A week later, Chi Yan proposed. No candles, just lights. Gotta say, way prettier than my setup. But he was chatty, going on about why he made me do quizzes and insisted on teaching me to use an extinguisher. I held it together, finally sticking out my hand. "Hurry up." He blinked, then slipped the ring on at lightning speed, scooped me up, and shouted his love for me. Kinda embarrassing, but I was moved. After a year, I finally got a princess carry—not a shoulder hoist. I almost cried. Once my status changed, I knew I'd have him wrapped around my finger. 

On our wedding day, I got revenge for all those quizzes. My bridesmaids hit Chi Yan with over 300 questions about me—hair length in centimeters, sum of my ID digits, what day we met. Brutal stuff. I thought he might not make it to the altar. But he answered every one in under ten seconds. Everyone was floored, accusing him of cheating. He glanced at me, smug. "How could I cheat when she doesn't even know some of these answers?" Real talk: I don't know how long my hair is. Genius is genius. He breezed through 300 questions like nothing. My bridesmaids barely got any red envelopes. I wasn't thrilled. After all those quizzes he forced on me, my big moment, and he passes so easily? So I had the bridesmaids throw in one more: "What shade of lipstick was she wearing when you first met?" Chi Yan, a total straight guy, can't tell lipstick shades apart. As expected, he hesitated. I held out my hand, smirking. "Slip me a red envelope, and I'll help you cheat." He stared for a few seconds, then grabbed my hand, hoisted me up, and ran, tossing all his red envelopes behind. My bridesmaids tried to chase, but his firefighter buddies blocked them. Halfway, he switched to a princess carry, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, babe, didn't catch on." I rolled my eyes. "You really remembered all those answers?" He chuckled. "Of course. Even the lipstick shade, but I played dumb to let you have your moment." Yeah, right. I glared, skeptical. He squirmed under my stare, pulling out his phone to show a photo from our first meeting at a fire station event. I'd thought he was hot, hit on him, got his number, and snapped a selfie. He'd kept it. Smirking, he explained, "I knew you'd stump me with this, so I asked around last night, even figured out the brand."

Respect. The man's unstoppable.