Chapter 10#
His marriage partner sat upright on his sofa, looking like a young gentleman from the Republican era, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He lowered his head to gently smell them, then lifted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth curving upward as he smiled faintly at Nan Shuyi.#
His smile was like a gentle breeze, blowing away all the morning’s unpleasantness. Nan Shuyi froze for a second. The last time he had seen him was at someone else’s banquet, a noisy, social setting—but today was different.
The Jiang family had spent a fortune on this Chinese-style courtyard. Not only was the exterior designed with the essence of a classical garden, but the interior decorations also leaned toward an antique aesthetic.
Jiang Yicen’s room was decorated in a Chinese style. All the furniture, from the sofa to the bed, was solid wood, and even the window frames matched the wood color.
Nan Shuyi felt as though he had traveled back in time to the Republican era. What awaited him was not a student returning from abroad, but a native-born young gentleman from that period, seemingly lost in the modern world—especially in his current long robe and short jacket, which gave off a disorienting sense of time traveling.
Seeing Nan Shuyi standing still at the door, Jiang Yicen called out softly, “Sir?”
Nan Shuyi paused, adjusted his collar—which had been pulled askew in impatience while he was trapped on the stairs—and stood up straight and proper.
Today he wore a light gray, stand-collar, deep blue Zhongshan suit. It retained the traditional stand collar but used hidden snaps for the front placket. The designer had also added subtle bamboo patterns as embellishments. The wedding attire today was chosen by Jiang Yicen—the Zhongshan suit and the long robe with a mandarin jacket distinguished the roles of the two grooms, suggesting that he and Nan Shuyi belonged to different eras. But now, only he himself knew that.
Sir.
Nan Shuyi savored the word in his mind.
Strangers could call each other “sir.” Lovers could also call each other “sir.”
Which meaning did he intend?
Jiang Yiqi: “Groom, only after you find the shoes can you take my brother away.”
Nan Shuyi directly asked Jiang Yicen, “Where are they?”
Jiang Yicen instinctively glanced under the solid wood sofa. Nan Shuyi understood instantly, took two steps forward, bent down, and found the hidden shoes.
Jiang Yiqi: “…” That was way too easy—she had spent twice as long hiding them as he did finding them!
Nan Shuyi knelt on one knee in front of Jiang Yicen, ready to put the shoes on him.
Jiang Yicen shyly pulled his foot back. “I can do it myself.”
Nan Shuyi grasped his ankle and slid the shoe on. “Let’s save time.”
Jiang Yicen felt the warm, large hand gripping his foot, the heat seeping into his skin, as if scalding him, making his body quiver slightly. He rarely let anyone touch his feet; in the past, when a shoemaker came to measure the family’s feet, he always had the butler give the measurements.
After the shoes were on, Nan Shuyi stood up and extended his other hand to Jiang Yicen. “Let’s go.”
Jiang Yicen placed his hand in Nan Shuyi’s, letting himself be pulled up. Nan Shuyi’s fingers were broader than his, but he hadn’t expected the warmth in his hands.
They made it downstairs smoothly. Jiang Yifeng, Zhou Yi, and the others saw the two holding hands, each with a different expression.
Are they really going to pretend this marriage is real? They’re so dedicated!
Zhou Yi thought to himself: My buddy doesn’t seem unhappy with this marriage at all. The way he’s holding his hand so tightly shows he’s the one initiating it.
He knew Nan Shuyi well—no one could force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.
The excitement belonged to the younger generation. Jiang Gongming and He Nuanqing watched from downstairs as the two grooms broke through the crowd of young people, successfully escaped, and got into the car.
Both noticed that Jiang Yicen never once looked back at them. In this lively atmosphere, it was a bit awkward.
The wedding car led the way. Nan Shuyi took Jiang Yicen to the brightest vehicle. On the hood stood two dolls dressed in the same wedding attire as the grooms, with a red heart sewn between them. The front of the car was adorned with heart-shaped red roses, and baby’s breath decorated the door handles, adding a touch of romance.
Jiang Yicen had attended many weddings of wealthy or high-ranking families’ children in Ling City, but he found that his own wedding was even more luxurious, romantic, refined, and impeccable.
The lavish convoy drove all the way to today’s wedding venue—Yongjiang Hotel.
Today, Yongjiang Hotel looked different from when Jiang Yicen had last left it. The surrounding greenery had sprouted tender shoots, brimming with spring.
A crowd of onlookers gathered at the entrance, many holding cameras, telephoto lenses, or phones.
The Nan family had hired many security guards to maintain order outside.
Jiang Yicen was no stranger to reporters. His family was also a well-known wealthy merchant clan; his second brother had been photographed by tabloid reporters more than once. Once, his second brother had taken him to a dance hall behind their mother’s back to see the world, and they were photographed. That was the first time Jiang Yicen had appeared in the newspaper. When their father found out, his second brother and he were punished by kneeling in the ancestral hall for a day.
Thinking back to these trivial memories, a pang of bitterness welled up in his heart.
He asked Nan Shuyi, “Are those reporters?”
In his time, reporters had high social status. They were intellectual elites, conscientious, using their pens as weapons to contribute to social change. Though often in danger, they earned widespread respect.
Nan Shuyi thought Jiang Yicen seemed quite naive—he didn’t even realize these weren’t traditional reporters but rather self-media influencers who would do anything for traffic. They couldn’t be considered legitimate journalists.
“They aren’t reporters, just gossipmongering marketing accounts trying to get clicks.”
Jiang Yicen was always hearing new terms from Nan Shuyi. But what were marketing accounts?
He asked, “Are they like disreputable journalists?”
Nan Shuyi liked the phrase “disreputable.” He smiled. “Exactly.”
Jiang Yicen realized today just how much attention the alliance between the Jiang and Nan families attracted. “Did you invite any proper reporters?”
