Guo Min suddenly smirked, confidence sparking in her eyes. "Mom, if you and Grandpa want children, you'd let me rest." She slumped deeper into the chair like a queen dropping her trump card, certain she had won.
Li Yan paused, blinking once before laughter bubbled out. "Min, a beginner can't check a grandmaster," she said smoothly, eyes gleaming with the kind of experience that came from years of running the Zhu household. "How do you think I kept three men in check?"
The men in question, husband, son, and father-in-law, looked at varying degrees of betrayed and sheepish.
Li Yan wasn't done. She tilted her chin, her smile sharp. "And about children… we'll cross that bridge when the time comes. No shortcuts."
Game over.
Before Guo Min could even groan, Li Yan clapped her hands, and the maids swooped in. She was whisked away to the garden, attendants carrying steaming basins of water, scented oils, and trays of mysterious tools.
Speechless, helpless, defeated.
Hours later, Guo Min finally emerged, skin glowing, hair shining, her body polished to near perfection. She looked like porcelain… porcelain that had been scrubbed within an inch of its life. Her arms hung limp at her sides, her steps dragging.
She was squeaky clean, softer than a baby, and utterly drained.
And this family, this family!, expected her to wake up early tomorrow for wedding preparations?
By dinner, Guo Min was a woman with a mission, the food. She sat at the table with laser focus, chopsticks moving with the precision of a soldier on the battlefield. Unlike other delicate girls who nibbled daintily, Guo Min ate with unrestrained freedom once she was comfortable.
Grandpa Zhu chuckled, eyes twinkling. "Zihan, your wife eats a lot, even more than you."
"She's a lady," Zihan replied without hesitation, his voice even. "A lot goes on in her body, so why not?"
The old man blinked, then huffed. "I didn't mean it in a bad way. Tch. Unfilial child." He pouted like a child himself, muttering into his wine.
Guo Min, however, didn't spare a single glance at the family banter. Her full attention was on her plate. Every time Zihan's chopsticks dared to wander toward her bowl, she swatted them away with deadly precision.
"…When I was being scrubbed like laundry with a sponge, where were you?" she hissed between bites, glaring at him. "Tch. Don't try to get chummy with me now."
Zihan froze mid-motion, chopsticks still in the air. His jaw dropped, utterly blindsided by her attitude. "…Are you holding a grudge?"
Her eyes narrowed. "…So what if I am? In fact..." she dropped her chopsticks with dramatic flair. "you're not sleeping in the same bed with me tonight." The entire table went silent.
Zihan's voice turned cold, almost businesslike. "…But that's my room."
"I don't care!" she snapped. Rising with the authority of an empress, she stormed off, grabbed the nearest pillow, and hurled it at his chest before slamming the door shut. The lock clicked.
Zihan stood there, pillow in hand, his expression caught between disbelief and reluctant amusement. For the first time in his life, the mighty President Zhu had been evicted.
Across the table, Grandpa Zhu and Zhu Zixuan were visibly struggling to keep straight faces. Their boy, always proud, always icy, was now utterly helpless at the hands of one petite woman.
"I remember the first time your mother threw me out too," Zixuan said, voice calm but tinged with a mocking lilt, as though savoring the memory just to needle him.
Grandpa Zhu snorted, unable to resist. "Yours took a while, but this child? Barely married and already thrown out. Too fast!" His sneer was pure mischief, the laughter bubbling just beneath.
Zihan's gaze slid to them, cold and sharp enough to silence anyone else, but these were his father and grandfather. He couldn't say a word. Instead, he gave them a withering glare, turned on his heel, and stomped off toward his study, every line of his back stiff with irritation.
Li Yan, far more amused than concerned, only shook her head as her son disappeared upstairs. "I'll bring you iced tea later, Zihan," she called sweetly, lips twitching with laughter. "Don't mind your grandad and father, they've been waiting years for this moment."
The men chuckled openly now, triumphant, while upstairs the cold-hearted President Zhu shut his study door with a little more force than necessary.
The next morning, finally, the wedding day.
The Zhu mansion buzzed like a hive. Servants rushed through corridors with bouquets and trays, cars lined the driveway, and the living room glimmered with ivory silk and golden lanterns. Outside, sleek black cars came and went, ferrying relatives and gifts to the wedding hall.
Unlike the exhausting days before, today Guo Min wasn't dragged out of bed. She woke naturally, refreshed, her heart hammering in quiet anticipation, yeah she'd be the star of the day.
Her dress was exquisite, a long embroidered gown in a delicate shade of ivory, shimmering under the morning light. Golden thread wove intricate peony patterns across the bodice, symbolizing wealth, while silver lotus blooms cascaded down the flowing skirt. The veil was sheer, dusted with tiny crystals that caught light like fallen stars, and her waist was cinched by a satin sash embroidered with Zhu family insignia. She looked like she had stepped out of a painting, glass skin radiant, hair swept into a polished bun with pearl pins gleaming.
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she descended. With Li Yan's approving smile, she entered the waiting car, nerves hidden beneath her calm poise. Together, they rode to the wedding hall.
The venue itself was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above a sea of flowers, ivory and blush pink, while the aisle stretched endlessly, glowing under soft lights. Rows upon rows of seats brimmed with familiar and powerful faces, the Wangs, the Yangs, the Wus, and more. Everyone had come to witness it, the day President Zhu, cold and untouchable, finally settled down.
"My little bride!" Ruoxi squealed the moment she spotted her, barreling forward in unrestrained joy. She hugged her tightly, nearly knocking her veil askew. "Today marks the beginning of young Mrs. Zhu. You're no longer a miss."
"Tch, thank you." Guo Min laughed, pinching her best friend's cheeks before turning to greet the Wangs.
"Remember," Yun Ai said warmly, cupping her face before planting a kiss on her temple, "you are our daughter, Min. If you are treated in any bad way, come to me."
Her voice, motherly and firm, pierced through the chaos of the hall, and Guo Min's heart swelled.
Mingze said nothing at first, only studying her silently. Then a rare smile softened his face. "Dad will walk you down the aisle, dear."
The words struck her deeper than she expected. Her real father was alive but worthless, absent even in the most important moments of her life. But heaven had compensated her with Wang Mingze, the man who took her in when her mother died, who made sure she finished her studies, who gave her a home and a name to be proud of. Her lips lifted faintly as she whispered, "Thanks, Dad."
Outside, sleek black cars rolled in one after another, the parking lot filling with the finest automobiles the city had to offer. Guests murmured in anticipation, all eyes tilting toward the entrance.
The groom had arrived.
Zhu Zihan entered with his usual chill aura, carrying himself like the man who could bend empires with a single decision. His suit was black, his favored color, but today it was tailored with sharp white accents that drew attention to the breadth of his shoulders and the lean strength of his frame. The cut was precise, perfect, like him. Around him, security moved silently, a shadowed barrier that reminded everyone of the power he carried.
He walked straight to the podium without hesitation, not sparing the curious stares a single glance. His presence alone stilled the hall, and the murmur of voices died down. The ceremony had begun.
Then, the music started. A soft melody filled the hall, and every head turned.
Guo Min appeared at the far end of the aisle, her arm tucked carefully into Wang Mingze's. Gasps and whispers echoed, admiration spilling freely. Her gown shimmered under the lights, every step a picture of grace and quiet strength. And Zihan's gaze locked on her immediately.
Wang Mingze walked her forward with dignity, his presence both protective and proud. For Guo Min, each step felt heavy, yet the warmth of her adoptive father's hand steadied her.
And finally, they reached the altar.