Chapter 604: Cannot Share a Room

Liu Tianwang called just to show support, since he too was heading north, and no one heading north could bypass Chang'e and the Jade Rabbit.

How he got the number was unknown—he had connections everywhere.

Liu Tianxian had collaborated with him before; though they weren't close, they knew each other.

Recently, Liu Tianxian received call after call—from Liu Tianwang, Gu Tianle, Zou Zhaolong, Hui Yinghong, Yu Shaoqun, Deng Chao, and others.

All of them had worked with him and wanted to attend their wedding to make an appearance.

This "appearance" wasn't for the media, but for political, business, and film industry heavyweights—Chang'e and Jade Rabbit and Bona already held half the territory.

Add to that the General Managers invited, and at least 80% of entertainment industry General Managers would show up.

But few of these actors called Fang Hong—one, they didn't know him well; two, they feared him; no one had deep contact with Fang Hong.

If the Principal ignored them, how awkward would that be!

At least Liu Tianxian wouldn't offend anyone's face—she was much easier to get along with. The Principal went alone, never getting too close to any star, giving the impression of being hard to approach.

As June arrived, Liu Tianxian and Fang Hong's wedding drew near; invitations were distributed everywhere, turning it into a major event in the entertainment circle.

Countless stars flocked eagerly, just to get one invitation or be brought in by someone.

But it wasn't something you could just bring someone to—strict rules applied; generally, no guests allowed.

After all, one had to consider impact, safety, and prestige.

In a room with a deep red theme, red silk hung from the rafters, red lanterns dangled above, and the backdrop was a red carved screen.

The entire atmosphere gave a sense of ancient elegance, steeped in traditional culture.

Ahead stood a red-wood Chinese table and chairs, with red candles placed on the table—unlit, simulated by lighting, paired with the red lanterns to create a warm feeling.

On either side of the red Chinese chairs, Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian sat upright, looking very formal.

Fang Hong wore a deep red ceremonial robe, with a golden sash around his waist, resembling a Jinyiwei uniform, appearing heroic and steady.

Facing the camera, he performed the yi bow—a greeting posture: body upright, hands clasped together.

Liu Tianxian wore a phoenix crown, her makeup light and refined, her eyebrows and eyes delicate, lips a true red, dressed in a red dragon-phoenix gown embroidered with golden auspicious clouds and peonies on the collar, with delicate tassels adorning the cuffs.

She sat upright, shoulders raised, hands placed before her in a bow, eyes smiling, exuding dignity and grace.

"Click!"—the image froze.

At this moment, the two were shooting wedding photos; dozens of such sets were shot each day.

Then the best one would be selected from them.

It looked easy, but it was exhausting and difficult—holding poses still for long periods was a challenge, as was maintaining good mental state.

Around them were many staff—lighting, set design, makeup, hair, photography—dozens serving the two.

"Shooting this is too troublesome, too tiring," Fang Hong pounded his shoulders.

"Already tired? There's still a lot more shooting to come," Liu Tianxian took the water cup from her Assistant and sipped through a straw.

She couldn't drink water directly—it would ruin her makeup.

Beside her, a hair and makeup artist carefully removed her phoenix crown, and her black hair immediately fell, cascading down her back.

"How do you guys endure shooting art photos?" Fang Hong twisted his neck, bones cracking.

Shooting this required holding a pose for long periods—head, shoulders, arms, waist all had to be precisely positioned, even fingers had requirements.

After a while, muscles ached.

This was to capture the best possible effect; even a slight deviation could ruin the overall result.

"Just keep going—it's what you do. You have to learn to adapt," Liu Tianxian ran her fingers through her hair.

As they talked, the photographer walked over with a notebook, holding it toward Fang Hong and pointing to the recently shot images: "General Manager Fang, take a look at the photo sets."

Fang Hong took the notebook, flipped through a few images, then handed it to Liu Tianxian: "Take a look."

Liu Tianxian handed him her water cup, then took the notebook and studied it carefully.

The photographer turned to Liu Tianxian to hear her feedback.

Fang Hong took the water cup she'd handed him and sipped through the straw.

"It's okay, but the lighting and shadows feel too coarse," Liu Tianxian swiped through the photos.

"Alright, let's adjust the focus in the shooting team," the photographer suggested.

Liu Tianxian nodded in agreement, then asked Fang Hong: "What do you think?"

"I agree with you," Fang Hong said.

Liu Tianxian gave him a reproachful look. "You're lazy."

Fang Hong smiled and explained: "Each person has their own sense. I think it's fine. You feel something's missing—I can't argue with you, can I? Of course the wife decides."

These words made Liu Tianxian glance at him with eyes full of tenderness—charming, captivating.

