The blue felt carpet led to the wedding hall, with one end of the red cord tied to Qing Yan.
The veil was lifted with a scale, and before Mei Lin even raised her eyes, she heard gasps from the crowd, likely surprised by the bride’s beauty.
Mei Lin was never unattractive, but after being meticulously adorned, the pallor of her complexion had been concealed, leaving only a captivating, delicate beauty. She knew how to downplay her presence when needed, and equally, she understood how to make herself shine.
Today was her wedding day. She naturally had to be the most beautiful woman in the room.
She slowly lifted her long lashes, and like any typical new bride, her dark, clear eyes held a hint of shyness as she first looked at the groom standing beside her, ready to perform the wedding rites.
The guests who came to the wedding were surely there out of respect for him, but in their hearts, they were probably mocking her and Qing Yan. She didn't care about their gazes, but from this day forward, she and Qing Yan were family—there was no place for anyone to mock him.
Sure enough, as she glanced around, the guests who had heard rumors of the groom being swapped began to harbor doubts, and even Qing Yan seemed momentarily stunned.
Qing Yan, dressed in the groom’s red wedding attire, looked refined and handsome, his soft features making him resemble a gentle nobleman rather than a formidable royal eunuch. When he met her gaze, he was briefly taken aback, then responded with a warm smile, though there was a faint sadness and guilt in his expression.
Mei Lin’s lips curved slightly as she returned his gentle smile. Then, under the guidance of the master of ceremonies, they began the wedding rites.
First, they bowed to heaven and earth. She observed the various expressions of the guests, none of which showed any goodwill.
Next, they bowed to their elders. Since neither of them had parents present, they bowed to their lord, Murong Jing He. She noted Murong Jing He’s tense, cold expression, Luo Mei’s smug, disdainful look, and Yue Qin’s shocked disbelief.
Finally, the couple bowed to each other. Now, her eyes focused solely on Qing Yan’s face, which maintained its warm smile throughout, though the underlying sadness became more pronounced. When a tall figure, hiding behind a pillar, suddenly bolted away after watching them bow, that sadness deepened further.
Mei Lin felt a heaviness in her heart, and as she rose, her vision darkened slightly. Just as she feared she might embarrass herself in front of everyone, a warm hand steadied her, preventing her from stumbling, though it elicited a round of teasing laughter from the crowd.
That hand replaced the red cord, holding her own, which had been cold to the bone from the start, and gently led her to the bridal chamber. Watching the slender yet upright figure walking ahead of her, she felt a moment of peace. She knew her time was short and didn't want to burden him.
“Elder sister!” Yue Qin’s breathless shout came from behind them; clearly, he couldn't understand what was happening and had chased after them.
Mei Lin turned back and smiled sweetly—a smile that was neither sorrowful nor bleak. The bright red of her bridal attire stood out starkly against the white snow, like a blossoming red lotus. Yue Qin was so mesmerized that he didn’t snap out of it until the couple had walked far away, surrounded by the crowd.
“Elder sister is doing this willingly. She... she must be happy, right?”
He turned back to look at the man who should have been the groom but had inexplicably become the officiant. Just in time, he saw a teacup shatter in Murong Jing He’s hand, with the tea mixed with red blood seeping through his fingers, staining his luxurious sleeve. Yet, his handsome face remained stiff, as if he couldn’t feel the pain.
Yue Qin scratched his head, utterly confused.
Late at night, the commotion had finally subsided.
Murong Jing He paced his room like a trapped beast, his mind constantly replaying Mei Lin’s radiant appearance as a bride, the look she gave Qing Yan, and her final bright smile at Yue Qin. From beginning to end, her gaze had never lingered on him. Even when they accidentally met eyes, her expression remained indifferent—neither joyful nor angry, treating him like anyone else. But when she looked at Qing Yan, her gaze softened with unmistakable tenderness.
He had never realized how unbearable it would be when her gaze no longer rested on him. He didn’t know why, but until today, her gaze had always followed him. Even when she knew he had deliberately made her mute, even after he had injured her for Luo Mei, her eyes had never left him. Until... until this morning, when she said they would have nothing more to do with each other.
"Nothing more to do with each other..."
A surge of indescribable frustration welled up inside him, accompanied by a suffocating pain in his chest. Murong Jing He involuntarily leaned against the desk by the window, pressing a hand to his chest as he bent slightly.
"From now on, we have nothing to do with each other." The words echoed in his ears like a curse, intertwining with the image of Mei Lin’s tender, bashful glance at Qing Yan. The pressure in his chest grew unbearable, and with a sudden sweep of his arm, he knocked everything off the desk. When he looked up, his eyes fell on the blooming plum blossoms outside the window. The flowers, vibrant as flames against the dark night and snow, were originally elegant and exquisite, but now they only fueled his irritation. His frustration intensified, and with a forceful palm strike, he sent the window, along with the beautiful plum blossoms, crashing into the snow.
"What’s the matter? Regretting your decision?" Luo Mei’s voice suddenly drifted from outside the window, her tone cold yet carrying an almost imperceptible hint of melancholy.
Murong Jing He stood there, rigid, his gaze passing through the window to another courtyard, but he didn’t respond.
“Jing He, you’re regretting it, aren’t you?” Luo Mei’s calm facade finally cracked, and her beautiful figure appeared at the window, staring intently at the man inside as she repeated her question. She couldn’t believe he had truly changed his mind. She refused to believe he had genuinely fallen for that cowardly woman. Over the past five years, countless beauties had come and gone in his life, many of them exceptional, yet he had never shown true affection for any of them. He had always waited for her, so how could he have changed his heart in just one or two months? And for a spy who had once betrayed him, no less.
Murong Jing He slowly withdrew his gaze, looking at the woman before him—this woman he had once pursued relentlessly, even in the most adverse circumstances. He saw the faint trace of sorrow that had somehow appeared on her usually proud face, the unease flickering in her captivating eyes, and felt a surprising calm wash over him.
“I have never regretted anything I’ve done,” he said coolly. “It’s late. You should go and rest.”
With that, he abruptly turned away from the window, grabbing a cloak as he headed for the door.
“Summon Qing Yan. I’m going out,” he ordered the guard silently trailing behind him as he stepped onto the snow-covered steps outside, paying no attention to Luo Mei still standing by the window.
The guard stiffened, his expression briefly flickering with uncertainty, but he dared not question the order. He quickly rushed toward the courtyard where the newlyweds were.
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