Jiang Zhuoye arrived at Bo Yun’s estate a full week early to prepare.
He was, after all, a man of leisure. Still in university, but on summer break and utterly idle.
It was his wedding, yet everyone else seemed far more nervous than he was.
The venue was nearly ready. Bo Yun’s estate even had a small chapel—delicate and beautiful. That was where they would later exchange their thoroughly insincere vows.
The wedding planner was constantly making adjustments—music, flowers, guest gifts. Every detail had to be flawless.
Meanwhile, the world-renowned designer was still fussing over the attire, trying to make last-minute changes—first suggesting a brooch, then thinking an ear chain might be better.
The designer even said to him, “Darling, honestly, I think your red hair suited you better than black.”
They’d grown familiar recently, and the designer no longer bothered with polite distance.
Leaning against the sofa by the window, Jiang Zhuoye toyed with a necklace in his palm. He smiled at the designer. “Good taste. I think so too. Unfortunately, my parents and Bo Yun just don’t have enough aesthetic sense.”
The designer sighed in sympathetic understanding.
But then his attention was drawn to the object in Jiang Zhuoye’s hand.
It glimmered faintly—red light flickering.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing.
Jiang Zhuoye froze for a moment, then opened his hand, revealing what lay inside.
“Oh, it’s a necklace.” He held it out for the designer to see.
It was a red spinel pendant, square in shape. A thin layer of iridescent gemstone formed the surface, encircled by a ring of snowflake-like diamonds. When the top layer was lifted, a small sketch portrait of him was revealed inside.
The designer flipped the cover open and froze in surprise.
“Goodness, this is you,” he said, studying it carefully, then comparing it to Jiang Zhuoye’s face. “You look like you’re still in high school here. Was this custom-made just for you? It’s absolutely beautiful.”
He picked it up, inspiration clearly striking, and began holding it up against Jiang Zhuoye, comparing angles and placement.
He clicked his tongue in admiration. “The color of this gemstone is excellent. A spinel this large is hard to come by—you could easily send this to an auction house. The quality is that good.”
“Yes.” Jiang Zhuoye’s gaze lingered on the tiny portrait, his expression briefly complicated. Then he denied the designer’s assumption. “I didn’t commission this. It was a graduation gift from a stranger. To this day, I don’t know who gave it to me.”
“What?”
The designer was stunned. “Who would spend money like that?”
“No idea,” Jiang Zhuoye said with a soft laugh. “When I graduated, someone mailed me a package. Inside was a small box. It said it was for me and wished me a happy graduation. But this anonymous person never showed up.”
He shrugged. “What a pity. I’m actually pretty curious. If it were a good-looking girl—or a guy, that’d be fine too—I might’ve considered having a relationship with them.”
He hooked the necklace lightly with his finger, momentarily lost in thought.
In truth, after receiving the gift, he’d been puzzled for a while before stuffing it into a cabinet and more or less forgetting about it.
He figured that if the sender was too cowardly to show themselves, there was no need to guess what feelings they might have had toward him.
Whether it was admiration or affection didn’t really matter.
For a long time, he’d almost forgotten the necklace altogether. But recently, while packing his luggage, he’d unexpectedly found it again.
He’d held it in his hand and stared at it for quite a while.
At eighteen, he’d given up trying to find out who had given him the necklace.
Now he was twenty, about to marry the most sharp-tongued, infuriating man imaginable—and his curiosity had oddly resurfaced.
Jiang Zhuoye thought flippantly that if this person were to appear at the wedding now, he might just run away with them on the spot.
It actually sounded kind of interesting.
After all, marrying anyone would be better than marrying Bo Yun.
But his thoughts were interrupted by the designer.
“That sounds incredibly romantic,” the designer said, his expression almost syrupy as he clapped lightly. Then he deftly hooked the necklace out of Jiang Zhuoye’s hand. “This gives me an idea. Do you mind if I modify it a bit? I won’t ruin the overall design—just remove the chain. I think this would suit you perfectly as a brooch.”
He added sincerely, “The gemstone quality is excellent and extremely rare. This shade of red really complements you. Whoever gave you this necklace understood you very well.”
Jiang Zhuoye didn’t care much about anything related to the wedding.
But he was easygoing about things like this.
