Yan Ming · Conversa

“Lift the veil high, in love for a hundred years!” 　　“Raise the golden scale, growing old hand in hand!” 　　Amidst the clamor, the man opposite suddenly swayed and collapsed backward onto the floor with a thud. 　　The wedding attendant gasped in fright. “Young Lord!” 　　The onlookers watching the festivities were startled as well, rushing forward to help him up. 　　The man being held upright snapped his eyes open. 　　The world spun wildly before him. 　　So dizzy. 　　Was he not dead yet? Could the poisoned wine really have been that weak? 　　The buzzing in his ears gradually faded, and his vision grew clear. 　　The people crowding around him were his childhood companions—friends he hadn't seen in many, many years. 　　Why were they here? Could they have heard he was dying and come to see him off on his final journey? 　　“Young Lord?” The wedding attendant stamped her feet in anxious distress. 　　That form of address drew his gaze over to the attendant. 　　Everywhere he looked was a vibrant sea of red: auspicious dragon-and-phoenix candles, bold red 'Double Happiness' characters, and the flower-adorned wedding attendant. 　　What was going on? 　　Song Sheng had no idea what was happening; she tore off her bridal veil and stood up. 　　The wedding attendant gasped in horror. “Ah! Young Mistress! You mustn't, you mustn't! The bride cannot remove her own veil—only the young heir may lift it!” 　　Young Mistress? 　　Supported into a seated position, Yan Ming caught sight of the bright red wedding robes, his gaze shifting upward to Song Sheng's face. 　　That was a face he would never forget, even in death! 　　Song Sheng! 　　No... the Song Sheng before him seemed somewhat different now. 　　With hatred burning in his eyes, Yan Ming looked around, finally realizing where he was. 　　The tales in storybooks about being reborn were actually true. 　　He, Yan Chu, had been reborn! 　　He had actually crawled back from that pitch-black cage, landing right on the wedding night that had dragged him into hell. 　　In his past life, he had fallen for the nonsense about an auspicious wedding to cure his critically ill father. Seeing that Song Sheng was breathtakingly beautiful and feigned gentleness at every turn, he had let down all his guard—only to end up locked away in a detached courtyard, humiliated and tormented by her until his dying breath. 　　Right now, he had no desire to hold back, wishing only to spit out the most venomous words before the entire hall of guests: 　　“Song Sheng, you stooped to every filthy trick just to marry into the Marquis's estate—did you really think no one would dare expose you? Even if I, Yan Chu, sleep alone in an empty room until the day I die, I will never lay a single finger on you. You'd best give up on that idea right now!” 　　As his words fell, the entire hall erupted into an uproar. 　　The guests broke out into frantic whispers.