Both Qiao Qingyan and Chen Xiaomeng’s weddings were set for the second day of the month.
The dates were decided by the two grooms’ families separately. Though somewhat rushed, it was the only auspicious day for marriage in the past two months.
That day, Shidianzi Village was filled with the clamor of gongs and drums and the crackle of firecrackers.
Quite a few relatives and friends came to the house, and Chen Xiuying and Qiao Nianshan busied themselves receiving and greeting them.
Two bicycles were parked at the entrance of the Qiao family’s run-down courtyard.
Jiang Runsheng wore a white shirt and dark navy trousers, with a big red flower pinned to his chest. He was handsome and upright, yet there was not a trace of joy on his face.
He held the handlebars of his bicycle, his gaze not falling on Chen Xiaomeng’s face, but instead looking in surprise at Qiao Qingyan standing to the side.
The two sisters stood together, both with their hair in braids, yet their appearances and temperaments were worlds apart.
Chen Xiaomeng had dark skin, and today she wore a brand-new, heavy and elaborate bright red dress, which only made her skin look darker.
She took after her mother’s looks—high cheekbones, thin lips, a harsh countenance, a scrawny figure, and a rustic air about her entire being.
Qiao Qingyan, by contrast, wore only a simple old pink dress of thin fabric, which set off her fair skin and made her face look delicate and lovely.
With a willow waist and slender legs, she was not exactly thin—she had flesh where flesh ought to be, giving off a soft, fair, glutinous impression.
Just standing there, she was as beautiful as a figure from a painting.
What had possessed him back then, to cast aside such a beautiful fiancée and instead roll in the haystack with Chen Xiaomeng?
Jiang Runsheng set his bicycle aside and strode toward the two of them.
When he drew near, Chen Xiaomeng immediately stepped forward with a beaming smile and took his arm. “Runsheng ge~”
But Jiang Runsheng’s gaze, as if drawn by a magnet, was firmly glued to Qiao Qingyan.
“Qingyan.” He could not help calling her name.
Chen Xiaomeng’s smile froze on her face, and her expression turned sinister and ugly.
[Qiao Qingyan, even at a time like this, you still dare to seduce Runsheng ge, you shameless bitch!]
Qiao Qingyan cast Chen Xiaomeng a cold glance and shook her head helplessly, as though the other were a clown not worth a second more of her attention.
It was then that Jiang Runsheng suddenly noticed that Qiao Qingyan also had a small red flower pinned to her chest.
His heart clenched. He pointed at the flower, his voice trembling slightly: “What is this…”
Qiao Qingyan curved her lips and pointed to the other bicycle, saying calmly: “Runsheng ge, I am getting married today.”
“What?” Jiang Runsheng’s pupils shrank sharply, and he stared at her in disbelief. “What did you say? You’re getting married?”
She had only just broken off their engagement not long ago—how could she possibly be marrying someone else so soon?
Jiang Runsheng was dumbstruck, his expression as if frozen in place. “Qingyan, are you saying this just to spite me?”
Qiao Qingyan sneered: “Why would I use my own lifelong matter to spite you? Runsheng ge, you overestimate yourself too much. The world does not revolve around you.”
That single sentence was like a loud slap across Jiang Runsheng’s face.
“Runsheng ge, Qingyan really is getting married today. She’s marrying into the Xiao family in the neighboring village. From now on, she’ll be another man’s wife,” Chen Xiaomeng said.
From the corner of her eye, she glanced contemptuously at Qiao Qingyan. [Hmph, go marry that uneducated, cold brute. Once you’re ground down in the Xiao family and become a poor, ugly village woman, I’d like to see how you’ll still be so proud then, and whether Runsheng ge will even spare you a glance!]
But Jiang Runsheng still refused to believe it. He stubbornly insisted that Qiao Qingyan’s sudden decision to marry someone else—and on the very same day as him, no less—must be to spite him. It must mean she still cared about him.
Moreover, in Jiang Runsheng’s memory, Qiao Qingyan had always been fond of him.
They had grown up together in the same village, running and playing on the field ridges, playing house together.
Later, Qiao Qingyan went to the city with her aunt. Unexpectedly, by a stroke of fate, he ended up attending the same high school as her.
At school, they were the envy of everyone—a handsome couple. Though neither had openly confessed their feelings, they were far closer than ordinary friends.
Jiang Runsheng had long since regarded Qiao Qingyan as his girlfriend, as his future wife.
Later, when he was assigned to work at the township broadcasting station, as soon as he settled in, he couldn’t wait to tell his parents about his intention to marry Qiao Qingyan.
The two naturally became engaged—a childhood sweetheart pair that everyone favored, innocent and inseparable.
