Wei Ziqian was utterly devastated.
The closest he had ever come to feeling this way was the day he rebelliously insisted on wearing ripped jeans out, only to realize Wei Second Sister-in-law had cut two gaping holes right over his butt.
But this time, the devastation was even worse.
Especially when Wei Ziqian called Wei Hanyan for confirmation, only to be met with sky-piercing laughter—"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"—after which he realized he was the only one kept in the dark.
No wonder Zhong Ziyan looked so awkward every time he raved about Zhong Hui!
In his distress, Wei Ziqian sent Zhong Ziyan a string of question marks and exclamation points, only to realize afterward that he hadn’t even changed his fanboy username.
He was even more mortified.
[Stop Pressuring Me, I’m Busy Spending Money: …Take it back. I’ll pretend I didn’t see it.]
So. Cial. Death.
Wei Ziqian let out a wail, crouched on the ground with his head in his hands, wishing he could smash a time machine out of the floor to save himself.
If only he could go back to the day Zhong Ziyan first visited the Wei family—
Or even just five minutes ago, to stop himself from messaging Zhong Ziyan under the name "Zhong Hui Is the God of Music"!!
Song Xi looked down at Wei Ziqian sympathetically. "So, you scowled at Zhong Hui, nitpicked her every chance you got, even confronted her directly multiple times, rejected her goodwill, and your relationship was practically hostile—only to now realize she’s your so-called 'God of Music'?"
Second Miss: "Uh, you don’t have to phrase it so…" bluntly cruel!
Wei Ziqian clutched his head, muttering, "I’m such an idiot. No wonder Li Ye was so chummy with a shareholder and gave me those tickets. And that mocking look he gave me during the musical… Everyone knew but me. Damn it all!"
"Maybe… switch deities?" Second Miss suggested.
"Faith isn’t something you just swap out!" Wei Ziqian snapped, glaring up at her.
"Then strip," Song Xi said casually, nibbling on a slice of Black Forest cake. "Grab some branches from the wedding venue and tie them to your back. They’ll match your pants perfectly."
Second Miss connected the dots and immediately: "…" A real-life "bearing thorns to apologize"?
The worst part was Wei Ziqian actually considered it seriously. "Would that work? I won’t get kicked out as a pervert?"
"I think!" Second Miss hurriedly interjected, "a sincere verbal apology would be better. Miss Zhong has a gentle temper—she won’t hold a grudge."
Wei Ziqian gave her a pitiful look. "That’s easy for you to say. She’s not your God of Music."
"…But both gods and humans accept apologies."
After a long silence, Wei Ziqian stood up. "Fine. After the wedding, I’ll apologize properly."
"Excuse me," a soft voice cut in, "I think I heard you mention Miss Zhong. Were you also invited by her?"
Second Miss’s feminine intuition tingled at the sugary tone. She looked up and, sure enough, saw a girl with the classic "pitiful green tea" look.
"I’m Shen Beibei," the newcomer introduced herself with a demure smile. "Miss Zhong invested in my fashion design studio. I was her first investment—surely she’s mentioned me to you?"
Second Miss: "…Well…"
Song Xi: "Nope."
Wei Ziqian: "Never heard of you."
Shen Beibei was crushed. "Really? Not even once? Not even the story of our serendipitous meeting?"
"I’ve heard of one person she invested in—some guy who spends hundreds of millions a year on rare materials for experiments. That’s not you, right?" Wei Ziqian deadpanned.
Shen Beibei gritted her teeth. "That would be Sheng Jiayan, the data-obsessed lab rat next door… I fought tooth and nail to snag the only invitation from those nerds. Worth it."
Second Miss: "…" Confirmed—a mutated green tea, likely another rabid fan like Wei Ziqian. Best keep a distance.
"Hello, Miss Shen," another voice joined in hesitantly. "I wanted to ask… is Sheng Jiayan not here? Oh—I’m Fu Mingyao. I came with my aunt’s family. I, um… had some misunderstandings with Miss Zhong in the past, but now I really admire her music!"
From a distance, Zhong Ziyan—who had returned to scout the situation and grab more food—froze at the sight of the familiar faces gathered around the buffet. She took two silent steps back and swiftly evacuated the banquet hall.
How did all these people end up in the same place?!
Forget eating. Starvation was preferable.
To avoid trouble, an elf could even skip meals!
……
In the dead of night, Zhong Ziyan sat up in bed inside her floating cabin.
A man needs his meals like steel needs tempering—skip one, and hunger strikes.
