Episode3

The wedding day

The grand hall was dressed in white and silver, like winter frozen in time. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above like stars locked behind glass. Rows of orchids lined the aisle, their petals trembling gently beneath the breeze of the air-conditioning. Every detail had been curated to perfection—yet the atmosphere felt cold.

Too cold.

In a private dressing room tucked behind the altar, Li Wei sat silently before a tall, ornate mirror. He wore an ivory-white wedding suit tailored perfectly to his slim figure. The jacket shimmered faintly under the lights, its subtle embroidery curling like vines across his sleeves. A delicate brooch, shaped like a plum blossom, was pinned just above his heart—his mother’s idea.

His hair was neatly curled, soft waves falling gently across his forehead. Pale skin, rosy lips. Beautiful. Almost unreal.

And yet…

He couldn’t smile.

Li Wei stared at his reflection, hands resting quietly on his lap. The corners of his mouth curled faintly, trying to feign happiness. But his eyes betrayed him.

Does this really count as a wedding?

Will this ever become real… or am I just a name in a contract?

He remembered Zhao Yan’s distant face at the engagement dinner. The way he hadn’t even looked at him. The way he walked out before dessert. Since that day, not a single message. Not a call. Not a glance. And now… they were about to be married.

Not as lovers. Not even as friends.

Just two strangers tangled in duty.

A soft knock came at the door.

“It’s time,” said the assistant, bowing.

Li Wei stood, smoothing his jacket. He took one last look in the mirror, then followed them down the hallway, every step heavier than the last.

---

The ceremony was grand.

Dozens of guests filled the hall—business elites, family friends, reporters, and investors. Cameras flashed. Champagne glasses clinked. But beneath the celebration, whispers moved like shadows.

> “That’s the groom? The one marrying Zhao Yan?”

“He’s so delicate… looks like he’d break if you touched him.”

“They say he’s gay, you know. Poor thing. Zhao Yan doesn’t even swing that way.”

“Still, look at him. Even the women here are jealous.”

Li Wei walked down the aisle with a soft gaze and a graceful posture, never quite meeting anyone’s eyes. He could feel them watching him—commenting on him like he was an art piece in a gallery.

At the altar stood Zhao Yan.

Tall, sharp, and distant.

He wore a sleek black suit with a high-collared shirt, no tie. His presence was commanding, his face emotionless. Not even a flicker of warmth crossed his eyes as Li Wei approached. He stood like a statue, untouched by the occasion.

When Li Wei took his place beside him, Zhao Yan didn’t even turn his head.

The officiant began to speak.

Words passed—about unity, promises, and partnership. But Li Wei barely heard them. All he noticed was the silence between their breaths. The cold space between their hands.

When the officiant finally said, “You may kiss your partner,” all heads turned toward them.

Zhao Yan didn’t move.

He simply bowed slightly, extending a formal hand to Li Wei like it was a business handshake. Li Wei reached out, fingers trembling, and accepted it.

No kiss.

Not even a smile.

Only silence.

A low murmur spread through the guests. The photographers hesitated before snapping the final pictures. The lack of affection was obvious. Painfully so.

Zhao Yan released his hand quickly, stepping aside.

Li Wei stood alone for a moment, blinking against the lights, the sound of clapping somehow distant. His chest felt tight. He forced a small smile to stay on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

---

Later, at the reception, Zhao Yan stood talking to shareholders. Li Wei sat at the head table, untouched wine in front of him, staring down at the embroidered napkin folded neatly on his lap.

People still whispered.

The food was exquisite. The venue beautiful. But the groom's indifference? Icy.

And all Li Wei could think was—

> If this is what being married feels like... I think I’d rather be alone.

---

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