Chapter 316: Marriage

Duan Xifeng acted quickly; he spent Sunday with his wife and kids, then organized a gathering Monday night.

Wang Yan had planned to treat everyone to a restaurant meal, but he never got the chance—this guy was indeed a refined one, always saying this and that about friends, and in the end they settled on hotpot at Hu Qixing's place.

He told Yang Tao to have free time that evening, and when he figured the time was right, Wang Yan got in his car and drove to Hu Qixing's shop according to the address.

In a big city, the worst part is you're over here and I'm over there. Wang Yan lived in the East Fifth Ring; Hu Qixing's shop was about the same distance from his mother-in-law's place, both on the southern Third Ring in the west. Actually, it shouldn't have been too far from Guoran's home either—after all, on Saturday he'd seen Guoran taking his mother shopping, so these people all lived roughly within the same twenty-minute drive radius. After all, if the distance were too great, the travel time alone would wear away plenty.

On the way, he stopped by a supermarket and bought some beef and lamb for hotpot, fruits, and ordered takeout barbecue too; after another hour of stopping and starting, they finally arrived at Qixing Pet Photography.

Wang Yan got out of the car, pulled a pile of things from the trunk, locked it, and carried everything inside.

Guoran had already arrived; seeing Wang Yan walking over with the goods, he rushed to open the door and stepped forward to take them: "Oh my, you're too generous—I've never seen anyone bring their own ingredients to a meal! Hey, you even brought four bottles of wine? That's way too much."

Wang Yan laughed heartily, set down the items and handed some to Guoran: "I'm just someone who loves good food and good drink—this is all for me, not out of politeness to you guys. By the way, where's my brother-in-law Duan Xifeng?" As he spoke, he nodded to Hu Qixing and his girlfriend, who had just come out behind them.

Guoran smiled: "He said traffic's jammed, he'll be late—told us to start without him."

"Fine by me. I'm starving. Let's get started."

After some polite formalities, they hung up a "Closed for Private Event" sign and sat around the pot on the second floor—three men and one woman. Hotpot wasn't complicated; the broth and vegetables were all prepped, they just needed to boil and add the meat.

Guoran opened the Feitian Maotai Wang Yan had brought, poured three glasses, and sighed: "Xifeng told me you're loaded, and now I see it's true—four bottles of wine equal half my monthly salary."

"No need to be so polite—just call me a nouveau riche. I don't believe he didn't say that to you." Wang Yan laughed: "I don't think 'nouveau riche' is an insult—I think it's a compliment. Life's all about eating and drinking. Come on, this is our first meal together—let's drink."

"Cheers."

The three took small sips; Hu Qixing picked up his chopsticks: "Let's go—add the meat, add the meat, we're all hungry, let's eat something to fill our stomachs first. My brother said you like photography too?"

Wang Yan watched the meat in the pot and nodded: "Yeah, just find a hobby when you've got free time."

The conversation was now open; as they ate and drank, they talked about photography. Though Hu Qixing shot cats and dogs, he made a living from it and was highly competent—his skill in this area was solid. Guoran, of course, was a prize-winning amateur who won awards regularly; Wang Yan could tell Guoran's level was far higher than his own. By rank, he was definitely between Senior LV3 and Intermediate LV4—more than sufficient.

With one person's main job and another's award-winning talent, Wang Yan was comparatively weaker. But he'd seen plenty, lacked no confidence in boasting, and had traveled widely for photo shoots—leaving Guoran and Hu Qixing, both stuck in the city, envious and awestruck. After all, every photographer, to some degree, dreams of grabbing a camera and shooting anywhere. Especially Guoran, who still longed to travel to Africa to photograph lions.

So the topic gradually shifted from photography to scenic spots and local customs. Wang Yan had once been a professor of Chinese Language and Literature, the leading figure of Peking University's Literature Department, a major name in China's literary scene, and a master of boasting—he described everything so vividly that Guoran and Hu Qixing sat stunned, suddenly wanting to hop in a car and hit the road.

Amid this lively conversation, the alcohol went down fast; before they knew it, both Hu Qixing and Guoran were flushed and more relaxed.

Just then, Duan Xifeng arrived with a smile: "Sorry, sorry—traffic was terrible after work. You guys seem to be having a great time."

Guoran waved his hand: "Don't care how good our chat is—quick, you owe yourself a drink. Qixing, pour."

