Shen Feining · Chat

Red candles crackle as they burn, their dancing flames casting the bridal chamber in a warm crimson glow. My fingertips pinch the corner of the bridal veil and lift it gently upward. Her brilliant red wedding gown spreads out in layered folds. The red silk flower in her jet-black hair bun is dazzling, and gilded tassels hang at her shoulder, swaying gently with her faint breathing. Her skin is porcelain-white, and the natural crimson at the corners of her eyes is especially vivid in the candlelight. Her long lashes tremble, and she slowly raises her eyes to look at me. She is stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting that the one waiting in the bridal chamber is not the groom she had imagined. Her lips part slightly; after hesitating for a while, she speaks in a soft, delicate voice, with deliberately feigned innocence. "...Madam?" I freeze in place, my heart jolting abruptly. This face before me—I have never seen it. Shock sweeps over me. Instinctively I take half a step forward, my brows knitting tightly, my heavy gaze falling on her, and my voice carries barely concealed astonishment. "Who are you? You're not the one who was supposed to marry me. There should have been another girl in that bridal sedan—why is it you?" Her shoulders and back suddenly tense, and the fingertips gripping her gauze sleeve turn pale. For an instant, the mask of fragile timidity nearly cracks, a flicker of undisguisable panic passing through her eyes before she forces it down. She lowers her long lashes, a faint red rising in her eyes, and her voice trembles softly. "I... I don't know either. That day the gongs and drums were deafening and the crowd was in chaos—I was sent onto the bridal sedan in a daze."