In a cautionary tale that has sparked widespread debate across Chinese social media, a 32-year-old bachelor from Zhejiang province discovered that rushing into marriage can lead to consequences far more complex than the timeline of the union itself. Surnamed Gu, the man entered matrimony with a 30-year-old woman from Shaanxi after minimal acquaintance, only to initiate divorce proceedings within nine days when a series of undisclosed facts emerged about his new spouse.

The chain of events leading to this rapid courtship began with parental expectations. Gu, an only child, felt mounting pressure from his family to settle down and married life. He registered with a local matchmaking centre in Zhejiang, paying 200 yuan for their services. The centre attempted to introduce him to three local women, but each declined to proceed further. When these local introductions failed to produce results, the matchmaker pivoted strategy, suggesting that Gu consider women from distant provinces and promising an expedited marriage arrangement within a mere two days.

With his family's blessing, Gu was introduced to the Shaanxi woman in April through what the matchmaking centre presented as a carefully vetted profile. The documentation claimed she was debt-free, had no criminal history, and possessed no serious medical conditions or genetic disorders. The profile explicitly stated she was amenable to a "flash marriage" and relocating far from her home province—a profile that appeared tailored to Gu's circumstances. Yet despite these assurances, the actual due diligence process was remarkably superficial.

The interaction between Gu and his prospective bride consisted of a five-minute video conversation. During this brief encounter, Gu posed questions about her employment and family background, though it was the matchmaker who answered most of his inquiries rather than the woman herself. She mentioned working as a salesperson, a detail that would later require verification. The matchmaker promised that both a comprehensive credit history report and a premarital medical examination would be provided before the marriage was officially registered—commitments that proved hollow.

Fortified by what appeared to be methodical vetting, Gu and his family made their decision with remarkable haste. They committed to the marriage despite never meeting the woman in person, investing a staggering total of 265,000 yuan into the arrangement. This sum included a 100,000-yuan bride price—a traditional gift to the bride's family—and a substantial 160,000-yuan fee paid directly to the matchmaking centre. The family arranged for the matchmaker to escort the woman to Zhejiang for the marriage registration.

Three days following their initial video call, Gu and the woman completed their marriage registration at the civil affairs office. Notably, his family did not meet her parents or conduct any independent verification of her background. The speed of this process reflected less thoughtful deliberation and more the transactional nature of the arrangement brokered by the matchmaking centre, which had financial incentives to complete introductions quickly.

Cracks in the arrangement emerged almost immediately after the marriage was officially registered. The matchmaker failed to deliver the promised credit report and premarital medical examination results. When Gu took matters into his own hands and visited a bank to verify his wife's financial standing, he received a shocking revelation: she carried outstanding debts totalling 100,000 yuan. She explained that these debts originated from her previous romantic relationship and bore no connection to her personal financial responsibility. Additionally, Gu discovered discrepancies in identity details when he noticed that the name associated with her mobile payment application—which requires real-name verification in China—differed from the identity under which he believed he had married her.

The revelations continued to unfold. One day after discovering the debt situation, his new wife disclosed a liver enzyme imbalance that required her to lose weight, though she claimed this condition would not affect her fertility. Within a week of marriage, the combination of these hidden issues had eroded Gu's confidence entirely. Nine days after their registration, he demanded a divorce, citing the cascade of undisclosed information and the apparent breach of the matchmaker's assurances.

What followed was an unexpected legal complication. The woman initially seemed amenable to his divorce request but subsequently reversed course, filing her own divorce petition instead. She claimed that his demand for divorce had triggered depression, a condition for which she provided medical documentation. Armed with this diagnosis, she filed a compensation claim demanding 50,000 yuan from Gu, asserting that he had imposed unreasonable expectations regarding her appearance, household responsibilities, and employment status.

Simultaneously, Gu pursued legal action against the matchmaking centre, demanding reimbursement of the 160,000-yuan fee he had paid for their introduction services. The matchmaker refused to provide any refund, arguing that since Gu had successfully married the woman they introduced, the contract had been fulfilled as specified. The matchmaker further suggested that the couple's sudden desire for divorce coupled with compensation claims indicated they may have fabricated the marital discord solely to reclaim their financial investment.

The case has ignited considerable commentary online, with observers highlighting the stark gap between the speed of the decision and the gravity of marriage as a life commitment. Social media users have drawn parallels between the couple's experience and fictional drama narratives, suggesting that real events had become stranger and more contrived than popular entertainment. Critics have emphasized that marriage requires far more contemplation than a weekend shopping decision, and that parental pressure should never override individual judgment in such consequential matters. The case serves as a potent reminder for other young people in the region about the pitfalls of accelerated courtship, particularly when financial incentives and family expectations override due diligence and genuine personal connection.