.”
“…My lord, why did you decide to marry our Aracila?”
He had two daughters. Objectively speaking, the typical nobleman would prefer his elder daughter over the younger as a bride.
Her modest, unadorned appearance, impeccable adherence to noble etiquette, and quiet, steady demeanor all signaled she would surely grow into a dignified, virtuous lady.
Since childhood, Iris had been the ideal bride, with marriage proposals pouring in from countless noble houses.
Thus, he’d always assumed—regardless of age—that Iris would be the first of his children to marry, never expecting Aracila to step ahead so abruptly.
“I’ve heard it wasn’t a political arrangement.”
Frankly, he still found it hard to believe the two had fallen in love, but since they insisted, the Marquis accepted it for now.
“My lord may or may not know, but my younger daughter is… somewhat unconventional.”
Unable to outright call his daughter “odd,” “peculiar,” or “a rare breed,” the Marquis expressed himself diplomatically.
After swallowing the food in his mouth and taking a sip of water, Damian finally spoke.
“Lady Hugo is indeed an extraordinary woman.”
Though they’d known each other only briefly and rarely conversed,
it was obvious at a glance that Aracila Hugo was an unusual woman. Surprisingly, Damian didn’t view this as a flaw.
In fact, had Aracila been naive and dull-witted, he might have reconsidered this arranged marriage.
“But that’s precisely why I grew fond of her. I felt certain marriage to her wouldn’t be stifling—since I detest feeling confined.”
“That’s only because you haven’t lived with my daughter yet.”
The Marchioness, who’d often been frustrated by her younger daughter, let out a quiet sigh.
“Is that truly your sole reason for marrying her? What if you find yourself stifled after the wedding?”
Her features closely resembled her elder sister’s, yet her blue eyes were unmistakably Aracila’s as she fixed Damian with a steady gaze.
“Marriage is the most important decision in life. Both of you must consider it carefully before choosing.”
Truthfully, she refrained from speaking plainly only because he wasn’t her own child—but Damian hardly seemed like someone destined for a happy marriage, any more than Aracila did.
The Marquis and Marchioness were deeply worried whether these two should wed at all.
“Please don’t worry, Marchioness. Lady Hugo and I have had ample conversation before making this decision.”
“That’s right, Mother. And if anyone’s going to feel stifled after marriage, you should worry about me instead.”
Aracila looked at her mother with an innocent expression. Though she was her own flesh and blood, the girl remained astonishingly lovely—yet…
“The thought of becoming someone’s wife already makes me feel suffocated—far more than he does.”
Her daughter’s bold remark, made while the very “someone” sat right beside her, made the Marchioness press her fingers to her forehead.
“It’s alright. As her prospective husband, I find myself just as suffocated.”
“Oh dear, then we’ll have to be careful not to die of suffocation before even getting married.”
Despite exchanging banter, both Damian and Aracila maintained expressionless faces.
The House of Hugo truly couldn’t fathom why these two were getting married.
Just… why…?
“Lord Vandermir, Aracila isn’t the sort who can simply live quietly and tend to her husband like other women.”
After a long silence, the Marchioness finally spoke again, her voice solemn and grave.
“Therefore, rather than expect the impossible from her, it would be wiser to stop this here.”
The Marchioness had been the one most opposed to Aracila’s spinsterhood and ambition to become Archmage.
Yet once she resolved to support her daughter, she became her strongest advocate.
“I am not so inadequate as to require my wife’s assistance.”
Damian gently yet firmly rejected the Marchioness’s advice.
“Whatever Lady Hugo chooses to do after our marriage, I won’t interfere. She shall live her life as she wishes, and I shall live mine.”
“So you mean you won’t stop Aracila from working at the Mage Tower after marriage?”
Understanding that Damian had no intention of restricting Aracila as a husband, Iris asked in surprise.
In noble society, it was universally accepted that regardless of what a woman did before marriage, she must abandon all pursuits afterward to focus solely on managing the household and supporting her husband.
“I have no right to stop her. Whether she continues at the Mage Tower rests entirely on Lady Hugo’s will.”
Aracila, too, looked at Damian with slightly widened eyes at those words.
They hadn’t yet reached an agreement on this matter. Although she fully intended to keep working after marriage, she hadn’t known his stance.
‘For a knight, he’s surprisingly less rigid than expected.’
Though the Mage Tower itself was conservative, knightly orders were even more so—since the kingdom’s founding, not a single woman had ever joined the Imperial Knights.
