Yet she could do it, as if she had calculated her exam scores. Once she reached a certain number of points, any further wrong answers didn’t matter. When asked why, she simply said that lazy people were like that.
When elders warned her that her grades meant she couldn’t get into university and began preparing to send her to study in England, she miraculously gained admission to HKUST (Hong Kong University of Science and Technology) with a score that just met the admission standard. When asked why, she smiled and said she didn’t want to leave Hong Kong.
“Xuanxuan,” seeing her spiritless appearance, he felt heartbroken for his pure and undemanding sister. He embraced her, offering silent support. “Whatever you want to do, your brother will help you. Why don’t you go to England temporarily and come back when things are clear?”
“No need, Brother Yifeng,” her voice muffled in his embrace. “This would make Dad uncomfortable.”
“Xuanxuan, this concerns your lifelong happiness. I don’t think Second Uncle would blame you,” Tong Yifeng couldn’t understand her persistence.
Ou Xueman buried her face in his embrace. After a long time, she said, “Brother, I love him.”
Tong Yifeng sighed, knowing that emotions were difficult to understand. He gently said, “Xuanxuan, remember, no matter what happens, you must tell your brother. Your brother will always help you.”
“Mm, thank you, Brother Yifeng.” She curled up in his embrace, gathering courage to face the misty future that felt fragile.
When darkness filled the room and she was left alone, she picked up her phone, staring at the familiar number but unable to press the dial button. She wanted to ask if he had ever loved her, but feared the answer. She kept turning the phone screen on and off, losing track of time. When she finally noticed, the moon had set, and faint morning light began to disperse the darkness.
Sleepless, she walked barefoot to the window, gazing at the brightening sky, her heart shrouded in uncertainty, hoping the rising sun could dispel the haze.
Was she really going to gamble with her true heart and happiness? If she won, fine; if she lost, could she bear the hurt?
Placing her hands over her heart, she whispered, “Can I do this?” The only response was the silence of the room and the thundering of her own heartbeat.
[From Chapter Six: The Provocative Woman]
The pure white palace-style wedding dress was simple yet exquisitely detailed.
With light makeup and a pearl veil covering her face, the bride’s shy demeanor was endearing.
Watching the people adjust her dress, she said softly, “You can leave now. I want to be alone. Come back when the ceremony is about to begin.”
“Miss Tong, are you nervous? That’s understandable,” one said with a smile. The others offered encouraging smiles before leaving the waiting room.
Lowering her eyes to the bouquet in her hands, she thought, I’m getting married, but why does it feel so unreal?
The woman in the mirror was full-figured. In her youth, who doesn’t wish for a graceful figure? She had dreamed of wearing a flowing dress, dancing, and captivating many. But how would he see her?
A self-deprecating smile crossed her lips. Looking at the small window, sunlight filtered through, carrying distant sounds of commotion, knowing today’s wedding was of great media interest.
But this made her uneasy. Despite overcoming her inner barriers, her fears surged again. Her hands holding the bouquet became damp with sweat. Just as she felt overwhelmed by anxiety, a loud commotion broke out, and the door was pushed open.
A woman in a black tight-fitting strapless dress stood in the doorway, her makeup unable to hide her jealousy. She swayed confidently, embodying the day’s main character.
It was Han Bing; Ou Xueman knew why she was here.
Ou Xueman signaled for those outside to close the door. This arrival distracted her from unnecessary speculation.
Han Bing had come to provoke her, but Ou Xueman would not be easily bullied. This woman would soon experience her true nature.
Suppressing her wounded feelings, she said, “It’s inevitable for a man to have a romantic history before marriage; it’s a physiological need.”
“You… you’re saying I’m just an object for his release?” Han Bing was enraged, raising her hand to slap Ou Xueman. But Ou Xueman was faster, and with a loud slap, her fingers marked Han Bing’s face.
Han Bing stared in shock, never expecting this usually quiet and timid person to strike her.
Ou Xueman gripped Han Bing’s chin tightly, saying fiercely, “Miss Han, regardless of your relationship with Xi Huang, remember this: today’s bride is me; I am his wife, and you are just one of his many women. You’re not qualified to step on my face.” She pointed to the door. “Get out.”
Intimidated, Han Bing covered her cheek and backed away, still threatening, “I’ll tell Xi Huang about your true nature, you shrew.”
Left alone, Ou Xueman slowly collapsed to the ground, her previous momentum gone, as if all her strength had been used in that slap. Tears slowly formed in her eyes, blurring her vision.
After an indeterminate time, a knock on the door came, and Tong Baichuan’s loving voice called, “Xuan Xuan, are you ready? Dad’s here to pick you up.”
Ou Xueman quickly wiped away her tears, touched up her makeup, cleared her throat, and replied, “Dad, I’m coming.”
She stood up, straightened her dress, and took several deep breaths. No matter what she would face in the future, she could only continue forward, even if it meant facing a thousand-foot abyss.
[From: Not Wanting to Say I Love You: Chapter 7 – Wedding]
Outside, Tong Baichuan looked worried but smiled when she appeared.
“Xuan Xuan? Why did you lock yourself inside?” Tong Baichuan couldn’t help but ask, having heard that Han Bing had been there, casting a meaningful glance towards the end of the hallway.
Ou Xueman hooked her arm in his, acting coquettish, “I was just a bit nervous and wanted to be alone.”
“Hehe… well, it’s a major life event, being nervous is unavoidable. But Dad and Mom are right here supporting you,” Tong Baichuan encouraged her.
In Tong Baichuan’s full of love, she found some perseverance, her smile becoming more genuine, “Yes, with Dad and Mom here, I’m not nervous.”
“Okay, let’s go. But be prepared, there are quite a few reporters outside,” Tong Baichuan carefully advised.
Ou Xueman took several deep breaths, smiling sweetly, “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go.”
Their footsteps echoed through the long corridor, and as they moved away, a person emerged from the other end of the hallway.
His black formal jacket was open, wearing a matching vest and white shirt, looking heroic. He reached to adjust his bowtie, a faint smile on his lips, slowly murmuring, “Tong… Yi… Xuan?
Di Xihuang’s low voice was not displeased at all, but rather somewhat excited, which caught her off guard.
Tong Baichuan smiled softly, handing her hand to Di Xihuang.
The moment their hands touched, she felt an unusually cold sensation penetrating her glove, seeping into her palm.
She looked up at him as he led her to the priest. His profile seemed like a mask—perfect yet unreal.
During the ceremony, she did not know what the priest was saying. Her gaze was vacant, staring at the Bible in the priest’s hands. Only when the priest called her did she realize she had been lost in thought for a long time, having missed several calls from him, which caused whispers among the guests.
The priest cleared his throat, silencing the venue, and asked again, “Tong Yixuan, do you willingly marry Di Xihuang, become his wife, and support each other through good and bad, wealth or poverty, sickness or health, loving and cherishing each other until death?”
“I… I…”