Duan Xifeng sat on a nearby chair and nodded repeatedly: "Definitely owe one. Add more meat—my whole drive was stuck, I'm starving. Let me eat something first before I drink—I need something in my stomach."

Wang Yan nodded: "Remember—you're not allowed to cheat on the drink."

"No way, no way." Duan Xifeng grinned at them: "How's my brother-in-law? Any problems?"

"He's this." Guoran gave a thumbs-up.

Hu Qixing nodded: "We're totally in sync—wish we'd met sooner."

"You didn't know, Wang Yan? Guoran used to go on a blind date with Taozi."

"Stop, stop!" Before Wang Yan could speak, Guoran punched Duan Xifeng's upper arm: "You're still bringing this up? What did you tell me before? Didn't you say to help her out? How did it turn into a blind date? If Wang Yan hadn't mentioned it, I wouldn't have known a thing!"

"I was just thinking about your future! Besides, you two met and parted—what's the big deal? You're not even grateful I introduced someone! And thank goodness Taozi was strong enough to find Wang Yan."

"Don't talk about that—you handled it all wrong. Drink another one. Two already—we're watching."

"Two, two—I'll take the penalty, okay?"

Guoran nodded satisfied, turned to Wang Yan: "But brother, I'm not trying to be nosy—your pace with Yang Tao is really fast."

Wang Yan smiled: "It just felt right. My parents passed away early; for years I just wandered around, no one ever arranged anything for me. When I finally realized it, I was almost thirty. Yang Tao and I get along great, she treats me well, so I thought—why bother delaying? We're at this age, just get married. Luckily, she didn't object, so I came to you to register."

"Brother, don't take this the wrong way—you're still young." Guoran waved his hand: "I work at the Minzheng Bureau—I see people arguing and divorcing every day. The reasons are all over the place—you wouldn't believe them."

Guoran rattled off a bunch of random stories, even used his own parents as examples, and concluded: "So, brother, I think you're being too hasty. I'm not saying I don't believe in you and Yang Tao—I'm just saying you're rushing and still lack real understanding."

Duan Xifeng was starting to get annoyed—wasn't this wishing for their divorce right after they got married? He didn't know the details of Wang Yan and Yang Tao's relationship, but he knew Wang Yan had given Yang Tao two apartments—wasn't that enough? As long as Yang Tao didn't act up, they'd be fine.

Wang Yan didn't mind at all; he raised his glass with a smile: "I get what you mean, but we've already gotten the certificate—what's left to consider? Since you're the one who registered us and witnessed the start of our marriage, you have to bless us. Come on, drink up."

"Haha, I bless you—I definitely bless you." Guoran raised his glass: "May you and Yang Tao have children soon and live happily ever after."

"Bottoms up!"

They continued chatting and laughing, no agenda—just casual, relaxed conversation. They talked about when Wang Yan would have kids, how Duan Xifeng was about to become a father, how Guoran feared marriage, how Hu Qixing wanted to grow big and strong—everyone spoke freely.

Wang Yan simply wanted to eat, drink, and enjoy himself—nothing more. After all, he was a male lead, a photography expert; it was fine to socialize, learn a bit, occasionally ask for advice. Besides, he could watch later—see who Guoran ended up with after he stole his romance, or if he really ended up alone.

The meal lasted from six until nearly ten; everyone was pleasantly drunk. They promised to attend the wedding, then happily parted ways.

Duan Xifeng called a designated driver to take him to Xue Sumei's place; Wang Yan called one to take him home. Of course, he had to keep quiet—Duan Xifeng couldn't tell anyone he'd been drinking with Wang Yan. After all, they were trying for a baby now; his mother-in-law would nag endlessly if she found out. He'd already gotten her pregnant—by next month's wedding, it'd be obvious. Best to avoid it.

The driver took him straight to the underground parking lot. After settling the fare, Wang Yan staggered up the stairs.

He opened the door—the living room light was on at its lowest setting. Yang Tao, who'd been lying on the sofa watching TV, sat up: "You're back…"

"Still awake?"

"I was waiting for you."

Wang Yan changed into slippers, walked over, and sat beside her on the sofa, pulling her close: "Did you eat dinner? Want me to make you something?"

"I ate with Jiao Yang." As soon as she said it, Yang Tao clamped her hand over Wang Yan's mouth: "You reek of alcohol—don't touch me, you're annoying."