Thus, it was genuinely astonishing that Damian Vandermir, revered as a paragon among all knights, would make such a statement without prior consultation.
“…It seems you two have indeed spoken at length.”
In truth, they’d barely exchanged more than five proper conversations—but moved by Damian’s response, the Marquis misunderstood.
“I always believed the only man in the world suited to my beloved younger daughter was myself.”
“It’s alright, Father. You and he aren’t that compatible.”
Aracila thought it unlikely they’d ever become truly compatible. Their brief accord had been like a broken clock showing the right time by chance.
“Still, please stop worrying over our marriage and help us make it work.”
“Indeed. Marquis and Marchioness, I ask you not to fret too much.”
Damian shifted his gaze slightly to include Iris and Adrian in his words.
“The same goes for Lady Hugo and Master Hugo.”
Just as the Hugo family realized they could no longer oppose the marriage and were about to resume eating,
“I… have a question too.”
Adrian, who’d been eating quietly with a gloomy expression, raised his hand. All eyes turned to the young boy.
“What is it, Adrian?”
“Lord Vandermir, are you affectionate?”
Aracila nearly spat out her drink at the sudden, unexpected question. Even Damian blinked slowly, uncharacteristically taken aback.
“…Affectionate?”
“Yes. My older sister likes men who are affectionate.”
Adrian now understood he couldn’t stop his sister’s marriage.
Thus, with a heavy but resigned heart, he’d decided to accept this outsider marrying his beloved younger sister.
“Please be affectionate with my sister. I entrust my younger sister to you.”
“…”
Damian stared blankly at Adrian, who bowed his head resolutely. Beside him, Aracila fought desperately to suppress her laughter.
“Pfft.”
“…My lady, please don’t laugh.”
Damian exhaled a silent sigh. His opponent was merely an eleven-year-old boy—it was awkward to scold him.
“I won’t… huh.”
Aracila covered her face with both hands. The others maintained better decorum but were clearly struggling not to laugh as well.
In the end, they all failed and burst into laughter.
[This is the timeline separator]“Lord Vandermir.”
As Damian headed toward the entrance to leave after the meal, the Marquis called him back.
From his slightly wavy lavender hair to his large yet delicate features, he bore a striking resemblance to his second daughter.
More precisely, Aracila resembled her father.
“What is it, Marquis?”
“I have something to say to you.”
After a brief, awkward cough, the Marquis offered a gentle smile and extended his hand.
“I entrust my daughter to you, my lord.”
When he smiled, father and daughter looked even more alike. After a moment’s hesitation, Damian lightly grasped his hand before promptly releasing it.
“I always wished for that child to safely achieve her dreams beneath my protection, free to pursue what she desired. But I suppose children never turn out as parents hope.”
A lonely smile flickered across the Marquis’s lips before vanishing. His expression shifted back to that of a dignified noble as he spoke.
“Please honor the words you spoke during dinner—about letting Aracila remain free.”
“Don’t worry. That was always my intention.”
Though the Hugo family didn’t know it, his marriage to Aracila was purely contractual.
Thus, Damian had no desire to interfere with whatever she chose to do after marriage.
In fact, it would be better if she simply minded her own business, avoiding any chance to exert influence over him.
“Good. Thank you.”
The Marquis patted Damian’s shoulder twice before heading back inside. Left alone, Damian glanced curiously at his own shoulder.
From the very beginning, he’d noticed that compared to other noble houses, House of Marquis Hugo had an unusually warm family atmosphere—affection and bonds evident even in trivial exchanges.
‘The complete opposite of House Vandermir.’
Seeing Aracila appear down the corridor, Damian suddenly wondered:
What thoughts might a woman raised in such a home have upon seeing her own family?
“You must have been very loved while growing up, my lady.”
He blurted out impulsively, gazing steadily at Aracila, who’d come to see him off.
“No? Not ‘very’—I was loved immensely.”
Her reply held no trace of doubt or hesitation. Damian let out a breathless chuckle.
“So that’s why you’re always so confident.”
“That’s simply my personality. Though I admit, having my family’s trust makes me even more confident.”
Without a supportive family behind her, even Aracila would have faltered—she knew that better than anyone.
“Is your eccentric personality due to being a mage, then?”
“What are you talking about? That’s absurd.”
Spotting Damian’s carriage approaching, Aracila offered her hand.
“You worked hard today. Please travel home safely.”
“My lady, have a pleasant evening.”
Yet again, Damian didn’t take her hand, merely giving a brief nod instead.
Aracila’s lips twitched.
