The wedding concierge sang with a laugh, "The bride is getting on the sedan chair—"
Under the bridal veil, Meng Qianqian whispered, "Grand Commander."
Lu Yuan replied coldly, "What is it?"
Meng Qianqian said, "I am going to get on the sedan chair now."
Lu Yuan snorted, "I know."
Meng Qianqian looked at her hand clasped firmly in his palm. "You have to let go of my hand, so I can get on the sedan chair."
Lu Yuan: "…"
With an aloof expression, Lu Yuan released his grip, and Meng Qianqian got onto the grand eight-person sedan chair.
With the bridal veil covering her, she could see nothing except the ground beneath her feet; even the bearers carrying the sedan chair were unknown to her.
Yet, at the very moment the sedan chair was lifted, she distinctly felt something unusual.
She drew the curtain of the bridal sedan chair aside.
The wedding concierge walking alongside asked, "Bride, is something the matter?"