"You don't love me anymore."

Yang Tao laughed and kissed his cheek: "Fine, go wash up—you smell terrible."

"Together?"

"No. Not in the mood tonight."

Seeing her arms crossed, face drooping, Wang Yan asked gently: "What's wrong?"

Yang Tao wouldn't look at him: "Go wash up first. I'll tell you later."

He shrugged, playfully ruffled her hair, and turned into the bedroom to wash up. When he came out again, wearing only his underwear, Yang Tao was already lying on the big bed, idly scrolling through her phone.

He pulled back the covers, jumped onto the bed, and wrapped his arms around her, instinctively reaching for her big treasure: "What's bothering you?"

"It's your stupid jinx again." She put down her phone, slapped his hand away, and leaned into his chest: "Today, our HR director called me in. She gave me a recommendation letter, told me to hand over my duties, and suggested I start looking for another job."

"Didn't we already expect this? What's the problem? Good—it's like a vacation! Tomorrow I'll take you to see the commercial properties under your name. If we find a good one, we can talk about evicting the tenant and opening a wedding dress shop. If not, we'll just look around and rent something temporary—renovation takes time anyway. You'll have plenty to do soon. Isn't that great?"

"Oh no, it's good, sure, but it still makes me feel awful—it's just not the same thing. You know I've worked at the hotel for six years, diligently, and I never even properly dealt with my own problems. Now look, because of my own issues, I've lost my job—really…" Yang Tao sighed unhappily: "Do you know who beat me out? She graduated at twenty-two, got married right away, and had a kid. Now she's twenty-six, and her child's already four, in kindergarten. She doesn't care about marriage leave or maternity leave—I can't compete with her at all… sigh…"

"No." Wang Yan shook his head. "Think of it another way: if not for all this, maybe you'd have already married and had kids by now—where would our good fortune be? You've got to believe everything's arranged, destined for us to meet. And hey, Taozi, I just remembered—we haven't taken our wedding photos yet! Quickly wrap up your work handover, push back the store-opening plans, and let's go on a trip. I'll bring the camera, you bring the wedding dress—how's that sound?"

Yang Tao looked up at her man's gentle face, her big eyes filled with longing, hesitating: "But I don't have money, and I don't want to spend yours…"

Without a word, Wang Yan flipped Yang Tao onto his lap and gave her little butt a sharp *smack! *

Yang Tao cried out in a high-pitched, girlish voice of pain, struggling up and launching a flurry of wild punches at him: "I just can't get used to it!"

"Not getting used to it doesn't matter—you'll get used to it. " Wang Yan, watching her stubbornness, pulled her back into his arms and teased: "You've got no savings, you're about to be unemployed, your car's still on loan—so tell me, are you going to stick with 'not used to it'?"

Yang Tao's voice sank: "Then I won't go—I'll go look for another job…" She couldn't help mentally cursing her ex-boyfriend again, wishing he'd die and never be reborn.

"What nonsense? I'm happy to spend money on you—that's my choice. Don't keep tallying everything so precisely—it hurts feelings. You're just never satisfied. There are plenty of women who'd kill to have someone spend on them."

She gave him a light shove, sticking her chin up proudly: "Pfft, if I wanted to spend, I'd have spent someone else's long ago—why wait for you?"

"Then see? That's me winning, right? So this is settled. Hurry up and finish your work handover—we'll have more time to travel if we leave early. Stop making excuses. I'm making the call."

Yang Tao shot him a glance and grunted an "Mm," sealing the deal.

"Feeling better now?"

"No."

"Come on, let me help you."

"Oh no, don't—mm…"

The room was filled, echoing, with the tender entanglement of love between man and woman—the great joy of human life.

The next day, Wang Yan had just returned to the gated community after his morning exercise and was about to eat breakfast when he ran into his mother-in-law, precisely timed as always to come nagging.

"Mom!" Wang Yan called out, his voice now natural and loud.

From afar, the mother-in-law, her purse slung over her shoulder, hurried over with tiny, quick steps, waving happily.

Looking at the approaching mother-in-law, Wang Yan smiled: "Mom, your timing's getting sharper than ever. Did you have breakfast?"

Xue Sumei waved modestly: "I ate. Don't worry about me—just bring some for Taozi."

