Chapter 8

Chapter 8

On the day of the wedding, the Shen Family Mansion looked like a dream rehearsed to perfection.

White roses stretched from the front courtyard all the way to the chapel. From the glass canopy overhead hung thousands upon thousands of crystal strands, and when sunlight struck them, the floor scattered with shards of brilliance. Guests held flutes of champagne, smiling as they praised Xu Lingyi for her impeccable arrangements and remarked that Shen Jianwei, after so many years of keeping a low profile, had finally found such a good match.

No one knew that on the third floor of the West Building lay a man who should have been dead for eighteen years.

No one knew that beneath the bride’s wedding gown, her calf was injured, and against her chest she carried the paper her grandmother had left behind-the key to breaking this trap.

I sat before the vanity mirror and let the makeup artist work on my face.

Xu Lingyi came in once in person.

She had changed back into her pearl-white suit, as if the wine stain on last night’s qipao had never existed. A photographer and the wedding manager followed behind her. The moment she entered, she took my hand, tears shining in her eyes.

“Zhaomian, you look so beautiful today. From now on, we’re family.”

The camera aimed at us.

I smiled too, gentle and perfectly measured.

“Mom.”

The instant that word left my mouth, Xu Lingyi’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly.

The photographer was so moved that he snapped several shots in a row.

I looked into the lens and thought, This photo will probably become one of the pieces of evidence the Shen Family will most want to delete in the future.

At 9:50 a.m., the wedding began.

Shen Jianwei stood waiting for me at the end of the chapel. He wore a black formal suit, his shoulders and back held straight. His complexion looked a little better than it had last night; he must have been given an injection. The red carpet was long. With a hastily arranged elder on my arm, I walked forward. Every step landed on soft petals, yet it felt like crossing a frozen river.

I saw Xu Lingyi sitting in the front row.

Beside her was an empty seat. The host explained that it was a memorial seat reserved for the Shen Family’s eldest son, who had passed away young. A white rose was tied to the back of the chair, and the photograph was veiled beneath a layer of thin gauze.

How perfect.

Even the dead had been arranged by her with dignity.

When I reached Shen Jianwei, he reached out and took my hand. The moment our palms touched, I felt how cold his fingers were. They were trembling slightly.

The host read the vows, his voice warm and solemn.

“Mr. Shen Jianwei, do you take Miss Lin Zhaomian as your wife, to love her, respect her, and protect her, whether in poverty or wealth, in sickness or in health?”

Shen Jianwei looked at me.

His eyes were very deep, filled with too many words he could not say.

“I do.”

When it was my turn, the entire hall fell silent.

“Miss Lin Zhaomian, do you take Mr. Shen Jianwei as your husband, to love him, respect him, and stand by him, whether in poverty or wealth, in sickness or in health?”

I saw Xu Lingyi’s gaze settle on my face.

I said, “I do.”

Not that I was willing to hand over my life.

I was willing to see this performance through to the end.

After the rings were exchanged, the host announced the ancestral tea ceremony according to the program. The Shen Family preserved old customs, so a symbolic ancestral altar had been set up at the wedding venue, with an incense burner, red candles, and a genealogy book placed upon it. The guests found it novel, and cameras moved closer one after another.

Xu Lingyi rose with a smile and said, “The Shen Family values ceremony. Today, as our new bride enters the family, we ask all our honored elders here to bear witness.”

The old butler brought up a wooden box.

I heard people around us murmur in admiration, saying the Shen Family truly was particular about tradition-even the Marriage Contract had been preserved in such an elegant, antique style.

Xu Lingyi personally unfolded the Ancient Marriage Contract.

The dark-red paper was exposed beneath the lights. The burn marks, blood seals, and gold-dust patterns were all so clear they stung the eyes. The photographer gave it a close-up. A magnified portion of the Marriage Contract appeared simultaneously on the big screen, allowing every guest in the hall to see the old-fashioned marriage-blessing words on it, though none of them could understand the killing intent hidden within the designs.

Xu Lingyi handed me a silver needle.

“Zhaomian, press your fingerprint here, and the ancestral ceremony will be complete.”

Shen Jianwei’s grip on my hand suddenly tightened.

I knew he was warning me. I also knew he was afraid.

I took the silver needle, but I did not immediately prick my fingertip. Instead, I looked at Xu Lingyi.

“Mom, where should I press it?”

Xu Lingyi smiled and pointed to the starting point where the red line ran forward-the same place where she had wanted me to leave my print last night.

“Here.”

I lowered my eyes to look.

At that moment, the large screen on the side of the chapel suddenly flickered.

It was 10:28.

The close-up of the Marriage Contract on the screen jumped twice, then changed into a scanned nursing record.

The first line read:

“Shen Mingche, male, thirty-seven years old, long-term coma, special care ward, third floor, West Building.”

The entire hall went silent.

The smile on Xu Lingyi’s face froze.

In the next second, the screen continued switching. Medical records, photographs, audio files, and rubbings of the Ancient Marriage Contract popped up one after another. Through the chapel speakers, an old man’s voice spread from the recording:

“Shen Jianwei is the Yangyin. Lin Zhaomian is the Life Lamp. Only when the two are joined can Mingche wake.”

The guest area exploded into chaos.

Xu Lingyi whipped around. “Turn it off!”

The wedding team panicked. Some people yanked out cables; others rushed to seize the control console. But the livestream equipment had a backup feed. The screen went black, then lit up again. The recording cut off, then resumed. In the media section, someone had already raised a phone to film.

In the chaos, I pricked my fingertip.

A bead of blood welled up.

Xu Lingyi turned back around, and for the first time, real fear appeared in her eyes.

“Lin Zhaomian, don’t you dare!”

I ignored her.

I pressed my fingertip onto the endpoint where the red line ran in reverse.

The instant the blood fell, the Ancient Marriage Contract darkened in a spreading ring, as if the old paper were drinking it in.