He nodded. “Do whatever you want.”
….
It wasn’t until the wedding day that the designer finally finished transforming the necklace into a brooch and pinned it to Jiang Zhuoye’s chest.
This vivid red really did suit him.
Gorgeous, with a natural, unrestrained flamboyance.
Perfectly in harmony with Jiang Zhuoye’s temperament.
Bo Yun only noticed the new accessory that morning during makeup. Jiang Zhuoye had already changed into his formal attire and was confirming with Jiang Xu that all the guests had arrived at the estate.
In the middle of their conversation, Bo Yun glanced over to check Jiang Zhuoye’s progress—and his eye caught that flash of red.
The designer was still painstakingly adjusting the angle, positioning the red spinel over Jiang Zhuoye’s left chest.
Bo Yun walked over and looked Jiang Zhuoye over a few times. Dressed in white formalwear, Jiang Zhuoye appeared softer than usual, quieter—but that touch of red drew out the restlessness and arrogance buried in his bones.
Below the brooch, a thin chain swayed gently, like an uneasy, wavering heart.
“What’s that?” he asked. “I don’t remember it being part of the outfit.”
Ha.
Jiang Zhuoye nearly laughed.
Control freak, he thought. Such a half-hearted wedding, yet Bo Yun was scrutinizing even the smallest details of his attire.
Petty to the extreme.
“Are you blind?” he said coldly. “It’s just a brooch. My personal item. We added it last minute because the designer and I thought it looked better. Is there a problem?”
Bo Yun’s gaze settled on the square red gemstone for several seconds.
He didn’t recall Jiang Zhuoye ever wearing jewelry like this.
But objectively speaking, the red spinel gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight, enhancing his features strikingly.
In the end, he said nothing.
“No problem.”
Bo Yun walked away again, heading over to the officiant to discuss something, and didn’t look back at Jiang Zhuoye.
….
A few hours later, Jiang Zhuoye and Bo Yun appeared together at the wedding venue.
Quite a number of media outlets were present, arranged toward the back—but cameras with long lenses had already claimed the best positions to broadcast this grand aristocratic wedding as quickly as possible.
Seated below were guests invited by both families. The Bo and Jiang families were prominent elites; many influential figures from politics and business were present, along with several well-known entertainment personalities sprinkled among the crowd. With a single sweep of the camera, it looked like a major awards ceremony.
Jiang Zhuoye casually scanned the audience. Aside from his overly invested brother—actually wiping away tears—his kind-faced parents, and his cousin clapping enthusiastically, the front rows also held his group of troublemaking friends, his real childhood companions.
Clearly, their acting wasn’t as refined as his brother’s.
Each of them wore pained expressions, forcing smiles for the cameras while horror leaked unmistakably from their eyes.
They were obviously not used to seeing him standing hand in hand with Bo Yun.
Jiang Zhuoye nearly burst out laughing.
But he maintained his composure with admirable grace.
He withdrew his gaze and looked at Bo Yun across from him.
After the lengthy preliminary rituals ended, the two of them, hands clasped, walked together down the red carpet and through the archway, finally standing before the officiant.
The officiant was one of Bo Yun’s uncles, a high-ranking figure in politics, known for his stern and upright demeanor. He probably never imagined that he’d one day officiate a same-sex wedding—much less for his own nephew. He delivered the speech with extreme caution, enunciating every word clearly.
When the beautiful, false blessings concluded—
He asked, “Mr. Jiang Zhuoye, do you agree to take Bo Yun as your partner, whether in prosperity or adversity, wealth or poverty, health or sickness, to cherish him, care for him, and never leave him?”
Jiang Zhuoye thought: like hell I do.
This man didn’t look like someone who could ever fall into poverty or illness—he looked capable of killing a bull bare-handed.
But he still put on a polite smile and answered loudly, “I do.”
For a brief moment, his thoughts drifted. As a child, he’d really been that foolish—believing that an engagement was a life-altering matter, that he had to marry Bo Yun and treat him well.
Only after growing up did he realize how utterly ridiculous that idea was.
Marriage was unreliable.
Vows were false.
Even with certificates and signatures, they were still two individuals who would never interfere with each other.
The uncle then posed the same question to Bo Yun.
