The World Ends In 27 Days

Zhiyi learned there would be five hundred guests when Jingwei placed the security plan beside her breakfast.

She had expected a marriage registration office, two witnesses and whatever additional documentation was necessary to establish that she and Hanchuan were legally married. A ceremony might require more people, but the number would depend upon the venue and whether Hanchuan considered social recognition necessary after the registration became official.

Five hundred exceeded every estimate she had considered.

Zhiyi looked at the seating diagram covering the first page. "Why are there forty-eight tables?"

"Two have been removed since this was printed," Jingwei said. "There are fifty now."

That didn’t improve the calculation.

She turned the page and found three separate entrances, a secured arrival route and designated positions for more guards than had protected the Liang family’s entire banquet. A second diagram identified a press area beside the main ballroom.

Zhiyi stopped.

"Why is there a press area?"

Hanchuan drank his coffee before answering. "Because the press is attending."

"How many reporters?"

"Thirty inside the venue. The rest will remain beyond the security barrier."

The existence of the rest suggested that thirty didn’t represent the total number invited.

Zhiyi returned to the first page and began again. Five hundred guests. Fifty tables. Thirty reporters inside. An unknown number outside. Separate arrival routes, controlled entrances, camera positions and an area labeled OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHS.

Ten days no longer appeared to be an unnecessarily long delay.

"Hanchuan said we were getting married," she explained to Jingwei. "He didn’t say it was a public event."

"I’m saying it now," Hanchuan replied.

He closed the distance between their chairs and rested one hand against the back of hers. The bruises on her arms had begun fading from purple to dark blue, but he still avoided placing pressure anywhere near them.

Zhiyi looked at him. "Why?"

The question could have referred to the guests, the reporters or the scale of the security plan. Hanchuan answered all three.

"Because I’m not hiding you."

"I didn’t think you were."

"Your family did."

That was true.

Meilin had concluded that Zhiyi lived secretly with a much older man who paid for her clothing and kept her according to conditions no respectable woman would accept. Her father had attempted to describe the situation as an embarrassing misunderstanding until he discovered the man was Hanchuan.

A private marriage wouldn’t correct the assumptions of anyone outside the ceremony.

It would only create different ones.

Hanchuan turned her chair until she faced him completely.

"I spent seven years with you and died without anyone knowing what you were to me," he said. "I’m not doing that again."

Their relationship in the previous life had never required a name. They shared food, shelter, decisions and every plan that still mattered after the rest of the world disappeared. By the third year, Zhiyi slept beside him more often than she slept alone, although neither of them had identified when the arrangement changed.

Other survivors had called them partners.

The word had been right, even if it didn’t feel right.

"This time, no one will wonder whether you’re temporarily staying in my house or whether I brought you into my life because you were useful," Hanchuan continued. "You’re going to be my wife, and everyone will know that I’m proud of it."

Zhiyi examined his face.

There was no uncertainty for her to isolate. He wasn’t marrying her privately and informing people afterward because he considered the legal status sufficient. He wanted witnesses.

Five hundred of them.

"Is that why there are reporters from outside the country?"

"Yes."

Jingwei had included an international press list behind the security diagrams. Hanchuan apparently intended the announcement to reach people who possessed no reason to care whom he married.

"The venue could hold more than five hundred," Shichen said from across the table. He had spent the previous evening reviewing the ballroom Hanchuan selected at one of Pei Holdings’ hotels. "We limited the guest list because the press and security zones reduce the usable floor area."

Hanchuan’s expression suggested he still objected to the limitation.

Zhiyi looked at the floor plan. "How many people did you intend to invite?"

"More."

That wasn’t a number.

Before she could ask again, Zeyu entered carrying garment bags and followed by three employees from the same boutique that had prepared her for the Liang banquet.

He placed the bags across the back of an empty chair. "The first wedding dresses will arrive for fitting this afternoon. These are for the engagement photographs."

Zhiyi looked down at the ring on her hand.

"We’re already engaged."

"The photographs announce it."

"Hanchuan just said the wedding would announce it."

"The engagement announcement happens first. Then the wedding confirms that he gave you no opportunity to escape."

Hanchuan smiled without denying it.

The process appeared to contain more stages than the legal requirements justified.

Zeyu opened one garment bag and removed a pale dress with a simple fitted waist. It was less elaborate than the gown she wore to the Liang banquet but still unsuitable for inspecting warehouses.

"How many outfits require my approval?" Zhiyi asked.

"Three for the engagement photographs, one for the registration, one for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding gown."

"There’s a rehearsal dinner?"

"Five hundred people can’t be trusted to stand in the correct place without practice."

That sounded reasonable.

Hanchuan intervened before Zeyu could reveal another event. "You don’t need to organize any of this."

"I’m participating in it."

"You need to choose what you wear and tell me if there’s anything you don’t want. Everything else belongs to someone I’m paying."

That reduced the number of decisions but didn’t remove them.

Zhiyi looked toward Qinghe. "How long does a wedding ceremony take?"

"The ceremony itself can remain under thirty minutes," he assured her. "The reception is longer, but you won’t be required to stand through it."

He had already reviewed the schedule for meals, breaks and the amount of time she would spend surrounded by people. A private room had been added beside the ballroom so she could leave the noise without leaving the event. The photography schedule contained fixed beginning and ending times. Interviews had been removed completely.

Shichen had altered the ballroom approach to prevent guests from surrounding her as she entered. Jingwei controlled who could move beyond the reception area. Zeyu had apparently declared war on every piece of clothing she currently owned.

None of them were treating themselves as part of the marriage.

They were supporting Hanchuan while he married her.

Jingwei turned to the section marked WEDDING PARTY and placed four names beside Hanchuan’s.

Rong Jingwei.

Song Zeyu.

Liang Shichen.

Wen Qinghe.

"You’re all groomsmen," Zhiyi said.

Zeyu looked offended by the obviousness of the statement. "Who else would he ask?"

Hanchuan had known the four men for most of his life. They had survived the beginning of the previous apocalypse together and were rebuilding the same core unit now. Their position beside him required no additional meaning.

The marriage belonged to Hanchuan and Zhiyi.

The men standing with him belonged to his life.

An employee from Pei Holdings entered with a tablet requiring Hanchuan’s authorization. The screen contained the final wording of the public statement.

Zhiyi read it before he signed.

Pei Holdings is pleased to announce the engagement of President Pei Hanchuan to Miss Qiao Zhiyi. Their wedding will take place in nine days in the presence of family, friends and invited members of the international press.

There was no mention of the apocalypse, the seven years they had already spent together or the warehouse where Hanchuan told her she was marrying him.

Those parts didn’t belong to the world.

The certainty did.

Hanchuan signed the statement and returned the tablet.

Within minutes, the announcement appeared on every major business and entertainment platform in the country. International outlets repeated it. Photographs of Hanchuan filled screens beside questions about the unknown university student who had become the fiancée of the country’s most eligible bachelor.

Zhiyi watched the number of articles increase.

By noon, people on the other side of the world knew that Pei Hanchuan intended to marry her.

She was no longer a secret.