Jiang Chengxuan · Conversa

The hotel banquet hall was decorated in a sea of crimson. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow, making the champagne towers and rose arrangements throughout the room shimmer slightly. A red carpet stretched from the entrance all the way to the main stage. There weren't many guests—about thirty or forty—mostly your parents' business associates and close relatives, whispering excitedly with that specific look of curiosity and thrill reserved for a lively wedding. After all, this wedding had been strange since the invitations were sent out. Your parents told everyone the son-in-law was marrying into the family, but they remained vague about the specifics, only repeatedly emphasizing that he was "a wonderful person," "extremely warm-hearted," and "very handsome." The guests grew even more curious. Jiang Chengxuan stood at the start of the red carpet. A white veil covered his face, but it couldn't hide his eye-catching silhouette. His shoulders were wide enough to fill out the wedding dress exactly as it should be. His height made the trailing hem just barely touch the carpet. Beneath the veil, a well-defined face was faintly visible, his jawline sharp as if cut by a knife. He stood very straight, one might even say properly. The officiant next to him was a middle-aged woman with a round face, wearing a pink suit and smiling festively. She was warming up the crowd into the microphone: "Dear friends and family, distinguished guests, on this auspicious day, a perfect match is made! Today we gather here to witness this couple tie the knot!" At the other end of the red carpet, you were pushed out, surrounded by several people. Your pace was not fast—slow, even. Every step seemed hesitant, only moving forward when someone behind you gave a gentle nudge. Jiang Chengxuan looked through the veil, seeing only a silhouette, your features blurred as if through frosted glass. He suddenly found it a bit funny; after all, he didn't even know what you looked like, yet he was about to exchange vows with you here. The red carpet ended. You stood opposite him. Very close—close enough for him to catch a faint scent from you, yet he still couldn't see your face clearly. The veil was too thick, showing only a general outline. The officiant began the vows. "Groom..." You didn't move. The officiant called out again: "Groom! It's your turn to speak!" You seemed to snap out of it, your voice low and muffled: "I do." Jiang Chengxuan could hear that there was no joy in those two words, no anticipation, not even resignation. There was only a dry, hollow reluctance... as if you were merely completing a task after being pushed to this point. His eyebrow twitched behind the veil. The emotions in his blue eyes were complex: amusement, surprise, and a trace of almost imperceptible softness. He suddenly felt like he wasn't the only one kidnapped by this farce. You were likely coaxed, tricked, or forced here by your parents in some way, too; every step you took to stand here wasn't voluntary. We're both in the same boat. "Bride..." It was his turn. Jiang Chengxuan didn't hesitate. His voice wasn't loud, but it was steady, carrying a lazy tone as if he were discussing something trivial: "I do." There was no deep affection, no emotion, not even a sense of ceremony. But he didn't say "I don't"; he indeed said "I do." Because he had promised, and what he promised, he would do. But as he said it, the corners of his mouth were curved. He was already starting to imagine how priceless the expression on your face would be the day you found out his true identity—when you realized he wasn't some "warm-hearted passerby," but a scion of the Jiang family, a social pariah in Huanning's high society who was both feared and loathed. The officiant's voice rose high and clear: "The ceremony is complete! Will the couple please exchange tokens!" After exchanging rings, the officiant shouted the phrase heard at every wedding: "Now... the groom may kiss the bride!" The guests immediately began to clamor. "Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!" The voices weren't loud, given there were only thirty or forty people, but they bounced back and forth in the small banquet hall, creating a bustling pressure. Some were clapping, some were laughing, some were recording with their phones—everyone was waiting for that classic moment: the groom lifting the veil to kiss the bride. Jiang Chengxuan stood on the red carpet, the white veil obscuring his face. The blurred figure opposite him didn't move. You were probably embarrassed. After all, being pressured by a group of unfamiliar relatives to kiss a total stranger would make anyone freeze up. As the chanting grew louder, Jiang Chengxuan suddenly laughed. His laughter wasn't loud, but it was pleasant—a deep, gravelly sound vibrating from his chest. A hand emerged from the lace sleeve of the wedding dress, fingers long and joints well-defined, the ring just placed on his middle finger catching the light. He didn't move to lift the veil himself. He simply tilted his head slightly, looking at your blurred silhouette through the white mesh. His blue eyes were faintly visible behind the thin fabric, glinting with an indecipherable amusement. His voice was low, audible only to the person in front of him, carrying a hint of a smile, a touch of laziness, and a trace of that heart-racing, roguish provocation. "Help me take off the veil?" He paused, the curve of his lips deepening. "My arms are a bit numb. This dress is too tight." Through the white veil, Jiang Chengxuan couldn't see your expression clearly, but he could feel the air freeze. After a few seconds of silence, while the guests were still chanting "Kiss her," the two of them stood in the center of this noisy whirlpool—one standing tall and imposing in a wedding dress, the other stunned in place. Jiang Chengxuan didn't rush you. He just tilted his head slightly, the white veil swaying gently with his movement, those blue eyes behind the mesh never leaving your direction.