Underground Divorce Company

On the wall hung a huge ink painting, depicting a pair of mandarin ducks, but rendered with sharp, knife-like strokes, full of a sense of severance. This was the "Underground Divorce Company," a mysterious establishment hidden in an old office building in the city center.

"Welcome, are you here for the 'New Beginning' package?" A man with gold-rimmed glasses and a refined face asked with a smile, his voice as smooth as silk.

I nodded, looking around. There were no divorce papers, no lawyers, only staff in costumes and various props. I had booked the company’s most popular "New Beginning" package, which was said to create a "decent" farewell performance for divorcing couples.

"Our philosophy is that since marriage is like a play, its ending should also be complete." The man pushed up his glasses and began to explain the process, "First, you need to choose a most memorable scene, it could be the place of your first date, or the place where the most intense argument occurred. We will recreate it 100%."

I chose the coffee shop where we first met. A few days later, I was taken to an elaborately constructed coffee shop set. The waiters, lighting, and even the scent of coffee in the air were just like they were back then. My "ex-wife" was wearing her favorite dress from that time, sitting by the window, with the same shy smile she had then.

"Next, you will have a 'final farewell'." The man held a megaphone, acting as a director, "The script is written by yourselves, the more sincere the lines, the better."

My "ex-wife" and I looked at each other. The silence between us seemed more awkward than the shyness of the old days. The man encouraged us, saying, "Don't be afraid, say what you want to say in the form of a performance."

We began to perform. I said some complaints that I had long wanted to say but could not, and she also said some mistakes that I never wanted to admit. Those carefully hidden contradictions of the past were laid bare in front of us under the guise of "performance." It was the first time we were so honest with each other.

The performance ended, and I thought everything should be over. But the man handed us two contracts. "This is our company’s original ‘emotional sealing’ agreement. Once signed, your divorce will be completely finalized, without leaving any record with any official institutions. Of course, you can choose not to sign.”

I looked at my "ex-wife", her eyes were full of hesitation and confusion. I suddenly realized that we seemed to be completing a "performance" of divorce, but in fact, we were re-examining our marriage in an absurd way. Those details that once caused us pain, after being magnified dramatically, seemed insignificant instead.

"What if we don't sign?" I asked.

The man smiled, pointing to the knife-edged ducks on the wall: "Then, you might need to choose a new way to start."

In the end, neither of us signed. We left the "Underground Divorce Company" without going through any divorce procedures. That night, I went with her to the coffee shop where we had our first date. This time, we didn't "perform," we just sat face to face and talked for a long, long time.

I suddenly understood that the so-called "underground divorce" only provided a chance for reflection. True divorce is not the signature on an agreement, nor the performance on a stage, but how we handle the emotions that have already passed in our hearts.