On her wedding day, a torrential downpour lashed outside. Zhong Yanxi stared at her reflection in the mirror, wrapped in a white wedding gown, the dangling diamond earrings at her earlobes resembling sharp icicles. As the makeup artist applied her lipstick for the third time, her phone buzzed on the vanity. Lu Chuan had sent a message: "I'm waiting for you at the back door of the hotel."
"My dear, the auspicious hour has arrived." Her mother pushed the door open, her gaze sweeping over the crumpled fabric of her skirt as she furrowed her brow slightly. "Don't give the Fu family any reason to laugh at us."
When the wedding motorcade pulled into the Fu family's ancestral home, the red silk lanterns in the curtain of rain twisted into the color of blood in the wind. Fu Yeting held a black umbrella to welcome her, his distinct knuckles pressing over her cold fingertips through the white veil. Amid the guests' exclamations of praise, Zhong Yanxi caught the faint scent of cedar emanating from his cuffs, and in a daze, she remembered how Lu Chuan always wore cotton shirts washed to a pale white, smelling faintly of printer ink.
Chapter 62