A month passed under a strange and tense atmosphere.
Both the Ai and Gu households busied themselves with preparations for a wedding so rushed it bordered on absurdity. Yet the air between them was not festive—it was cold, silent, and full of unspoken truths. The Ai household treated the Gu family with polite detachment, masking displeasure beneath a veneer of superiority. The Gu family, in turn, treaded carefully, terrified that a single misstep might cost them everything.
Ai Mu threw herself into the role of "Lady Ai" with almost instinctive self-preservation. Only when immersed in administrative affairs could she forget the suffocating memory of that night in the warming chamber—the moment she was bound by the one she feared most. Her anger became an icy shell, beneath which lay betrayal and deep anxiety for the future. She knew: only power—real, tangible power—could preserve her autonomy in this forced marriage.
She no longer studied mere etiquette and protocol. Under Ai Xuan's guidance, she began handling discreet internal affairs of the estate. She reviewed land accounts, quietly reported anomalies to Ai Xuan rather than exposing them publicly. Her calm and sharp approach earned a flicker of approval from the otherwise disappointed matriarch. Even the officials began to reassess the young Lady caught in scandal.
She went further, requesting access to three years of correspondence between the Ministry of Works and the Ai estate—especially documents intersecting with Gu Liang's jurisdiction. She needed to know: was his identity a coincidence, or something more? Gu Liang was no longer just an obsessive suitor—he was a potential political threat.
The wedding day arrived.
The Ai estate was ablaze with lanterns and guests. Nobles and officials offered congratulations with practiced smiles and auspicious words, but their eyes betrayed curiosity and veiled amusement. The Lady's wedding should have been a union with a noble, accomplished man. Instead, she was marrying a disgraced official's son who had clawed his way into her life through questionable means.
Ai Mu wore a heavy crimson wedding robe embroidered with phoenixes, her face masked by thick powder. She followed the ceremonial steps—ancestral offerings, bridal procession, the bowing ritual.
When she held the red silk connecting her to Gu Liang, it felt like a cold, invisible shackle. On the other end, Gu Liang stood tall in his own vibrant wedding attire, face hidden beneath a red veil. Even through the veil, she could feel his gaze—intense, unwavering.
Ai Xuan and Consort Liu sat with composed expressions, but little joy. The Gu parents kept their heads bowed, humble and silent.
"Ceremony complete—escort to the bridal chamber!"
With the officiant's declaration, Ai Mu's last hope dissolved. She was led to the elaborately decorated room that felt more like a prison than a sanctuary.
Inside, red candles burned high. The room was festive, but the air was heavy.
Ai Mu dismissed all attendants, including the hesitant Qing Dai. Only she and Gu Liang remained.
She didn't lift his veil with the ceremonial jade scepter. Instead, she poured herself a cup of cold tea and drank it in one gulp, letting the chill clear her mind.
Turning her back to the marital bed, she stared at the flickering flames. Her voice was calm, but firm:
"There's no one else here. No need to keep pretending."
The figure on the bed shifted slightly.
Ai Mu continued, her tone like reading a decree: "Gu Liang, you schemed, sacrificed your reputation, all for this title. Now you have it."
She turned, her gaze sharp. "But understand—this title is all you have."
"From tonight on, we set three rules."
Gu Liang remained seated, veil hiding his face. Only his hands, folded on his lap, showed tension.
"First," she raised a finger, "in public, you are my Consort. I'll give you proper respect. But in private, we are strangers. Without my permission, you may not enter my study or chambers, nor inquire about my whereabouts."
"Second, stay in your role. The household is managed by my father and the stewards. You will not interfere, nor use my name to engage in politics or social dealings."
"Third," her voice chilled, "behave. If I find you overstepping again…"
She didn't finish, but the threat was clear. She stepped forward, sensing his breath shift beneath the veil.
"I'll show you what happens to a Consort who loses favor and angers his Lady."
Silence fell. Only the crackle of candles remained.
At last, a pale, elegant hand lifted the veil.
Gu Liang's face emerged—painted, flawless, lips red, skin like jade. He was breathtaking. But his eyes held no joy, only depthless shadows. A faint scar on his forehead caught the light—the mark she had left.
He rose, walked toward her, robe trailing silently.
Three steps away, he stopped and met her gaze.
"Finished?" he asked, voice soft but piercing.
Ai Mu frowned, unsettled by his calm.
"I agree," he said, cutting her off. His tone was crisp, the words bitten with restraint. A faint, unreadable smile touched his lips. "Your three rules—I'll remember them well."
His compliance felt like a trap. Ai Mu's wariness deepened.
"Good," she replied coldly, turning to leave.
"Wait," Gu Liang said.
She turned, impatient.
He walked to the table, poured wine into two jade cups, and offered one to her. His movements were graceful, his eyes unwavering.
"Wedding wine," he said. "Even if it's all for show, we should finish the ritual. Don't you think… my Lady?"
The last words were whispered, brushing against her nerves with possessive heat.
Ai Mu stared at the cup, then at him. Refusing would escalate things. She didn't want a fight tonight.
She took the cup, stiffly linked arms with him, and drank.
The wine burned her throat—and her heart.
Gu Liang watched her, satisfied, and drank his own.
She set the cup down and walked to the door.
"I'll sleep in the study tonight," she said, leaving the red and the man behind.
Inside, the candles still burned.
Gu Liang stood alone, his gentle mask fading into something darker—pain, obsession, resolve.
He touched the untouched bedding, then the scar on his forehead.
"You think distance will save you?" he murmured, lips curling into a bitter smile. "Ai Mu, since the moment we fell together, we were bound. I chose this path. Now… you have no choice."
"Time is on my side… my Lady."
He extinguished the flame, vanishing into the shadows of their wedding night.
The game had shifted—from open confrontation to silent war. And he had all the patience in the world to draw her into his web.