Chapter 16

I asked again about that last half hour.

She said the hall would be cleared before noon. From twelve to twelve thirty, it would be mine alone.

“Thank you.”

After hanging up, I messaged the group containing both families. Today’s wedding was canceled permanently. There would be no new date. I would deal with everything that remained.

Before sending, I stared at the screen for a long time.

Once this went out, I could no longer comfort myself by saying we were only having a small argument.

Four years together. It was time to put an end to them.

I wouldn’t have to wait for him to calm down. Wouldn’t have to guess which words he meant and which were only threats. Wouldn’t have to tell myself every day to endure a little longer, until marriage made it better.

I pressed send.

Then laid the phone on the table.

The screen lit up almost at once.

Xue Shiye was calling.

I didn’t answer.

He called again. Still, I let it ring.

A message appeared.

*“Shen Wangshu, what is this supposed to mean?”*

I looked at it for a long time, then sent a brief reply.

*“There’s no new date.”*

The typing indicator appeared. After a while, it vanished.

No message came.

I stood and went to the window.

From here, I could see the tall elm outside the hall. September sunlight was bright and warm. Shadows of leaves swayed across the sill.

I remembered what Cheng’an had said about the wedding budget.

A wedding lasted one day. Afterward, there would be so many more days together.

Back then, I had been busy choosing beautiful decorations and accusing him of lacking romance.

Only now did I truly understand.

Who would share the long, ordinary days of my life mattered far more than how many flowers filled my wedding.

Had Cheng’an lived, we might have argued, grown tired, struggled with money and the endless details of daily life.

But at least, when I said I was sad, he would never have rushed to call me too sensitive.

And Xue Shiye?

I closed my eyes.

I saw him through the last eight months: growing impatience, the constant threat of “Then don’t marry me,” and today, his certainty that I would beg him to take me.

Leaving aside September seventeenth, Elm Hall, and everything I had poured into the wedding, I finally dared ask myself plainly:

*Do you still want to marry the man Xue Shiye is now?*

No.

However kind he had once been. However deeply I had once loved him.

The waiting-room door flew open.

He stood there, apparently having hurried over, his tie loosened.

Seeing me still in my wedding gown, he seemed to relax.

“Wangshu.”

His voice was much gentler.

“I saw your message.”

I said nothing.

He entered and stopped two steps away.

“I was upset earlier. Don’t start thinking the worst.”