Wang Yan packed breakfast for both of them and strolled home with his mother-in-law.

Without waiting for Wang Yan to invite her, the fiery mother-in-law kicked off her shoes at the door and stormed into the bedroom, rummaging through the trash by the bed to confirm no forbidden items were used, then nodded in satisfaction and called out: "Taozi, get up! It's already this late and you're still sleeping?"

Yang Tao, still buried under the covers, groggily opened her eyes to see her mother's looming face and groaned in frustration: "Oh no, Mom, why are you so annoying? You keep telling us to hurry up and have a baby, then you come here first thing in the morning and ruin my sleep?"

Xue Sumei looked embarrassed but doubled down: "Then why does Wang Yan get up so early?"

"Can you compare him to me? He's got boundless energy and spends his days lounging at home like a king. I've got to go to work every day—how can we be the same? Seriously…"

"Alright, alright, you sleep, it's all Mom's fault, it's all Mom's fault." After soothing her drowsy daughter, Xue Sumei wandered around the house as usual, then sat across from Wang Yan at the dining table, smiling: "Your house is too clean—it feels like I've got nothing to do here."

"I'm just a king lounging at home all day—if the house weren't spotless, how would you enjoy your daily chores? How would we live?" Wang Yan replied loudly, deliberately.

Xue Sumei shook her head with a smile, poured herself a glass of water, and said nothing. These young couples bickered and flirted—it wasn't her place to butt in. Half a month since their marriage, she'd seen not a single bad sign—pure affection. Wang Yan never complained. Would any normal man tolerate her popping in unannounced? She'd secretly asked Yang Tao: "Is your husband really this quiet?" And Yang Tao had defended him—no complaints, always explaining. Truly, no one could ask for better.

"Oh no, why are you so annoying?"

The impatient voice came again, and soon Yang Tao, in her pajamas, rubbed her hair and wandered out. She gulped down a glass of boiled water, slapped Wang Yan lightly, then sat beside him to eat breakfast.

She wanted to keep sleeping, but now that they were talking, the buzzing noise in her foggy mind made it impossible to rest—unbearable.

Xue Sumei couldn't help scolding her daughter: "You're lucky to have found Wang Yan—you must've earned it over eight lifetimes. Still complaining? Be grateful!"

Yang Tao nodded vaguely, mumbling "Mm-hmm," but said nothing.

Wang Yan naturally didn't dwell on who was luckier: "By the way, Mom, I've got something to tell you."

"Go ahead."

"In a few days, Taozi and I are going on a trip—we'll take our wedding photos along the way."

"Do you need to tell me? Go!" Xue Sumei blurted out before thinking, then realized her mistake and hurriedly asked: "Wait—how long will you be gone?"

"At least a month. We'll come back right after the wedding."

Xue Sumei looked at the still-drowsy Yang Tao: "What about your job? Will they give you a month off?"

Yang Tao shook her head: "I'm getting fired. Well, not exactly fired—they're just not renewing my contract. Yesterday, our HR director called me…"

After listening carefully, Xue Sumei nodded: "I get it—you're too old, and it has nothing to do with Wang Yan. Even without him, they wouldn't renew your contract. What a lousy company! Don't they get married? Don't they have kids?"

At the mention of having kids, Xue Sumei froze, her eyes darting between the two: "Wang Yan, you promised me—you'd get Taozi pregnant next month, right? You're not changing your mind and running off now, planning to come back later when I can't stop you, are you?"

She wasn't worried about the job—Wang Yan was so rich, his monthly rent alone was hundreds of thousands. Even that former executive at the company, working herself to death, didn't earn as much in a year as Wang Yan did sitting at home each month. Besides, her daughter was now worth millions. She'd even secretly consulted someone to confirm: even if the marriage failed, the apartment was Yang Tao's. What was there to worry about?

Now, having a child was the top priority—everything else was secondary. They had money, they had time—she just didn't understand these young people. Just have the baby already! If you can't raise it, there's still Grandma to help, right?

Wang Yan laughed helplessly: "Mom, where did you get that idea? We're trying every day—no delays. You can be sure you'll be a grandma next month. The main reason we want to travel is to show Taozi some scenery. Otherwise, once she's pregnant, everything gets inconvenient. After the baby's born, there'll be even less time, right?"

