The courtyard doors opened, and Xueyi was guided forward, the weight of her red wedding robes settling on her shoulders like a very expensive punishment. Silk layered over silk, embroidery over embroidery—apparently, ancient China believed a bride should be crushed under tradition before the marriage even began.
*Desi brides get lehngas,* she thought grimly. *Heavy, yes—but at least they can breathe. This? This is an elaborate red prison.*
The sedan chair waited ahead, lacquered wood gleaming, red silk fluttering dramatically as if it, too, knew this was a big moment. Servants helped her step inside, careful, reverent, painfully slow.
*Wonderful,* she sighed internally. *I'm officially boxed and transported like a ceremonial artifact.*
The chair lifted, swaying slightly as the bearers began to move. Her heart immediately forgot how to beat at a normal pace.
*Relax,* she told herself. *This is fine. People do this all the time. In novels. Definitely not in real life. Which means—yes—this is probably a hallucination.*
Her gaze drifted outside the thin veil of the sedan, scanning the figures lining the path. Guests whispered, servants bowed, some stared like they were witnessing history in motion.
And then—of course—she saw him.
Jin Wei walked beside the procession, not drawing attention, not hiding either. Straight back. Steady steps. Face calm to the point of unfairness.
She narrowed her eyes. *Oh. There he is.*
Earlier, she had amused herself with the thought that Jin Wei must be just as miserable as she was—drowning in layers, suffocating under ceremonial rules, secretly wishing to burn the robes and flee.
Now that she saw him?
*Absolutely not miserable. Not even slightly inconvenienced. I bet he slept peacefully last night too. Monsters like him always do.*
He didn't fidget. Didn't adjust his robes. Didn't look like someone being forced into a wedding full of rituals and nonsense. He looked like he was attending a routine military briefing.
*This is offensive,* she decided. *I'm having a full internal crisis, and he's standing there like he's guarding a door.*
The drums sounded—slow, rhythmic, ceremonial. The chair swayed again, and Xueyi grabbed the silk in her lap.
*Okay. Focus. You're a bride. A dignified bride. Not someone who wants to scream that this is fiction and she would like to wake up now, please.*
The procession halted. The chair was lowered.
Her feet touched the ground, knees wobbling just enough to betray her nerves. She inhaled slowly, reminding herself—again—that this was probably not real.
*This is a novel,* she insisted. *A very dramatic, very overfunded novel. Any second now, I'll wake up.*
She looked up.
Jin Wei stood a short distance away, waiting.
No tension. No hesitation. No nerves.
Nothing.
The realization hit her harder than the weight of the phoenix crown.
*Why… why am I the only one terrified?*
*Isn't this supposed to be equally traumatic for both parties?*
Her chest tightened, not with fear—but something far more annoying.
*How dare he be calm?*
*How dare he look like this is exactly where he belongs while I feel like I'm about to trip over destiny itself?
After few moments later, everyone stopped. As I looked outside we have reached the general mansion. Someone came to help her out.
*Ah yes,* she thought as she was helped out of the sedan chair, *nothing says romance like entering your husband's house under strategic-level discipline.*
The gates opened.
Slowly. Loudly. Impressively.
Xueyi stepped forward, her heart thudding.
*Okay. New location. Same hallucination. Consistency is important.*
The moment she crossed the threshold, someone announced, "The General's bride has entered."
Every head turned.
Every. Single. One.
*Fantastic,* she sighed internally. *I'm not a person anymore. I'm an event.*
She could feel eyes crawling over her—curious, respectful, calculating.
*Are they judging my posture? My breathing? The way I exist? Because I promise, I'm judging myself too.*
Beside her, Jin Wei walked in silence.
Same calm. Same unreadable expression. Same "I have conquered worse things than this doorway" energy.
*I hope you step on your robe later,* she thought bitterly.
Inside the main hall, another altar awaited.
*Another one?*
*How many gods do we need to inform that I am married? Surely one celestial memo was enough.*
The matron cleared her throat. "Madam, please perform the threshold ritual."
Xueyi blinked.
*Threshold ritual?*
*I didn't rehearse for this side quest.*
She was handed a small brazier with glowing embers.
"Step over it," the matron instructed kindly.
*Ah. Fire. Casual. Love that for me.*
She lifted her foot carefully.
The hem of her robe lagged behind.
Her soul nearly left her body.
*If I catch fire on my wedding day, I will haunt everyone equally.*
She made it over.
Alive.
Jin Wei followed effortlessly, as if stepping over fire was a daily habit.
*Of course it is,* she thought. *Probably did it during military training.*
Inside, she was guided to sit on the edge of the bed—*the* bed.
Red curtains. Red sheets. Red pillows embroidered with dragons and phoenixes staring at her like witnesses.
*I will not unpack what this symbolizes. I refuse.*
Servants bustled around, placing dates, peanuts, and longan fruit on a tray.
*Oh,* she realized. *Symbolic snacks.*
The matron smiled. "For fertility and harmony."
Xueyi's soul attempted to exit again.
*Ma'am. I just survived kidnapping. Let's not discuss future generations today.*
Jin Wei stood nearby, hands behind his back, looking like he was guarding the bed rather than sharing it.
*Sir,* she mentally snapped at him, *you could at least look awkward. Blink weirdly. Anything.*
Instead, he accepted a cup of tea.
They performed the tea ritual—slow, careful, painfully formal.
Xueyi bowed.
He accepted.
He bowed.
She accepted.
*Why does this feel like diplomatic negotiations?*
*Are we signing a peace treaty or a marriage?*
When it was finally done, the servants retreated—too slowly for her liking.
And then…
Silence.
Just the two of them.
The room felt suddenly too small.
Xueyi sat there, hands folded, spine straight, pretending she wasn't internally screaming.
*Say something,* she urged herself. *Anything. A joke. A comment. A complaint about the robes.*
Jin Wei spoke first.
"You handled the ceremony well."
That was it.
No praise. No emotion. No unnecessary words.
*Handled,* she repeated mentally. *Like a battlefield drill. Excellent. Five stars.*
She glanced up at him.
He looked… exactly the same.
Untroubled. Steady. Present.
*I went through an emotional marathon today,* she thought. *And he looks like he just returned from a light jog.*
Her shoulders slumped a fraction.
*This is unfair. Deeply unfair.*
She took a breath.
"Well," she said lightly, sarcasm slipping through despite herself, "I'm glad at least one of us wasn't traumatized by the experience."
For the briefest moment—so brief she almost missed it—something shifted in his eyes.
Not laughter.
But acknowledgment.
And somehow, that made her feel both calmer and more unsettled.
*Great,* she thought. *Now I live here.*
*With him.*
*In this house.*
*In this novel.*
She straightened her back again.
*Fine. One step at a time. First survive the wedding night. Then we'll worry about everything else.*