Shen Jintang caught a glimpse of her own flushed eyes in the mirror, like clouds dyed red by the sunset. Embarrassed and annoyed, she tried to pry his hands off her waist, attempting to change the subject: "Stop fooling around! The auspicious hour is approaching, and you, the bride, haven't even put on your veil yet..."
Before she could finish speaking, the world spun around her, and Gu Zhixing had already pinned her down on the wedding bed covered with a bright red brocade quilt.
The brocade quilt was embroidered with intricate patterns and was dazzlingly red, like a burning flame.
Gu Zhixing pulled up the embroidered mandarin duck veil with one hand, and the red silk fell like clouds, enveloping the two in a hazy light and shadow, as if isolating them from the whole world.
“Now we have it.” He gently traced the still-unhealed wound on her lips with his fingertips, his eyes deep and unfathomable, as if hiding endless secrets. “We still need a groom to lift the veil.”
Suddenly, the matchmaker's loud voice rang out from outside the window: "Please, bride, leave your home—"
Upon hearing the voice, Shen Jintang knew that the people from Qingyakou had arrived. Her heart sank, and she hurriedly pushed him, saying, "Get up quickly! The bridal sedan chair is at the door!"
A dark glint flashed in Gu Zhixing's eyes. He reluctantly got up, but his fingertips still hooked around the belt around Shen Jintang's waist. With a gentle tug, he pulled her a little closer.
"What's the rush?" he chuckled, his voice still slightly hoarse. "Miss Qi doesn't want to get married anyway, so what's wrong with making them wait a little longer?"
Shen Jintang glared at him and slapped his hand away: "Even if it's a fake act, it has to be real. If we give ourselves away, wouldn't all our plans over the past few days be for nothing?"
She quickly straightened his crumpled clothes and then reached out to smooth out the fine wrinkles on his wedding dress.
The bright red wedding dress made Gu Zhixing's features appear even more profound, but he had a smile on his lips and a carefree attitude, not at all like a bride.
"Lower your head." Shen Jintang dipped her fingertip in rouge and gently touched his lips. "It got smudged earlier, let me touch it up." She said softly, her voice gentle.
Gu Zhixing was unusually obedient, bending down slightly to let her do as she pleased, but his gaze remained fixed on her face, as if he wanted to etch every detail of her into his heart.
When she purses her lips, a small dimple appears on her cheek, and her long eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings. Her focused expression is exceptionally moving, as if the whole world has shrunk to just the two of them.
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