Bo Yun’s gaze rested deeply on Jiang Zhuoye, lingering on the red gemstone at his chest.
At that moment, an insignificant thought crossed his mind.
Letting Jiang Zhuoye get married with red hair wouldn’t have mattered either—after all, red suited him exceptionally well.
His expression remained calm as he said, “I do.”
The officiant let out a long breath, visibly relaxing at last. Smiling, he said, “Then please exchange rings and kiss each other.”
Jiang Zhuoye nearly lost control of his expression. He subtly turned his head so the cameras wouldn’t capture his face.
“I don’t remember this being part of the program,” he hissed through his teeth. “You slipped this in, didn’t you?”
“Unfortunately, it is,” Bo Yun shattered his hope. “PR suggested adding it. They said a kiss would better prove that this marriage is founded on love and would benefit publicity. Your brother and I both agreed. You were there at the time—but you clearly weren’t listening.”
Jiang Zhuoye looked ready to breathe fire.
The diamond ring on his finger felt scalding hot.
“Don’t even think about it,” he snarled. “I’ll bite your lip and spit in your mouth.”
Bo Yun sneered. “Go ahead, if you want to become a global laughingstock.”
The officiant’s composure was seconds away from cracking. He’d weathered countless storms in politics, but this was his first time witnessing such a scene.
How could people reach the wedding stage without even agreeing on the process?
How could a marriage alliance be treated so frivolously?
Take this seriously!
But the two grooms clearly ignored him.
Neither willing to yield, Jiang Zhuoye was taut from head to toe, looking genuinely ready to punch Bo Yun at any second.
This stalemate wasn’t going anywhere.
Bo Yun glanced at the audience, his expression unchanged. He placed one hand on Jiang Zhuoye’s waist and forcefully pulled him closer.
As he leaned in, he spoke quickly, “Stop making trouble. Cooperate. I’ll avoid your lips as much as possible.”
Jiang Zhuoye froze, not yet processing it—
And then Bo Yun kissed him.
He only felt something soft brush the corner of his mouth.
Bo Yun had kissed Jiang Zhuoye—but only at the edge of his lips.
Jiang Zhuoye clenched his hand in Bo Yun’s suit. For a split second, it felt like stepping into thin air—his heart lurched in panic.
Damn it.
He cursed inwardly. This was his first kiss.
But this was his wedding ceremony. He couldn’t bail out now.
So he could only remain silent, passive, and accept the kiss.
Bo Yun’s lips weren’t lined with fangs, didn’t bite him bloody like some monster.
In fact, Bo Yun’s lips were soft, carrying a faint warmth.
Jiang Zhuoye could even smell the light scent of perfume on him—cedarwood mixed with incense.
Bo Yun kissed him for seven seconds, giving the audience plenty of time to capture it, then slowly let go.
Their eyes met.
Jiang Zhuoye’s face had taken on a faint flush. Anyone who didn’t know better might think it was shyness.
Only he knew it was pure anger. He couldn’t show it, so he vented by viciously gripping Bo Yun’s wrist.
Bo Yun remained expressionless, as though he felt nothing at all.
The cheering and laughter from the guests below were barely contained. Most people present maintained their composure and decorum, but there were always some young guests who couldn’t resist indulging in a bit of good-natured teasing at moments like this.
Jiang Zhuoye’s childhood friends hissed one after another, hearts aching, as if their precious cabbage had finally been rooted up by a pig.
Meanwhile, Bo Yun’s grandfather looked radiant, deeply satisfied—as though proud that his family’s pig had finally learned how to root up cabbage.
Bo Yun’s grandfather was seated beside Jiang Zhuoye’s parents in the front row, as befitted close family.
He clasped his hands over his black cane and said to Jiang Zhuoye’s parents, “These two children are quite well matched, aren’t they?”
Liang Jie smiled as she watched Bo Yun and Jiang Zhuoye take each other’s hands again as the ceremony required.
Amused, she thought that her poor youngest son was clearly on the verge of exploding.
Still, seeing Bo Yun lean down to speak to Jiang Zhuoye, she nodded. “Yes, they suit each other very well.”
She thought of how her beloved son, when he was little, had been utterly determined to marry Bo Yun.
Wasn’t this, in a way, a childhood wish coming true?