At 3 a.m., Cloudreign Island was nearly silent. With the wedding tomorrow, even the wildest partiers had turned in.
After scouting the area, Zhong Ziyan leaped from the second floor onto the beach, pondering where to scavenge food.
Assuming the chefs were asleep, she wistfully eyed the rows of coconut trees lining the shore, then glanced at the distant sea.
Maybe a dive for sea urchins…?
As she wandered the beach, contemplating her midnight snack options, she spotted a faint light in the distance. Her psychic senses reached out instinctively—it was Wei Hanyun’s room.
Wei Hanyun, draped in a robe, looked wide awake despite the late hour, leaning against his desk while on a call. His expression was anything but drowsy—more like a workaholic mid-overtime.
Zhong Ziyan knocked a coconut loose and texted him: [Hungry?]
The light in his room flicked off the moment she hit send.
Zhong Ziyan: "…"
Five seconds later, it turned back on.
Wei Hanyun’s reply came swiftly: [You are.]
……
Hours before their wedding, the two successfully evaded security to rendezvous.
Zhong Ziyan handed Wei Hanyun the cracked coconut. "Freshly scavenged."
He didn’t take it, just bent to sip. "We could’ve called room service."
"The night-shift chef was dozing off with dark circles when I passed the kitchen," Zhong Ziyan admitted, producing a basket of dinner rolls. "I helped myself."
Wei Hanyun chuckled, thanking her as he took a roll (its color indiscernible in the dark). He gestured to a nearby bench. "Let’s sit."
After a few steps, noting her juggling act, he took the heavier coconut from her.
Zhong Ziyan promptly stuffed a red bean bun into her mouth.
"Did you skip dinner because of prior engagements," Wei Hanyun asked, "or was the food not to your liking?"
"It was delicious, but..." Zhong Ziyan recounted the incident involving Wei Ziqian to Wei Hanyun and asked hesitantly, "Should I not have replied to him?"
"There’s no issue. You handled it perfectly," Wei Hanyun assured her firmly. "He’s young and impulsive, unaware of his limits. A stumble will teach him a lesson. Don’t worry—he knows his boundaries."
"Oh." Since Wei Hanyun was the one responsible for his younger relative, his word was enough to ease her mind.
Zhong Ziyan relaxed and settled onto the comfortable bench, placing the basket of bread rolls between them. "Help yourself. I’ll share half with you."
Wei Hanyun wasn’t particularly hungry. He ate his portion leisurely before casually asking, "The wedding’s coming up. Aren’t you nervous?"
"Not..." Zhong Ziyan began, then paused, remembering the call Wei Hanyun had just taken.
Hua Shuangshuang had mentioned before bed that Second Miss might livestream the wedding online tomorrow.
Such a high-profile move was unlike Wei Hanyun’s usual discretion.
In fact, holding a wedding at all for what was originally a fake marriage—complete with multiple NDAs—was already out of character for him.
Since he had gone to such lengths and even planned to publicize it through Second Miss, Zhong Ziyan assumed there had to be a deeper purpose behind it.
But she had no intention of unraveling the complexities of corporate battles or family inheritance disputes. She patted Wei Hanyun’s shoulder reassuringly. "Don’t stress. I’ve got your back."
The simplest equation was clear to her:
Wei Hanyun going bankrupt = her own financial ruin in the coming months.
Hands off the boss—come at me instead!
Wei Hanyun was deeply moved. "As thanks, you can have the rest of these bread rolls."
Zhong Ziyan didn’t hold back and polished them off entirely.
The two soon-to-be newlyweds shared a basket of complimentary bread rolls they’d snagged from the kitchen, sitting on a moonlit beachside bench. After quietly returning the basket, they bid each other goodnight and retreated to their respective rooms.
Before parting, Zhong Ziyan discreetly cast a luck-boosting spell on Wei Hanyun that would last the entire day.
Wei Hanyun: "...Did I just see some kind of light?"
Zhong Ziyan: "It was a firefly."
"..."
Zhong Ziyan slipped back into her cottage without disturbing anyone, but shortly after falling asleep, she was abruptly awakened by urgent knocking.
Wei Hanyan pounded on the door frantically. "Auntie, get up! We’re running out of time!"
Zhong Ziyan bolted upright and grabbed the alarm clock from her nightstand. The time read: 5:10 AM.
The wedding wasn’t set to begin until noon.
Yet Wei Hanyan’s door-pounding urgency made it seem like it was already 11:30.
Zhong Ziyan silently set the clock down and lay back in bed.
Professionalism could… wait another twenty minutes.
