Morning light drifted through the gauzy curtains, filling the bridal room with a quiet, golden radiance that seemed to hold its breath in gentle anticipation. In a space that was meant to echo with laughter, footsteps, and the joyful bustle of preparation, there was only the bride, alone, surrounded by stillness and the soft rustle of fabric.
Qi Jianyi stood before the mirror, her reflection framed in silver, her gaze steady yet distant. She stared at herself in silence, hardly believing that she was truly the woman in the wedding gown. The reality felt fragile, as though one blink might shatter it.