After shooting several more sets of this scene, the team moved to another location.

In an ancient-style courtyard, with small bridges over flowing streams, bamboo paths, stone bridges and pavilions, and large red lanterns hanging high—it looked like a scene from an ancient landscape painting.

At this moment, Fang Hong and Liu Tianxian had changed into another outfit.

Liu Tianxian wore traditional Hanfu, also deep red, appearing heavy, sumptuous, and noble.

Fang Hong still wore his ceremonial robe, but the style changed—to resemble the Ming emperor's everyday attire.

Around them stood makeup artists, reapplying their makeup.

Fang Hong needed little makeup—two makeup artists just needed to refine his Skin slightly.

Around Liu Tianxian, many more people clustered—not only to adjust her clothes, but also to arrange her gold and silver hair ornaments.

Female hair and makeup were always more complicated—gold and silver ornaments and clothing; men's were similar, sometimes just changing a hat was enough.

For this wedding photo shoot, they prepared over a hundred outfits—ancient ones, and modern white wedding gowns.

This was Liu Tianxian's request—to make a photo album and frame it at home; they'd pick one white wedding photo to hang in their bedroom.

"We've shot few static shots so far. If we were to capture dynamic moments—jumping, turning, flicking hair—it'd be a hassle. Too fast or too slow, and you miss it. You'd have to keep doing it until the photographer captures the perfect frame."

Liu Tianxian tilted her head stubbornly, chatting with Fang Hong about the troubles of shooting those artistic photos.

Even while being made up, it didn't hinder her talking.

"It's just like filming a movie—if it's not good, you keep shooting." Fang Hong's makeup was done; the two makeup artists went to help Liu Tianxian, his being simple.

"Yes, don't be fooled by how polished and full of essence the stars' photos look—they're all shot over and over, then fixed by the post-production team," Liu Tianxian said.

"You definitely get retouched less." Fang Hong said.

"I get retouched a lot too, not little at all," Liu Tianxian replied.

"Then why do people call you Fatty Fei, but call Xia Jie as serene as a chrysanthemum? Isn't it because you get retouched less while others get retouched more?" Fang Hong chuckled.

The makeup artists, staff, and photographers around them held back their laughter.

These two were truly amusing.

But everyone else could tell the Principal's remark carried a hint of mockery—he was saying Liu Tianxian was real, while Xia Jie wasn't.

Liu Tianxian pursed her lips and smiled, waving her hand: "Come here."

"Not coming," Fang Hong said.

"Come here, I promise I won't hit you," Liu Tianxian coaxed.

"Then I definitely won't come—you always mean the opposite of what you say," Fang Hong knew her too well.

Saying she wouldn't hit him meant she definitely would.

"Oh? Getting smart, learning to listen backwards?" Liu Tianxian teased.

"Of course—I can't fool others, but I can fool you," Fang Hong said, slightly proud.

"Is that so? Come here!" Liu Tianxian suddenly changed expression, glaring with deadly intent.

The makeup artists nearby were startled—when Tianxian went on the attack, it was no joke.

Fang Hong didn't hesitate—he immediately walked up close.

"That's better!"

Liu Tianxian's face softened again into a gentle smile; the earlier aggression vanished. She raised her hand and patted Fang Hong's cheek: "Still calling me Fatty Fei?"

"No more," Fang Hong looked obedient.

"Say something sweet," Liu Tianxian said.

"Baby," Fang Hong said.

"That's my good boy," Liu Tianxian couldn't help laughing, her teeth showing.

Their actions and words made the once-serious atmosphere around them burst into laughter.

Some, embarrassed, covered their mouths.

Truly, the Principal and Liu Tianxian were so amusing, so full of charm.

After makeup, they continued shooting: on an arched bridge, beneath flowed water and lotuses; Liu Tianxian held a round fan, sitting sideways on the bridge pier, radiating gentleness.

Fang Hong held a folding fan, standing slightly behind her; the scene froze.

Then Fang Hong lifted Liu Tianxian's chin with his fan; she tilted her head slightly, her eyes glancing at him—the scene froze.

Liu Tianxian, dragging her heavy Hanfu skirt, walked up the steps with Fang Hong; ahead loomed a majestic palace. At a designated spot, they turned to gaze at the sky; the photographer shot upward—the scene froze.

In these shots, the two looked like ancient royalty.

They also shot modern wedding photos: Fang Hong in a black suit, Liu Tianxian in a white wedding dress, facing each other, embracing—the scene froze.

On a green, lush meadow with beautiful scenery, Liu Tianxian wrapped her arms around Fang Hong's neck, leaning back; Fang Hong held her waist, their faces pressed together, staring at the lens.

