Chapter 36: "A Match Made in Heaven"

In the midst of the crowd, Song Qingyou was conversing with an elder when she happened to glance up and catch sight of Lin Niaoniao. By all rights, at this hour, Lin Niaoniao should still be applying her makeup, preparing for the wedding ceremony to come. Yet here she was, arriving in nothing more than a simple dress, her enthusiasm as if she were reuniting with an old friend long separated. “Miss Song, it really is you! What brings you here? I thought you held a grudge against me and wouldn’t come.”

When both the ex-wife and the new bride appear together, there’s bound to be trouble. Many guests, though keeping their distance, had their ears pricked for gossip. Compared to Lin Niaoniao’s overzealous greeting, Song Qingyou remained as composed as ever, her voice calm and unhurried, just loud enough for those around to hear.

“Miss Lin, you must be joking. You specially sent someone to deliver an invitation to my door, making it clear how much you wanted me to attend your and Mr. Fu’s wedding. If I didn’t come, others would say I’m small-minded, forever at odds with my ex-husband’s new wife.”

There was an unmistakable undertone to her words, and at that, everyone present couldn’t help but turn to look at Lin Niaoniao. So, she’d managed to become the legitimate wife after being the other woman, and now had the audacity to provoke her predecessor, thinking she wouldn’t dare show up.

From the looks of it, Song Qingyou seemed long past caring; it was this newly minted Mrs. Fu who was pestering her husband’s ex, endlessly competing for a man.

Lin Niaoniao’s eyelids twitched; she forced down her anger, pinning Song Qingyou with a hard stare. Clenching her teeth, she managed a smile. “Miss Song, you’re too kind. I sincerely hoped you would come. If you hadn’t stepped aside, there’d be no way for Ting Shen and me to reconcile. So, to thank you for your generosity, I’ve prepared a special gift for you later today.”

Song Qingyou’s expression remained gentle, a warm smile gracing her lips. “I also have a gift for you.”

“There’s no need, your presence is enough,” Lin Niaoniao replied.

“It’s necessary,” Song Qingyou said, covering her lips as she coughed lightly. “After all, today is your big day.”

Their eyes met, but before Lin Niaoniao could respond, someone called her away, saying the auspicious hour had arrived and she needed to change.

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and smiled softly. “I’ll take my leave for now. Miss Song, you mustn’t rush off.”

Song Qingyou replied, “Don’t worry. After all the care you’ve shown me in the past, I’ll accompany you to the very end today.”

Lin Niaoniao let out a light laugh. “That’s for the best.”

She turned away, all smiles, but as soon as she reached a secluded spot, her expression vanished, leaving only cold malice. She cast a venomous glance back in Song Qingyou’s direction before leaving.

“Qingyou, I don’t trust that Lin Niaoniao. Be careful around her,” an elder who had a good impression of Song Qingyou quietly advised. Lin Niaoniao clearly wasn’t to be trifled with, and with Song Qingyou’s gentle nature, in the Fu family’s territory, who could say whether she’d end up being bullied?

Song Qingyou smiled sincerely. “It’s all right, Auntie.”

Seeing she wasn’t worried, the elder left it at that.

Song Qingyou disliked lingering in crowded places, especially since most of today’s guests were close to the Fu family. As Fu Tingshen’s ex-wife, her presence at her ex-husband’s wedding was bound to draw attention and controversy.

So she found a quiet corner to sit and enjoy a moment’s peace.

She had barely settled when a commotion erupted at the entrance. Song Qingyou was chatting idly with Yan Miao on her phone, having just mentioned attending her ex-husband’s wedding, when she heard the disturbance and instinctively looked up—

And immediately froze.

Fu Wenzhou stood beneath the brightest pool of light, his custom-tailored suit immaculate, his hair meticulously styled, lending him an air of solemnity he rarely wore.

In that moment, as he appeared, it was as though the world around him faded to grey, and he became the sole focus of all attention.

Even from several meters away and through the crowd, as Song Qingyou’s gaze met his, he seemed to sense her looking. Their eyes met across the distance, and the previously cold-faced man offered her a faint smile.

It was a subtle smile, just the barest lift of his lips, but in his dark eyes there was a glimmer of light. At that instant, Song Qingyou felt as if struck by something unseen, something blooming in her chest.

A single phrase sprang to mind: “As noble as jade, as elegant as an orchid.”

Fu Wenzhou, carefully groomed, was the very embodiment of those words.

