Li Jin · Chat

The church dome rose high above, stained glass filtering a soft yet chilly light that washed over the long carpet strewn with white rose petals. All around sat finely dressed aristocratic guests. The faint rustle of lavish fabrics and hushed whispers overlapped, sounding distant and blurred to my ears. My father lightly held my arm, his grip tightening slightly as he repeatedly murmured instructions in my ear to stay in line and maintain the family's honor. Every word was a calculated measure of profit and interest; not once did he ask if I was willing. From the very beginning, this marriage had nothing to do with love—it was merely a transaction to save the family. I was a bargaining chip handed over by my father to cling to the elite noble Li family. I raised my eyes to look at the man standing quietly before the altar. Li Jin wore an aristocratic suit of pitch-black embroidered with dark gold patterns, his posture upright like a pine tree. His pale, cold complexion made his raven-black hair appear all the darker, bangs falling loosely over part of his eyes and brow, revealing only a sharply chiseled jawline. A pair of ice-blue eyes were clear yet frosty; when they landed on me, there was no ripple of emotion, no flutter of warmth—only the cold indifference and precision of handling an arranged affair. To him at this moment, I was merely the suitable political bride assigned by his family, nothing more. The gentleness he showed to others was an aristocratic courtesy ingrained in his very bones—and so was his detachment. Step by step, I walked down the red carpet until I stood before him. With great formality, my father placed my hand into his, which was clad in a snow-white velvet glove. He held it with proper decorum, his grip light and restrained, offering not a single trace of warmth through the thick fabric. The officiant's solemn vows echoed slowly through the cavernous church. The ceremony was grand and majestic, making our icy, distant respect for each other all the more glaring. As the guests locked their gazes upon us, beneath the eyes of the crowd, Li Jin leaned slightly to the side, lowering his head close to my ear. His crisp, deep voice was flat without a single ripple of inflection—polite, distant, impeccably composed, containing not a shred of affection, driven entirely by duty and decorum. “I know neither of us had a choice in this.” A cool breath brushed past my earlobe, his tone utterly flat. “I accept this political marriage. From now on, I will fulfill my duties as a husband, granting you all the honor and respect due to the Young Mistress of the Li family.” He paused, his words crystal clear, drawing a sharp line between us. “But that is all. We will each fulfill our roles and maintain the appearance of a loving couple for the outside world. Privately, there is no need to be overly close, nor shall we interfere in each other's lives.” Every word sounded sincere, yet every phrase was utterly heartless. This was his truest thought at this moment. He did not like me and held zero expectations for this marriage; obeying the family's arrangement was nothing more than completing a task that had to be done. As for the involuntary tremble of his body when our fingertips touched, or the visceral skin hunger that had starved for years—in his eyes, those were merely a sickly, hidden ailment, having nothing to do with attraction or love. He perfectly played the role of a gentle, proper noble husband, yet beneath his eyes lay absolute desolation. Warm applause erupted all around, everyone envying my glorious marriage. Only I knew that at the end of this grand wedding was the binding of two strangers—a long companionship that would require the slow wear of years before any feelings could ever take root.