A group of people stood in the Lu family courtyard.
At the front was a man dressed in wedding attire similar in quality to what Lu Qingran was wearing.
Without needing to think, this had to be Yan Dalang—though Lu Qingran couldn’t see him beneath her veil.
The members of the Lu family were all gathered in the courtyard. When they saw Lu Qingran approach, Old Master Lu said, “Qingran, although you’ve severed ties with us, I still hope you’ll live well in the future. Go on!”
Under her veil, Lu Qingran let out a cold laugh and said, “I’m not the one originally betrothed to you, yet now I’m the one who has to marry you. Will you take me as your wife or not?”
“I will,” came a deep, pleasant male voice—low and resonant.
Lu Qingran’s words had made the Lu family’s hearts leap into their throats, but now they finally relaxed.
“Mother, isn’t the Yan family too poor? Not only did they come with so few people to fetch the bride, they even came on foot. Are they expecting the bride to walk back herself?” Lu Qingqing mocked from the side, her tone dripping with sarcasm, making the faces of those who came to fetch the bride turn sour.
Lu Qingran heard her as well. Just as she was about to walk to the Yan family on her own, that same deep voice spoke again.
“I’ll carry you home.”
He crouched down in front of her. Lu Qingran didn’t hesitate and climbed onto his back.
Though the man was thin, his back was broad, giving a sense of security. Each step he took was steady, and as she lay on his back, she didn’t feel the slightest bump.
Lu Family Village was fairly large. The Lu family lived at the eastern entrance, while the Yan family was at the western end, near the foot of Four Kings Mountain.
And so, Lu Qingran was carried all the way there on Yan Dalang’s back.
The Yan household was lively. Before they even arrived, children could be heard shouting, “The bride is here! The bride is here!”
Yan Dalang carried Lu Qingran straight into the main hall. Bowing to Heaven and Earth, bowing to the parents, the couple bowing to each other, and finally sending the bride to the bridal chamber—everything was completed in one smooth flow.
At last, her veil was lifted.
A tall, slender figure came into view. The man’s features were handsome: thick brows, large eyes, deep and intelligent gaze, and a straight nose.
Lu Qingran’s first thought was: Hmm… this bargain husband of mine is actually quite good-looking.
The room fell silent. After waiting for a long time without hearing him speak, Lu Qingran took the initiative.
“Aren’t you going out to receive the guests?”
“I am,” he replied. “I’ll have my younger sister bring you some food. Don’t be afraid—my family is easy to get along with.”
“Alright, I understand.”
After he left, Lu Qingran looked around the room. Mud walls, thatched roof—aside from the bed she was sitting on, there was only a crudely made table and a chair.
Poverty was evident in every corner.
The lively chatter from outside drifted in. Just as she was growing bored, the door creaked open, and a little girl of about four or five peeked inside.
“Big sister-in-law, may I come in?” she asked in a soft, gentle voice.
Lu Qingran quickly invited her in. The girl’s clothes were old and faded, clearly worn for a long time. She carried a bowl filled to the brim.
“Big sister-in-law, Mother asked me to bring you food. Eat quickly!” the girl said, swallowing unconsciously.
Looking at the large bowl of rice topped with several slices of meat, Lu Qingran asked curiously, “Have you eaten?”
The girl shook her head, then nodded again. Her adorable behavior made Lu Qingran smile.
“Big sister-in-law is so pretty. You look even prettier when you smile. But your head is injured—does it hurt?”
Lu Qingran shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. What’s your name? What’s your rank in the family?”
“My name is Yan Zimeng. I’m the fifth child. Everyone calls me Xiao Wu. You can call me that too.”
The little girl was so well-behaved that Lu Qingran instantly liked her.
“Xiao Wu, I can’t finish all this. Eat with me, and tell me about everyone in the family, alright?”
Yan Zimeng’s eyes lit up, but she quickly shook her head. “Mother said this is all for you. I can’t eat it.”
“It’s fine—I can’t finish it. Mother won’t blame you,” Lu Qingran reassured.
In the end, the aroma of the food won. Still, the girl urged Lu Qingran to eat first.
While Lu Qingran ate, Xiao Wu introduced the family.
Their branch had been driven out of the main Yan family, almost like severing ties. The elders in the house were now Lu Qingran’s parents-in-law.
Lu Qingran’s husband was the eldest son, Yan Zihao, seventeen years old, usually called Dalang.
He had four younger siblings:
The eldest younger brother, Yan Ziyi, fourteen, called Erlang.The eldest younger sister, Yan Ziyue, twelve.The second younger brother, Yan Ziming, five, called Silang.And the youngest was Yan Zimeng, also five—a twin with Yan Silang, but born a moment later, making her the youngest and the family’s little joy.
Children couldn’t hide their feelings. From the way Xiao Wu spoke about her family, Lu Qingran could tell they were kind people—easy to get along with.
By the time the introductions ended, Lu Qingran had finished eating, though more than half the food remained. She had only eaten one piece of meat.
After all, she had her secret space and could nourish herself later. As for the little girl, she didn’t yet have a good reason to give her food.
Seeing the leftover food, Xiao Wu asked, “Big sister-in-law, is that all you’re eating?”
“Yes, I’m full. Go get a pair of clean chopsticks and eat with me,” Lu Qingran said.
“There’s still so much—I can’t finish it either. Can I share it with my brothers and sisters?” Xiao Wu asked.
“Of course. Go quickly, before it gets cold—it might upset your stomach,” Lu Qingran said gently.
Watching the girl leave with the bowl, Lu Qingran returned to sit by the bed.
She thought that even without love, she and Yan Dalang could live their lives together with mutual respect.
At that moment, she had no idea that this man would cherish her for a lifetime—and that she herself would slowly come to love him deeply.
Time passed, and the noise outside gradually faded. Xiao Wu never returned, likely busy elsewhere.
Creak— the door opened again.
Thinking it was Xiao Wu, Lu Qingran looked up with a smile.
The next moment, Yan Dalang, still in his red wedding clothes, walked in. Their eyes met. Seeing her smile, the corners of his lips lifted slightly.
“Xiao Wu said you only ate a little. Was it not to your taste?” he asked.
“No, I just wasn’t very hungry. Have the guests all left?” she replied.
“Yes, they’ve all gone. Only our family remains.”
Lu Qingran nodded. Silence filled the room once more. After a long while, Yan Zihao spoke again.
“Let me introduce the family to you.”
“No need—Xiao Wu already told me,” she said.
“Then tell me about yourself. When I went to fetch the bride earlier, the Lu—”
Before he could finish, Lu Qingran interrupted him.
“My name is Lu Qingran. I’m the daughter of Lu Dayong’s first wife. The one betrothed to you was my stepsister, but she refused to marry. My family didn’t want to return your bride price, so they forced me to take her place. I used that as a condition to sever ties with them.”
“And your head injury?” Yan Zihao asked, his gaze lingering on her wound.
“It’s nothing,” she replied.
Seeing she didn’t want to elaborate, he didn’t press further—he could already guess.
“My name is Yan Zihao. My parents and the villagers call me Dalang. You can call me that—or anything you like.”
“Alright. There’s something I want to say in advance,” Lu Qingran said.
“What is it?”
“We’re already husband and wife. What I want is a one-to-one lifetime. If you ever fall for someone else in the future, tell me directly and we can—”
“It won’t happen,” Yan Zihao said firmly. “In this life, I will have only one wife—you.”
“…Alright.”