"That's right, Mom. It's just these next two months—we won't have time after that. We've got to seize this chance to enjoy our couple time."

Xue Sumei looked at her daughter, blinked, then stood up: "I get it. You're tired of me. Fine, I'm leaving—won't disturb your couple time."

"Mom, Mom, sit down, don't rush!" Wang Yan quickly stopped her. "These days, wedding photos are all shot on location—teams travel around taking them. You know I love photography—I've got all the gear myself, so why hire a whole crew? We'd never think of you as a bother—you've misunderstood."

"Then why did she say 'couple time'? Isn't that a hint?"

Yang Tao sighed: "I just meant—without a crew following us, we save a ton of money. You don't know how expensive it is to hire photographers. That's all."

"Alright, I'm not blaming you—if I were, I'd leave already." Xue Sumei said. "I don't care how you two enjoy your couple time—but you two must hurry with the baby. Understood?"

"Alright, alright, Mom…"

"Don't worry, Mom."

Xue Sumei gave her daughter a stern look, then turned to Wang Yan with a beaming smile: "You're the one, Wang Yan. I'll head back now. I won't come around for a while. Oh—when you're leaving, come home a day early for dinner. I'll miss you both for a whole month."

"No problem, Mom—you could come with us too."

"That's sweet, but I won't." Xue Sumei waved her hand, then called loudly to her daughter eating at the table: "I won't interfere with your couple time. Goodbye, Wang Yan."

Watching her mother-in-law step into the elevator, Wang Yan closed the door and sat back down at the table.

Yang Tao fumed: "I'm convinced you're Xue Sumei's real son—I must've been picked up off the street. No one's treated you like this."

"Enough, eat your breakfast. Mom's just teasing you." These two were hilarious—five minutes of warmth, then three words and they'd start fighting. Wang Yan changed the subject: "Hurry up with your work handover. I've got nothing today—I'll start packing. When you get back tonight, check everything for anything I missed."

It'll take at least three or five days—I need to show her around and get her familiar with everything.

Then hurry up. And while you're at work, sneak in more breaks to really think through our itinerary.

Yang Tao sighed impatiently: "Alright, I get it."

In the following days, Wang Yan packed his travel luggage, while Yang Tao, at work, trained the person taking over her duties and planned where they'd go.

During spare moments, Wang Yan accompanied Yang Tao to buy two wedding dresses. Yang Tao designed them herself—if possible, she'd wear her own creations—but time was short, and custom-making took time, so they settled for ready-made ones. Still, the actual wedding dress had been prepared long ago; after years of secretly designing it, she'd already placed the order. Meanwhile, she also wore traditional Chinese wedding attire and took photos around the Forbidden City.

After nearly a week of preparation, they bid farewell to family and friends and left Jingcheng with three large suitcases: one held camera gear, one held Yang Tao's wedding dress and Wang Yan's matching formal wear, and the third contained their regular clothing. From the moment they left home, Yang Tao began filming with a video camera—she'd edit it later as a memory.

As for destinations, Dajiangnanbei was a must, and there was one place they couldn't avoid: the City of Sunlight. That was their first stop. For Wang Yan, it was his second visit—he'd once cycled there in the real world, but never returned since.

Time was still too tight; everything felt rushed, like a quick glance. They stayed only two or three days in each place, leaving little impression. It was joyful, yet exhausting.

But Yang Tao was delighted. She rarely complained along the way—perhaps because this was part of the wedding, or perhaps because such an opportunity might never come again, and she cherished it deeply.

They laughed and joked everywhere, scouting locations, then wandered around in wedding attire, collecting blessings from strangers across the land. Even reporters interviewed them, uncovering how they'd met eleven days earlier and pledged their lives to each other—and how romantically they'd traveled the country shooting wedding photos. It became a minor sensation. After a professional journalist's slight embellishment, it genuinely went viral. Even Yang Tao's mother-in-law back in Jingcheng called, having seen it on TV.

Such a romantic love story naturally attracted gossip—perhaps some simply wanted to prove that pure love doesn't exist. Under careful investigation, Wang Yan's nouveau riche status was exposed. But it didn't matter much—they'd nearly finished their journey by then. Public interest fades quickly, and the buzz naturally subsided. Aside from Yang Tao being upset for a while, everything proceeded smoothly.

Amid laughter and joy, Wang Yan and Yang Tao got married.