Nan Shuyi: “It seems not. My dad refused to let reporters write nonsense.”
Jiang Yicen pointed to the crowd outside. “Then will they write nonsense?”
Nan Shuyi: “Yes.”
Jiang Yicen said carefully, “I have an immature suggestion: blocking is not as good as channeling. It might be better to invite legitimate journalists to write positive articles.”
Nan Shuyi fell into thoughtful silence. The fact that he was marrying into the Jiang family was no longer a secret. He couldn’t stop everyone from talking about it—blocking wouldn’t work. People have a natural curiosity and desire for gossip. So it might be better to give them an opportunity, with positive coverage, to satisfy public curiosity while taking control of the narrative.
After they got out of the car, someone led Jiang Yicen to the lounge. Nan Shuyi went to find Nan Anru, who had just arrived as well.
The company had partner media outlets. Rather than letting self-media write whatever they wanted, it was better to give the exclusive to a regular, legitimate media outlet.
Around 10:30, guests began to arrive. The two families greeted guests at the door.
On the Nan side, Nan Shuyi’s cousins helped; on the Jiang side, Jiang Yiting and Jiang Yifeng were there. Even though they didn’t like this brother, today they had to be busy.
Nan Shuyi went to find Nan Anru, leaving Jiang Yicen alone in the lounge. He didn’t need to do anything—just sat with his eyes closed, resting.
Close to noon, the wedding planner came to lead Jiang Yicen to prepare for the ceremony. By then, almost all the guests had arrived.
Jiang Yicen asked, “Where’s Nan Shuyi?”
The butler replied, “Mr. Nan is already waiting ahead.”
Jiang Yicen nodded. “Mm.”
The planner took a few extra glances at Jiang Yicen, thinking to himself, This groom is not only handsome but has an extraordinary aura—this must be the bearing of a top-tier wealthy young master.
Feeling the gaze, Jiang Yicen smiled slightly. “Is there anything you need to tell me?”
The planner quickly shook his head. “No, no, just watch your step.”
Jiang Yicen knew the hotel like the back of his hand, but he hadn’t expected that decades later, he would be holding his wedding here. Maybe his family had also wanted to see him married and have children.
Before his mother passed, she had said her biggest regret was not seeing him get married.
For the upcoming ceremony, the doors to the banquet hall had been closed.
Walking down the long corridor, Jiang Yicen saw Nan Shuyi standing in front of the hall doors.
Today, Nan Shuyi wore a dark new-style Zhongshan suit, with tailored trousers wrapping his long legs, his posture straight and sharp.
His build was bigger than Jiang Yicen’s, and the style he carried was completely different. One was effortlessly elegant with a relaxed charm; the other was gentle and refined, full of cinematic storytelling.
He walked slowly toward Nan Shuyi. “Have you been waiting long?”
Nan Shuyi said, “No.”
Jiang Yicen noticed a strand of hair falling over his forehead. He reached up and smoothed it back. “Your hair is messy.”
Nan Shuyi let him approach. This was the first time they had been this close, and he could smell the light, elegant oceanic scent of his cologne.
He thought: Jiang Yicen’s eyelashes are really long. His eyes flicker as if he’s telling me I look handsome today.
The planner, reluctant to break the atmosphere, gently reminded them and handed over a bridal sash tied with a lover’s knot. “Gentlemen, the auspicious hour has arrived. Please enter the hall.”
The banquet doors swung open, and the lights shone on the two grooms.
Nan Shuyi and Jiang Yicen stepped onto the red carpet together, entering the wedding hall.
Jiang Yicen’s gaze fell on the sash between them.
This step—whether right or wrong, whether the future holds good or ill—at least someone is walking it with me.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, under the witness of elders, guests, and journalists, the wedding ceremony proceeded.
The master of ceremonies announced loudly:
“Honorable grooms, pay respects to Heaven and Earth! Three bows!”
They bowed to Heaven and Earth.
“Grooms, face each other!”
Jiang Yicen and Nan Shuyi turned to face each other.
“First bow! Second bow! Third bow!”
They bowed to each other.
The MC called out again:
“The ceremony is complete! Escort the groom to the bridal chamber!”
Just as they straightened up—bang, bang, bang—countless confetti burst into the air.
Jiang Yicen’s whole body stiffened. His legs froze in place. His ears rang, and then his entire body began to tremble violently!
The memories before his death came flooding back. He thought if he forgot, it wouldn’t affect him. Back then, for the greater good, he had been brave. But when he was alone and quiet afterward, recalling those moments, he was terrified. Often, in the middle of the night, he woke from nightmares of having a gun pointed at his temple.
Nan Shuyi was about to follow the MC’s cue and exit, but he noticed Jiang Yicen standing still, his face pale, his eyes suddenly vacant, his body shaking violently.
What’s wrong? He was fine just a moment ago.
He didn’t know what was happening to Jiang Yicen, but he quickly gripped his hand. It was ice cold. His body went limp, leaning against him.
Nan Shuyi whispered, “What’s wrong?”
Jiang Yicen’s trembling, bloodless lips parted. “I’m… scared.”
Nan Shuyi guessed the reason—this episode started after the confetti went off. He decisively wrapped an arm around Jiang Yicen’s waist and steered him toward the “bridal chamber.”
The younger crowd below started teasing:
“Master Nan can’t wait for the bridal chamber!”
“We want to crash the bridal chamber!”
“Woo~!”
Nan Shuyi tried to help Jiang Yicen leave quickly, but his legs were trembling too much to move. With no other choice, he scooped him up in his arms and hurried away.
The cheering below grew louder.
“Bridal chamber!”
“Bridal chamber!”
“Bridal chamber!”
Nan Shuyi: “…” Shut up. It’s not what you think.