The sound of celebration seeped through the heavy wooden doors like an unwanted guest.
Outside the bridal chamber, laughter rose and fell in waves. Firecrackers crackled in the distance, sharp and festive, while a traditional wedding melody played on repeat, its joy mechanical and hollow. Servants hurried back and forth, their footsteps light, their voices hushed with excitement.
Inside the room, however, silence reigned.
Stephanie Gu sat on the edge of the bed, her spine straight beneath layers of embroidered red silk. The phoenix and peony stitched into her wedding dress shimmered under the lantern light, each thread painstakingly woven to symbolize harmony, prosperity, and everlasting love.
Love.
Her fingers curled slowly against the fabric.
In her previous life, she had worn this same dress with a heart full of foolish anticipation. She had believed that stepping out of this room would mark the beginning of her happiness, that the man waiting outside would become her shelter, her partner, her future.
What awaited her instead had been a slow, deliberate descent into isolation, manipulation, humiliation and death.
Stephanie exhaled quietly.
Her chest did not ache. Her heart did not race.
There was only a calm so cold it bordered on indifference.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
"Steph?" a familiar voice called, warm and coaxing. "The ceremony is about to begin. Are you ready?"
Gu Yichen.
Even hearing his voice made something dark stir beneath her composure.
Stephanie did not answer.
The door creaked open, and Gu Yichen stepped inside, dressed in a groom's red robe, his expression gentle, affectionate, and perfectly practiced.
The man before her looked exactly as he had three years ago -- handsome, refined, and convincing enough to fool everyone, including the woman who had once given him her entire life.
He smiled when he saw her sitting there, veil still untouched.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly, walking closer. "Nervous?"
Stephanie lifted her eyes.
For a split second, Gu Yichen felt an inexplicable chill crawl up his spine.
Her gaze was calm—too calm. There was no shyness, no excitement, none of the warmth he remembered. It was as if she were looking at a stranger, or worse, at something insignificant, a leach which should be trampled under her feet.
"I need a moment," she said.
Her voice was steady, neither cold nor warm.
Gu Yichen frowned slightly. "The guests are waiting. Don't be childish. Today is the day we both waited for. Our special day. Our wedding."
Special?
She almost laughed.
Instead, she stood.
The long sleeves of her wedding dress slid down her wrists as she rose, her movements unhurried and precise. Without waiting for his response, she reached up and removed the phoenix crown from her head, placing it carefully on the vanity beside her.
Gu Yichen's smile faded. "Steph, what are you doing?"
She turned to face him fully then, her expression composed, unreadable.
"I'm leaving."
The words landed softly. Yet they struck like thunder.
Gu Yichen stared at her, disbelief flashing across his face. Was this the same girl who was singing "I love you" till an hour ago?
"Leaving? What nonsense are you talking about? The ceremony is about to start!"
Stephanie did not argue. She did not explain. She simply walked past him.
"Stephanie!" He grabbed her wrist instinctively, his grip tightening. "Are you upset about something? This is not the time to be stubborn. You know I love you, right?"
She stopped.
Slowly, deliberately, she looked down at his hand around her wrist. Her expression darkened.
Then she looked back up at him.
Gu Yichen felt his throat go dry. She looked like a demon crawled out of hell. He didn't know what happened in an hour that she was behaving like this.
"Let go," she said quietly.
There was no anger in her tone. No hysteria. Just a calm finality that made his fingers loosen against his will.
Stephanie pulled free and walked toward the door.
Gu Yichen hurried after her, panic creeping into his voice. "Do you know what you're doing? If you walk out now, you'll embarrass both our families. The media is here. Think about your reputation. Do you want everyone to laugh at you?"
She paused at the threshold.
Without turning around, she spoke, her voice low and even. "If they want to laugh, let them."
Then she opened the door and stepped out.
The corridor outside was lined with red silk and lanterns, the air thick with incense and anticipation. Servants froze mid-step when they saw the bride emerge alone, veil missing, expression serene.
Whispers rippled instantly.
"Why is the bride out already?"
"Where's the groom?"
"Did something happen?"
Stephanie walked straight through them, her embroidered hem brushing against the floor, her back straight, her pace unhurried. No one dared to stop her. Something in her presence—cool, resolute, distant—made instinct override curiosity.
At the entrance hall, her mother rushed forward, face pale. "Stephanie! What are you doing? Get back inside right now!"
Stephanie stopped at last.
She looked at the woman who had once scolded her for not being patient enough, obedient enough, useful enough.
"I'm not getting married today," Stephanie said.
Her mother's eyes widened. "What nonsense -"
"I've already decided," she continued, her tone unyielding. "This wedding is over."
Before anyone could respond, she lifted the hem of her dress and walked out of the wedding venue.
The sunlight outside was blinding.
For a moment, she stood there, letting the warmth wash over her skin, grounding her in the reality of this second chance.
Three years.
She did not waste a single second hesitating.
A car screeched to a halt nearby as her assistant, who had been waiting on standby, stared at her in shock. "Miss? The ceremony -"
"Hospital," Stephanie said, opening the car door. "Now."
The assistant swallowed hard, nodding instinctively. "Which one?"
"The First Military Hospital," Stephanie replied, her gaze fixed ahead. "VIP ward."
As the car sped away from the wedding venue, the sounds of celebration faded into nothingness.
Taking a deep breathe, Stephanie took out her phone made few calls before leaning back against the seat, her fingers slowly tightening in her lap.
Gu Jianlin.
She was coming.
This time, she would not arrive too late.