Chapter 2: My Name is Feng Lu

Translator: Atlas Studios  Editor: Atlas Studios

On the surface, Tang Qiu was calm, but her palms were sticky with sweat. She had never been this close to a man before, and now she would have to be the one to lean in, to press her lips to his; someone who was essentially a stranger…

Best get it over with quickly.

Summoning her will, Tang Qiu shut her eyes and planted a kiss on his thin lips, before pulling his mask back in place and getting to her feet.

Jiang Shaocheng was startled by her brisk, businesslike actions. His gaze narrowed, simmering with unreadable depths. Had this woman really just kissed him so boldly?

As Tang Qiu rose, her veil swept off his head, but her scent, faint though it was, lingered. He let his eyes slide down. On the inside, however, he was filled with a new, burning certainty.

This woman was not Feng Lu.

Jiang Shaocheng was in poor health, and no activities followed the wedding ceremony. His butler, Uncle Wang, helped push his wheelchair to bring him home to his mansion.

Tang Qiu and Jiang Shaocheng sat together in the backseat of his car. The sun streamed through the windows, illuminating the side of Jiang Shaocheng’s face. His eyelashes were long and thick, and the slope of his nose was high and straight. The burns had ruined half his features, but from where they now sat shrouded in the shadows, the unmarked half of his face was flawless–a work of perfection, gilded by the sun’s rays.

It was as though he were half an angel, and half a demon.

Without warning, her husband turned his head to her. Tang Qiu didn’t have time to avert her gaze. Their eyes met, and she felt a twinge of embarrassment at having been caught staring.

Jiang Shaocheng reached out a hand and grazed the spotless white fabric of her veil. “Aren’t you going to take this off?” he reminded her, chuckling.

There had been rumors that Jiang Shaocheng’s wounds had made him irritable, with an erratic temper. It seemed they weren’t true after all.

Tilting her head towards him, Tang Qiu asked tentatively, “Will you help me?”

She had only been half-expecting him to agree, but, with a hint of playfulness, he brushed the veil back from her face, then lingered to tuck her slightly ruffled locks of hair behind her ear. Despite the cold sensation of his touch, Tang Qiu noted how gentle his actions were. His temper is much better than I imagined, she mused. Maybe being his wife won’t be so bad after all. 

“What’s your name?” he asked unexpectedly.

“Me?” Tang Qiu laughed, trying to cover up her surprise. “I’m Feng Lu, you know that.”

Jiang Shaocheng fixed her with a piercing, intent look, like a physical weight in her chest was pinning her to her seat. But in the next instant, there was only gentleness in his eyes, and she wondered if that fleeting sense of suffocation had been her imagination.

With a shake of her head, Tang Qiu took his hand in hers. “Alright. Allow me to properly introduce myself, then. My name is Tang Qiu, your new lawfully wedded wife.”

“Tang? You’re not from the Feng family?”

Tang Qiu shook her head again. “It doesn’t matter who I am. All you need to know is that Feng Lu didn’t want to marry you. But I do.”

Jiang Shaocheng nodded, then leaned back in his seat. His brows furrowed, as if from weariness.

Tang Qiu stared at him in silent disbelief. That was it? Wasn’t he acting… a little too calm?

She eyed Jiang Shaocheng for a while longer, but his exhaustion must have been contagious; after a while, she felt her eyelids drooping. She decided to follow suit, allowing herself to drift to sleep in the backseat of the car.

…

After they had alighted from the car and he was pushing Jiang Shaocheng to his chambers, Uncle Wang asked, “Young Master, do you want me to send this woman back home? As a warning to the Fengs?”

The Feng family had truly gone too far, picking some woman off the streets to play the role of the bride during the wedding today. How could they let such disrespect for Young Master Jiang slide?

Jiang Shaocheng’s eyes were gentle, without a hint of anger, and his voice held no weight to it; he appeared extremely frail. “Never mind that. Sometimes, mistakes are not necessarily bad things.”

Uncle Wang protested, “But you’re…”

Jiang Shaocheng lifted a hand, and Uncle Wang fell silent. Tang Qiu was right. It didn’t matter which family his wife came from–only that she had married him out of her free will. “Let me see the marriage contract.” After confirming that Tang Qiu had indeed signed the contract, Jiang Shaocheng returned it to Uncle Wang. “Take this and prepare the marriage certificate.”

Uncle Wang was shocked. “Young Master, we don’t even know who this woman is or where she came from. Do you really want her for a wife?” The marriage certificate was much more than just a piece of paper. If this woman harbored any secret schemes, she could walk away with half the young master’s fortune anytime she wished–hundreds of millions of dollars, at that!

Uncle Wang was about to insist that his young master rethink his decision when there was a knock on the door. Warily, he opened the door, only to find Tang Qiu standing there. The young woman’s gown was too loose for her shape, but her features were delicate, fine, pretty, and behind her rosebud lips, her teeth were pearly white.

So this was why his young master was refusing to send back his bride?

The little temptress. Uncle Wang was unable to prevent a flash of disdain across his face. “The young master needs to rest. You…”