Upon seeing her, Fu Wenzhou abandoned everyone else and strode directly toward her, oblivious to the stares.

Song Qingyou’s heart tightened; she wanted nothing more than to avoid him.

Just then, the stage lights shifted, and the master of ceremonies took the podium, drawing everyone’s attention. Song Qingyou seized the chance to slip away to another seat.

But scarcely had she sat down when the lights above dimmed and Fu Wenzhou appeared at her side.

He looked almost aggrieved. “Why are you avoiding me?”

Song Qingyou hesitated. “There are too many people. Don’t make a scene.”

She genuinely feared Fu Wenzhou might act out here.

He chuckled and dropped into the seat beside her, draping his arm along the back of her chair, effectively enclosing her in his embrace.

“I promise I won’t,” he said.

At this, Song Qingyou shot him a strange look, as if the sun had risen in the west. Since when had he become so well-behaved?

Before she could finish the thought, Fu Wenzhou leaned in, his lips nearly brushing her earlobe as he whispered, “You look stunning today.”

His tone was low, tinged with a husky warmth that sent a shiver through her, his breath hot against her sensitive skin, electrifying her from head to toe.

Her fingers curled unconsciously.

He went on, “I want to see you all dressed up, but I want you to dress up only for me. Qingyou, what am I supposed to do?”

His lips grazed her earlobe, teasing deliberately.

Song Qingyou’s heart gave a violent jolt. She hurriedly pushed him away. “Fu Wenzhou!”

He straightened at her gentle shove, a fond smile on his lips as he looked at her flushed, indignant face, clearly delighted.

On stage, the emcee was inviting Fu Tingshen up. Under the opulent lights, Fu Tingshen, impeccably groomed, looked every inch the perfect groom.

Putting everything else aside, objectively speaking, Fu Tingshen was indeed handsome. Back then, his looks had certainly played a part in her agreeing to the marriage alliance.

Yet, for all his good looks, he was blind enough to fall for someone like Lin Niaoniao.

As it happened, the two of them even looked somewhat alike—a perfect match in appearance and temperament, a pair truly made for each other.

Serves them right to end up together.

Thinking of this, Song Qingyou’s lips curved in a genuine smile, offering them her heartfelt wishes for a lifetime together.

Suddenly, someone caught her chin. Startled, she found Fu Wenzhou’s handsome face filling her vision.

No matter how attractive, anyone up close looked a bit distorted.

She blinked in confusion and tried to swat his hand away. “Don’t mess around.”

If one listened closely, there was a hint of begrudging indulgence in her tone, beyond mere helplessness.

Fu Wenzhou, sharp as ever, picked up on it immediately. He pressed his advantage, edging closer. “Is Fu Tingshen good-looking?”

On stage, Fu Tingshen was smiling gently, drawing admiring glances from many women below. Song Qingyou’s brow twitched. “He’s all right.”

“All right as in good, or not good?” Fu Wenzhou pressed, determined to get to the bottom of it.

Song Qingyou shot him a glance, paused deliberately, then replied, “He’s good-looking.”

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes flashed, and he moved even closer. “And compared to me?”

Pressed to the point of breathlessness, Song Qingyou replied perfunctorily, “Stand up and let me see.”

Without hesitation, Fu Wenzhou rose, a faint smile playing on his lips as he stared at her with unwavering focus, as though nothing else in the world mattered. In that moment, his entire being was filled only with her.

Meeting his gaze, Song Qingyou felt as though she’d been burned, and quickly—if a little insincerely—said, “You look better,” before averting her eyes.

She outwardly appeared calm, but only she knew how fast and erratic her heart was beating.

Fu Wenzhou didn’t seem to care whether she was sincere or not. He smiled, half teasing, “It’s rare for you to compliment me. I didn’t spend hours getting ready for nothing.”

Song Qingyou found herself glancing at him again. No wonder he seemed different today—he really had gone to some effort.

She regarded his childish competitiveness with exasperation, like a peacock fanning its tail, clearly directing his display at Fu Tingshen on stage.

More and more people were starting to notice them. Song Qingyou tugged at his sleeve, urging him to sit. “Stop showing off. Sit down. Are you trying to upstage the groom?”

Fu Wenzhou crossed his long legs after sitting, exuding a lazy, leonine grace, the predator’s claws sheathed. “Let them look at whoever they please. But you—you can only look at me.”

Song Qingyou was speechless.

As the emcee called for the bride, music swelled and, as one, all eyes turned to the back of the hall...