If Chen Xiaomeng hadn’t actively seduced him, clinging to him after he’d had a bit to drink, and wedged herself in between them, today it would be him and Qingyan getting married.
Thinking of this, Jiang Runsheng felt as though his chest were stuffed with cotton—an unbearable suffocation.
No. He couldn’t just watch Qiao Qingyan marry a man she didn’t love—and a boorish hunter with no education at that. He couldn’t watch her ruin her own life.
Jiang Runsheng stepped forward and earnestly tried to persuade her:
“Qingyan, marriage is a lifelong matter. You can’t let your emotions get the better of you. You can’t be so impulsive. I know you’re still angry with me in your heart. About me and Xiaomeng—I can explain, I can make it up to you…”
The more he spoke, the more absurd it became.
Qiao Qingyan shook her head helplessly. Without waiting for him to finish, she cut him off:
“Runsheng-ge, I’m still calling you Runsheng-ge now out of respect for the bond we’ve shared since childhood. This is also the last time I’ll clarify this to you: I have never had any romantic feelings for you. And I don’t care who you’re with.”
“Today is a joyous day for each of us. I don’t want to ruin the atmosphere over these things. From now on, let’s each live well. As a little sister, I sincerely wish you happiness.”
Chen Xiaomeng stood to the side, her nails digging into her palms, yet she still had to maintain the smile of a bride.
From the moment Jiang Runsheng arrived at the Qiao household, he hadn’t glanced at her once, hadn’t said a single word to her. His gaze fell openly and entirely on Qiao Qingyan, as if she—the legitimate bride—were nothing but an insignificant, invisible person.
Did he even know who was supposed to be bowing with him in the ceremony today?
What infuriated her even more was that the surrounding relatives, friends, and neighbors—several women gathered together whispering—were all praising Qiao Qingyan’s beauty, saying she was far more outstanding than herself.
They thought they were speaking quietly enough that Chen Xiaomeng couldn’t hear, but every word drilled into Chen Xiaomeng’s ears without missing a single syllable.
If it weren’t her wedding day, she would have walked right up to them and slapped them across the face!
What a waste—she had dressed up so beautifully today, worn a new dress, applied lip color… all to outshine Qiao Qingyan on this day.
Afraid that Qiao Qingyan would steal her spotlight on her wedding day, she had even specifically told her mother in advance not to prepare new clothes for Qiao Qingyan, making her marry in an old dress.
But who would have thought that Qiao Qingyan just stood there, and her fair, plain face instantly overshadowed her.
Qiao Qingyan, oh Qiao Qingyan, why?
As long as you’re around, I’ll always be that drab, overlooked one. Everyone’s eyes only ever fall on you. Why?
The noisy voices were irritating. Qiao Qingyan frowned, ignored the two of them, straightened her back, and turned to walk toward another bicycle.
The one riding the bike was a relative sent by the groom’s mother to escort the bride. Along with their bicycles was a donkey cart carrying her dowry bedding, along with some brand-new pots, pans, bowls, and daily necessities.
She stuffed the two hundred yuan in bills deeper into her pocket, without casting another glance at this home or these people. After sitting securely, she said softly to the relative pedaling the bike, “Let’s go.”
Jiang Runsheng stood there like a statue, his constantly trembling fingers betraying the panic and turmoil within.
Watching Qiao Qingyan get on the bicycle, her figure about to recede into the distance, he instinctively stepped forward, wanting to chase after her, but his wrist was firmly grabbed by Chen Xiaomeng.
Chen Xiaomeng’s voice carried grievance and dissatisfaction: “Runsheng ge, she’s already said things to that extent. Don’t chase after her anymore.”
“Today I am your bride.”
That one sentence was like a basin of cold water, instantly waking Jiang Runsheng from his obsession.
He withdrew his gaze and looked down at Chen Xiaomeng beside him.
Her dark face was dusted with powder, and up close, it revealed a strange grayish-white hue.
Gilding the lily, an ugly imitation of a beauty—she would have looked cleaner and fresher without the makeup.
One misstep, and he had lost his most beloved Qingyan, marrying another woman.
Jiang Runsheng painfully raised his head to look at the sky, wishing a torrential downpour would come right now to drench him awake, to let him break free from this absurd and terrifying nightmare.
That courtyard, with the bumping of the bicycle, swayed in Qiao Qingyan’s vision, growing farther and farther away.
She vaguely saw Chen Xiaomeng and Chen Xiuying holding hands and crying at the doorway—a mother reluctantly seeing off her daughter about to be married.
She saw her father, Qiao Nianshan, standing at the door, glancing in her direction.
What was in that gaze, Qiao Qingyan couldn’t see clearly, and she no longer cared in the slightest.