“My lord, may I ask one thing? Is your refusal to shake my hand some sort of special treatment?”
“I’ve never refused only your handshake.”
“I felt that way.”
Aracila’s eyes widened—she’d witnessed from afar as her father and Damian shook hands. But Damian responded as if it were nothing.
“Then it must be your paranoia, my lady.”
Hah—just listen to him. Her crookedly upturned lips trembled slightly.
“Could your obnoxious personality be due to being a knight?”
“I’d say I was born this way.”
Damian shot back without yielding, making himself even more unbearable. Annoyed, Aracila waved her hand dismissively.
“Fine. Do I need to prepare or be careful about anything for tomorrow?”
“You only need to be prepared to take your thorny younger son with you.”
And that resolve would likely need to be firmer than Damian’s had been today.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He bowed politely before boarding his carriage and departing.
Male lead Asks for a Divorce Every Day
It’s not often you come across a plot like this in the female-dominant genre — make sure to check it out!
This is a novel I’m planning to reread as well.
The male lead is strong, skilled in martial arts, and not the usual fragile type you often see in matriarchal novels.
Meanwhile, the female lead is a scientist—rational and logical. Even when she falls for the male lead, she doesn’t let her emotions cloud her decisions.
If you push through the first few chapters, you’ll gradually find the story really intriguing.
It has a mix of mystery, detective elements, and romance.
The author’s writing style is like crafting a puzzle—except they deliberately leave out a few pieces, making it hard to predict what happens next, yet keeping you hooked.
In the end, everything will come together and be explained.
One-sentence summary: Wife, stop playing with beakers and look at me!
In a laboratory accident, research scientist Zhu Wansheng accidentally travels to a matriarchal world. The original owner of the body is an eighteen-year-old only daughter of a wealthy rouge merchant, already married with a handsome young man.
Zhu Wansheng grins: Nice! She always said she was heaven’s favorite granddaughter. After a life of toil in her previous life, she can enjoy blessings in this one.
However, her joy lasts no more than three seconds as bad news arrives: the original owner’s family is about to go bankrupt, and her husband wants a divorce.
Even worse, she’s stuck with a research system full of restrictions.
Zhu Wansheng: ? Is this the destiny of a research dog?
——
Faced with this mess, Zhu Wansheng pours herself a bowl of wine to drown her sorrows. In her drunken haze, her husband arrives.
His figure is imposing, holding a long sword, with a dignified air that captivates Zhu Wansheng.
Gu Yingqing, however, looks at the alcohol-reeking Zhu Wansheng with undisguised disgust and coldly asks, “Divorce or not?” The intoxicated Zhu Wansheng mumbles vaguely, “I think… it’s not… it’s not… impossible!”
——
The next day, after sobering up, Zhu Wansheng is full of energy, rolling up her sleeves ready to make a big move. As for yesterday? She has no memory of it.
Zhu Wansheng is ambitious; a research dog fears nothing!
Upgrading rouge, extracting fragrances, producing perfumes, researching lipsticks… all shall bow to the power of modern technology!
The original owner’s dying rouge shop is revitalized. Her mother is pleased and with a wave of her hand, passes on the family business to her. As she takes control and her experimental results gain popularity, it’s the pinnacle of her life…
——
But there are always those who can’t stand to see her doing well. Jealousy, scheming, assassination attempts – they want nothing less than her life.
The person who has always kept his distance from her suddenly holds her tightly in his arms, eyes full of concern.
She is unharmed, but he falls into a pool of blood…
Zhu Wansheng feels guilty, “I can grant you one wish.”
Gu Yingqing tentatively circles his arms around her, carefully resting his head in the crook of her neck, pleading softly, “I regret it. Can we not divorce?”
Zhu Wansheng: ? When did I agree to a divorce?
[Small Theater]
The newly developed rouge is beautifully packaged, and Zhu Wansheng is eager to try it.
Gu Yingqing suddenly appears: “My lady, may I apply it for you?”
Cool fingertips lightly brush her lips. His Adam’s apple bobs as he leans in for a light bite.
Zhu Wansheng: ?
Gu Yingqing: It smells so good, I wanted to taste it…
On a warm spring day, Zhu Wansheng tries a new perfume: “Spring Night.” Gu Yingqing corners her against a wall.
Warm breath lingers on her neck.
“My lady, from now on, may I test the fragrances for you?”
[Humorous female scientist vs scheming live-in son-in-law male lead]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
Thank you for translating/sharing this. Such an adorable story!