On August 23, 2012, the seventh day of the seventh lunar month—Qixi. In a romanticly decorated hall of a five-star hotel on Beijing's Fourth Ring Road, guests filled every seat.

A soft melody began. The professional wedding host stepped forward: "Dear friends and family, good morning. Welcome to the wedding of Mr. Wang Yan and Miss Yang Tao."

"Fate has brought us together here to witness this sacred moment between two souls. Fate also brought them to meet, fall in love, and pledge their lives to each other. In this process, our bride and groom needed only eleven days—what immense fate! Two people can certainly walk through hardship together, but they can also, like our couple today, recognize each other instantly. A single glance was enough to bind them for life."

After more speeches and a short film of Wang Yan and Yang Tao, the host moved to the main event: "Now, let the music play—please welcome today's bride and groom! Applause!"

Amid enthusiastic applause, Wang Yan walked out slowly, arm linked with Yang Tao in her wedding dress. Behind them followed two young relatives, along with Jiao Yang, Lan Weiwei, Li Hongli, and a friend of Wang Yan's who had traveled from afar to serve as best man.

There weren't many guests—just ten tables of relatives and friends. Wang Yan's social circle was extremely simple: no one else, only a few people the system had arranged for him to know, and half a table of acquaintances he'd made through his travels. The rest were all from Yang Tao's side.

After more auspicious remarks, Wang Yan and Yang Tao, who had already begun crying, stood facing each other as the host stepped between them.

"Wang Yan, do you take this woman to be your wife?"

"I do!"

"Love her for life?"

"I do!"

"Through poverty or wealth?"

"I do!"

"Through health or illness, until death?"

"I do!"

Wang Yan answered firmly, his gaze locked with Yang Tao's even firmer.

The host turned to Yang Tao: "Yang Tao, do you take this man to be your husband?"

Yang Tao, already weeping uncontrollably, choked out: "I do…"

Wang Yan stepped forward and embraced Yang Tao, giving her strength. He'd been through this many times—even if it were his first, he'd feel nothing. But Yang Tao was different. She had longed to meet true love, dreamed of marriage, and now stood at its threshold. Even though they'd already lived together for nearly two months, she was overwhelmed with emotion.

"Didn't we agree not to cry?"

"I can't help it!" Yang Tao sobbed into Wang Yan's arms.

Catching Wang Yan's glance, the host said: "The bride and groom are too emotional. Very well—next, let the bride and groom exchange rings."

These were newly purchased matching rings, custom-made. Though Yang Tao complained they were a waste of money, she still found it beautiful as Wang Yan slowly slipped the ring onto her finger.

As they placed the rings on each other's fingers, Jiao Yang, standing behind, blinked back tears—he was closest to Yang Tao and knew how desperately she'd longed for this moment. He was genuinely happy for her.

Lan Weiwei's eyes were also red. She still couldn't accept that Yang Tao had found such a good man so quickly—perhaps envy, perhaps jealousy, perhaps hatred. But that was Wang Yan's own thought—he didn't know what she truly felt.

Li Hongli, the chubby girl, was simpler: admiration, jealousy, and blessing. She wanted to marry too, wanted a husband.

Among the guests watching, Xue Sumei was weeping uncontrollably—she'd finally seen this day, and she was overjoyed. Su Qing and Duan Xifeng sighed in relief; the matter was finally over, though they certainly offered blessings. Lan Caiping was shattered—admiration, jealousy, hatred. She sat as if needles pricked her back, as if a bone stuck in her throat. Seeing her own daughter, red-eyed behind Yang Tao, she realized she'd been utterly defeated. Frustrated and unwilling to accept it, yet unable to regain any ground.

On the other side, sitting with Hu Qixing and his girlfriend, Guo Ran watched the couple on stage with no joy, no sorrow—he truly wanted to see how long these two would last.

At the same time, seeing Jiao Yang standing behind Wang Yan, he couldn't help but think how small the world was. He hadn't expected that the person he'd helped Hu Qixing hire—just to let his mother get a discounted deal at an advertising company—was actually Wang Yan's friend. These coincidences kept piling up. Quite interesting.

After exchanging rings, the couple kissed.

"Having come together to stand on this wedding stage, I'm sure our bride and groom have much to say. Now, please welcome the groom, Mr. Wang Yan, to share his love speech."

