Lu Zhiling was still reeling from the blinding flash of white light in front of her misty eyes when Bo Wang suddenly turned his head toward her.
His face was still veiled in mist; his features were blurred and indistinct.
Yet, even without seeing his eyes clearly, she could feel his gaze — cold and deep, like a bottomless pool beneath a sheer cliff, terrifyingly still. That single glance seemed capable of tearing her soul apart.
A chill ran through her heart. She instinctively tried to shrink back, but before she could move, a strong hand seized her chin. The grip was so forceful that her jawbone seemed to grind against itself.
It hurt — so much that her breath trembled.
“Alright then,” he said, his voice low, magnetic, and disturbingly calm. “I’ll marry you.”
His face drew closer. The faint scent of tobacco and mint brushed against her cheek as he murmured, tone soft yet menacing,
“Miss Lu, eat well and rest enough… so that later, I can take my time… and play slowly.”
When he finished, Bo Wang gave her cheek a gentle pat — an almost intimate gesture that felt more like mockery — and turned to step out of the car.
“Ugh—”
The tension that had been coiled tight inside her suddenly snapped. A wave of nausea surged up, and before she could stop it, she leaned over and retched violently.
The bodyguard beside her reacted quickly, opening a small car trash can and holding it out for her.
Lu Zhiling bent forward, her body trembling as she vomited everything out.
When she finally lifted her head again, her vision cleared abruptly. The world, which had been shrouded in haze, sharpened into painful clarity.
Through the open car door, she saw the tall, unfamiliar back of the man walking away.
He was dressed entirely in black, one hand casually tucked into his trouser pocket. His silhouette was slender, almost elegant, yet every step carried an oppressive aura. As he walked into the glaring light, even the dark fabric of his coat seemed to blur into unreality.
He looked like a spirit of impermanence — one of the dark wardens from Diyu (the underworld in Chinese mythology) — striding through a field of red spider lilies (flowers symbolizing death and parting in Chinese culture). Even the sound of his footsteps was cold enough to seep into her bones.
Three days later.
The sun spilled over a vast mountain resort that stretched as far as the eye could see.
Following a winding asphalt road through the forest, a grand villa emerged in view — designed in the refined, pastoral style of an Italian manor, surrounded by rows of cypress and stone fountains.
Servants stood in two neat lines at the entrance. As the heavy doors opened, they bowed deeply to welcome the arriving wedding guests.
Under the brilliant glow of chandeliers, Lu Zhiling walked slowly into the hall, clad in a pure white embroidered wedding dress. The delicate silk shimmered faintly as she moved — elegant, quiet, almost otherworldly.
The orchestra played a romantic melody twice before falling silent. An uneasy stillness filled the room. Guests exchanged puzzled glances, their whispers fluttering like restless moths.
By the bride’s side stood an elegantly dressed elderly couple — Bo Wang’s grandparents — their expressions turning grim.
Because at this wedding, there was only the bride.
The groom was nowhere to be seen.
Lu Zhiling’s eyesight had returned, but she obediently played the role of the blind bride, standing still with a serene, vacant expression as if unaware of the awkward tension thickening around her.
The housekeeper hurried over and shook his head subtly at the elderly couple, signaling that he had not found the eldest young master.
Upon hearing this, Madam Ding Yujun’s temper flared. Her chest tightened with fury until her head spun.
“Go find me a rope!” she snapped. “I’ll hang that ungrateful grandson right at his doorstep!”
The people nearby rushed to calm her.
As Lu Zhiling stood motionless on the stage, she caught sight of a beautiful middle-aged woman walking gracefully toward Madam Ding. The woman’s demeanor was soft and charming, but her words were sharp as she leaned close and whispered,
“Madam, Bo Wang is being outrageous, but don’t get angry. Fortunately, all the guests today are family — no outsiders. Word won’t spread. Just go through the motions, and it’ll all be fine.”
“How can we ‘go through the motions’ without the groom?” Madam Ding’s voice trembled with barely contained rage.
The beautiful woman’s gaze flicked toward Lu Zhiling, who stood quietly at the center like a carved wooden doll. Seeing her unfocused eyes and perfectly still posture, the woman let out a small, knowing laugh.
“She can’t see anyway,” she said in a tone that was almost amused. “Just find someone else to stand in and complete the ceremony. Isn’t it your great-grandson you’re worried about? As long as she doesn’t make a fuss and endanger the child she’s carrying, that’s all that matters.”
She spoke as if Lu Zhiling were deaf as well as blind, every word dripping with casual cruelty.
But Lu Zhiling had been blind for five years — long enough to sharpen her hearing to razor precision. Every whispered syllable slid into her ears like ice.
“That’s too much for her,” Madam Ding frowned, finally looking properly at the girl before her.
Lu Zhiling stood quietly, bouquet in hand, her small face pale but composed, her features soft and delicate. There was something fragile and well-behaved about her — the kind of beauty that stirred pity rather than desire.
“The Lu family fell into ruin long ago,” the beautiful woman continued smoothly, her tone carrying a touch of disdain. “This girl comes from a poor background. To marry into the Bo family is her blessing — how could she possibly call it a grievance?”
Madam Ding hesitated, her brows furrowing again and again. Yet in the end, she said nothing more.
The Bo family quickly found a tall male servant to act as a stand-in for the ceremony.
The exchange of rings, the signing of the marriage certificate, and all the rituals proceeded flawlessly — on the surface.
Lu Zhiling said nothing. She merely slipped her hand into the stranger’s arm, her movements calm and precise, pretending not to notice the difference. She smiled faintly, going through the motions as though in a dream.
When everything ended, she was quietly escorted to the bridal chamber — alone.