Chapter 1: Thinking of Getting Married?

"Young Master Liang, how much longer are you going to keep playing with that little dancer? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for her?"

"Nonsense, how could our Jia really care? It’s just that the girl is obedient and doesn’t make trouble. That’s the only reason Jia keeps her around. Isn’t that right, Jia?"

Xianyu stood at the door of the private room, the door half-closed, hearing the voices of Ying Chenye and Shangguan Ge inside. The subject of their conversation was her.

They were all waiting for Liang Youjia’s answer.

And so was she.

But he was silent for a few seconds.

Those few seconds gave her room to imagine, to hope.

She waited for him to tell his friends that it wasn’t like that, that she, Xianyu, was different to him.

Through the crack of the door, she saw a sliver of light cast across the chiseled lines of his face, outlining the faint, mocking curve of his lips.

Between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, a cigarette smoldered, smoke curling into the air. Even his deep, jade-cold voice sounded distant and unfeeling.

"Of course. People like us and someone like her were never meant to be together."

In that instant, Xianyu felt as though a dagger had pierced her chest, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her, leaving her heart aching and numb.

Ying Chenye chuckled. "So, when are you planning to tell her?"

Liang Youjia replied, "I’ll wait until the third of October."

Shangguan Ge clicked his tongue. "Ruthless, truly ruthless. You’re dragging it out until the engagement day, not even giving her a moment to prepare."

...

Xianyu could no longer hear the voices inside.

Her whole body shook, barely able to stand.

She had been with Liang Youjia for five years.

In those five years, he had treated her like a treasure, and she had given him her whole heart.

Just last month, she’d asked when he would marry her.

He’d only said he was busy with work, that it wasn’t the right time. He promised they’d talk about it once things settled down.

But now, she realized it wasn’t that he had no time; he simply didn’t want to.

Unbidden, tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

"Miss, are you still going in?" the waiter who had brought her there suddenly asked.

"No," Xianyu wiped her eyes. "Don’t tell him I was here."

She walked away in her high heels, graceful and composed, her silhouette enchanting even as she left.

The waiter sighed quietly and pushed open the door to the private room.

—

She opened the photo album; it was filled with intimate pictures—watching the aurora together in the Arctic Circle, cooking in a cabin in Iceland, climbing mountains, her pretending she couldn’t walk any farther and begging him for a piggyback ride...

Xianyu turned each page, tasting the salty bitterness of tears on her lips.

She couldn’t understand how a person could change so much.

Had all this intimacy and affection been nothing but a masquerade, a lie?

Creak—

The front door opened. She heard the voices of the housekeeper and Liang Youjia at the entrance.

"Is Yuyu home?"

"Ah, Miss Yu is upstairs."

Xianyu froze for a moment, hurriedly closed the album, and slipped it back into the drawer.

She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, collecting herself.

When Liang Youjia came upstairs, he found Xianyu reclining serenely in a lounge chair, cradling their orange cat.

He took off his jacket and hung it on the rack.

Gazing at the woman’s gentle, alluring figure, a soft, indescribable tenderness flickered in his eyes.

"The Ball of Mutton Fat is getting plump again," Liang Youjia came up behind her, scooping both her and the cat into his arms.

The "Ball of Mutton Fat" licked its paw, glancing at Liang Youjia with a look of reproachful resignation.

He rubbed the cat’s chin with one hand and lifted Xianyu’s face with the other, about to kiss her—when he noticed how red her eyes were.

Such delicate beauty, pitiable to behold.

On the bed, she was an aphrodisiac, but at this moment, she made his heart ache as though pricked by needles.

"Why are you crying?"

"I was just reading a novel," Xianyu blinked, grateful for her quick thinking in such a moment, "It was a tragic story, and it made me cry."

Liang Youjia gave a helpless smile. Women are always emotional, especially someone as lovely as Xianyu.

But he never stinted on affection. The more she relied on him, the happier he was.

He cupped the back of her head, lowered his lips to hers, kissing her tenderly, his eyes brimming with love barely contained, and a burning desire like a flickering flame.

"Novels are all make-believe. Let your husband take care of you—forget all those unhappy things."

But Xianyu thought, Some things can never be forgotten.

Novels are not all lies. Reality is far crueler.

The man kissed her more fiercely, his hands roaming to the clasp of her dress, unfastening the strap.

A cool breeze drifted in from the window, chilling her exposed skin.

The "Ball of Mutton Fat" covered its eyes with a paw, then leapt onto her chest, meowing plaintively.

That sound jolted Xianyu out of her passion.

The man’s hand slipped beneath her silk skirt.

A moment later, she caught his hand.

Liang Youjia was nearly lost in desire; her movement made him frown in irritation and confusion.

"Ah You, I want to talk to you," Xianyu blinked, her peach blossom eyes glistening with tears. Liang Youjia’s heart softened at the sight.

He swallowed, "What’s wrong? Why so serious all of a sudden?"

"When are we going to meet each other’s families?"

Liang Youjia raised an eyebrow, mussing her hair as he did the cat’s. "Why do you ask that now?"

Xianyu clung to his arm, coquettish. "My grandmother’s asked me so many times—when will she get to meet her grandson-in-law? I always put her off, but I feel guilty every time."

Xianyu was a left-behind child, raised by her grandmother.

Every year, she returned home just to see her.

Her grandmother was already eighty this year; she’d promised to bring her grandson-in-law home.

But now...

Liang Youjia pressed his lips together. He knew how close Xianyu was to her grandmother, but he couldn’t help overthinking.

"Thinking of getting married?" He looked at her with a half-smile, teasing and faintly mocking at the same time.