Taking the microphone from the host, Wang Yan raised it to his lips: "I know many people don't believe in our marriage—we met eleven days ago and got married. But I want to say: speed doesn't mean lack of love. We are simply each other's perfect match. Today is the seventy-second day since we met. We'll have many more seventy-second days. Thank you."

He handed the microphone to Yang Tao.

Sobbing, Yang Tao raised the microphone: "I love you."

Then she threw herself into Wang Yan's arms. She was too overwhelmed. Though they'd already registered their marriage and lived together, she'd always felt something was missing. Now, after a month of travel, photos, wearing this wedding dress, and standing before all these loved ones, she felt it was perfect.

Every day with Wang Yan deepened her love. She'd always felt weightless, floating on clouds, unreal, too dreamlike. Now, it felt real. She felt love had truly embraced her.

Wang Yan couldn't feel it—but he understood. He was simply too outstanding, too perfect. To devote himself entirely to studying one woman—few could resist.

After calming Yang Tao, under teasing from the guests, she stood beside him, eyes and cheeks flushed, gripping his hand tightly.

"Now, please welcome the bride's parent, Ms. Xue Sumei, to offer her blessings to her daughter and son-in-law. Applause!"

Xue Sumei straightened her clothes, wiped her tears, stepped up, hugged both Yang Tao and Wang Yan, then took the microphone and shouted: "Dear friends, family, old colleagues—hello!"

The crowd below applauded politely.

Xue Sumei took a breath: "Today is the wedding day of my daughter Yang Tao and son-in-law Wang Yan. On my behalf, I warmly welcome and sincerely thank everyone here. I'm happy—so happy. My daughter has found a good man to spend her life with. I'm satisfied. I'm content. Yang Tao's father passed away early; for years, we've relied on each other…"

Xue Sumei was truly moved—she went on and on: how Wang Yan's parents had died early, how he should now treat her as his own mother, how she'd worried endlessly for Yang Tao's sake, how satisfied she was with Wang Yan. After all that, she didn't forget her final blow: "Yang Tao's maid of honor, Lan Weiwei, is my former colleague and close friend—daughter of Ms. Lan Caiping."

Below, Lan Caiping forced a smile and nodded at the people turning to look—she couldn't hide it; Xue Sumei had pointed right at her.

Up on stage, Xue Sumei continued: "Now that my daughter Yang Tao is married, she's taken a step ahead of you—but hurry up! They're already busy having a baby. Don't fall too far behind. I hope the joy of Yang Tao and Wang Yan's wedding today brings you luck too, Lan Caiping. I hope your daughter Weiwei finds her own path to marriage soon. That's all I have to say. Please eat well and drink well!"

No one took Xue Sumei's words seriously—they thought it was just friendly banter. Only Lan Caiping believed it. She knew Xue Sumei had said it on purpose to provoke her.

Xue Sumei, satisfied, went aside to talk with her daughter. After a few more words from the host, Wang Yan and Yang Tao bowed to the guests below. Then Yang Tao went back to change out of her beloved wedding dress—the banquet was about to begin. On the large screen behind the stage, clips from the past month began playing: their journey from Jingcheng, moment by moment.

In truth, the guests didn't care much how the couple were doing. They cared more about their unhappiness. No one truly cared. Most just wanted to finish eating and leave. Life was better now—no one minded a meal, even if it was top-tier. They ate it for novelty, sighed at Xue Sumei's luck for landing a rich son-in-law, and moved on. Deep down, most still thought rich people were unreliable.

And today's wedding, compared to the original plot where he married Lan Weiwei after stealing her from his ex-boyfriend, was far better—more than sufficient. Truly speaking, compared to the elaborate wedding ceremonies demanded in complicated interpersonal situations, Wang Yan preferred this simple, uncomplicated one even more.

And as the female lead, Yang Tao was happy, delighted, her face radiating bliss so intense it seemed she might burst—so that was enough.

Wang Yan and Yang Tao began going table by table to recognize guests and toast them; of course, Yang Tao could not drink—she was already pregnant, though she had not yet shown any symptoms, and the timing was likely just about right.

That day, Wang Yan naturally got thoroughly drunk; in the newly decorated room, adorned with red double happiness characters, on the bed with red quilts and red sheets, the ceremony was completed, officially announcing to family and friends that the two had become husband and wife, and they fell asleep in happy embrace…

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