By the blue sea, Fang Hong kissed Liu Tianxian's forehead—warm and romantic—the scene froze.

Fang Hong hugged Liu Tianxian's waist from behind; she arched her neck backward, kissing him in the glow of the setting sun.

For this period, the two traveled to many places, shooting various wedding photos daily—each session lasted over ten hours, morning and night; every photo was exquisitely beautiful.

They didn't shoot only in Beijing—sometimes they went to Jiangnan, sometimes to Qingdao—all on location, each place pre-arranged, fully booked, with the team following the entire way.

And they didn't plan to publicly release all the wedding photos.

If the chance arose, they'd release a few; most would remain for their own enjoyment.

Of course, whether to release them depended on Liu Tianxian's wish.

Dragging their weary bodies back to Beijing, in the villa's bedroom, Liu Tianxian sat on the edge of the bed while Fang Hong knelt on the bed behind her, massaging her shoulders.

"I'm exhausted," Liu Tianxian said.

"I haven't even complained yet, and you're already tired," Fang Hong bent his arm, using his elbow to press her shoulders.

"Ow! Ow!" Liu Tianxian squealed.

Fang Hong eased his pressure: "Better? Any relief?"

"A bit better—having a husband is great. Come here, kiss me," Liu Tianxian smiled with half-closed eyes, tilting her head up.

Fang Hong, directly above her, pressed his lips to hers.

"Click!"

The door opened; Liu Xiaoli burst in, seeing an inappropriate scene: "Oh!" she cried, covering her eyes.

She wore glasses, and didn't cover them fully.

Actually, the two were fully clothed—Liu Xiaoli was pretending.

Liu Xiaoli didn't leave; she complained: "I'm running myself ragged, and you two just sit here enjoying yourselves without even offering to help?"

"We just rested—we're dead tired too," Liu Tianxian grumbled.

"You're complaining? Who's more tired than me? I'm doing everything for you two," Liu Xiaoli sat on a single sofa, holding a thick stack of files.

She placed the stack on the coffee table: "These are all your wedding plans—venues, security, ceremonies, guest lists—every single detail falls on me. Tell me, who's tired?"

The wedding was coming soon; for this period, Liu Xiaoli had been rushing around, overwhelmed.

And since she was in charge of the wedding, ensuring every detail was perfectly prepared, it truly demanded immense effort.

After all, this wedding isn't a small matter, and it's especially tedious; managing it alone naturally isn't pleasant.

Even in ordinary families, weddings bring all kinds of conflicts.

"Yes, yes, yes, you're tired—I'm not tired at all, Fang Hong's the one who's tired." Liu Tianxian didn't argue with her mother and immediately dumped the blame on Fang Hong beside her.

Fang Hong fell silent, having already stopped working; though he had complained, he hadn't complained in front of his mother-in-law.

"You're no better—you keep adding this person, then that person. Do you think adding names is just writing down a name? Invitations, dress codes, seating arrangements—they're not trivial." Liu Xiaoli's tone carried a hint of annoyance.

During this time, Liu Tianxian had indeed added many names—all from people who called to attend the wedding.

She couldn't refuse, so she let her mother add them; after all, others coming to attend their wedding was a blessing, an act of goodwill, impossible to turn down.

Fang Hong had added far fewer—just company colleagues and family members, since no one had approached him.

"Oh mom." Liu Tianxian walked over and sat on the arm of the sofa beside her mother, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck, cooing: "You're the best, the best mother in the world."

"I can't take you anymore."

Liu Xiaoli's anger melted under her daughter's affection; she no longer felt tired, and affectionately patted her daughter's head.

She turned to Fang Hong and said: "I came just to tell you—Fang Hong's relatives from home have all been arranged to stay at the hotel. When you have time, go see them. Don't just let them come and you don't even greet them."

They were all relatives from the hometown, accommodated in Beijing; such a big event meant some close kin from there couldn't possibly not come.

"Yes, Mom!" Fang Hong nodded.

Liu Xiaoli had arranged this part very thoughtfully, and hadn't looked down on the groom's rural background.

"Then you two get back to work. I'm leaving." Liu Xiaoli picked up her files, stood up, and tapped her daughter's forehead.

Liu Tianxian smiled playfully.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you—after today, you two can't share a room anymore. You have to wait until after the wedding." Liu Xiaoli turned back to remind them.

"There's such a rule?" Liu Tianxian was surprised.

"Of course there is—it's tradition." Liu Xiaoli said, then walked out the door.

They already couldn't share a room; she just didn't have the heart to spoil their mood, so she said "after today."

Both of them were already here, Xiao Fang had come—she couldn't send Xiao Fang back and say, "Don't come here these two days"—that would be so rude!

(End of Chapter)