The abandoned daughter of the Lu family turns around and marries a celibate tycoon.

Lu Xiran stood frozen at the doorway, her phone slipping from her fingers and crashing onto the clean floor with a sharp "smack".

Gu Yanshen suddenly turned around.

The light slanted across his profile, outlining his taut jawline and suddenly deep, intense eyes. The instant he saw her, a complex mix of emotions surged within him—surprise, a barely perceptible hint of panic, quickly fading into a darker gloom. He almost immediately pushed Ling Xue away from his arms, his movements swift and decisive.

"Xi Ran".

He strode over, his tall figure instantly looming over her. Without explanation or preamble, he first bent down to pick up the phone from the ground, then decisively slipped his arm under her knees and swept her up in his arms without a word.

"Gu Yanshen!" Lu Xiran exclaimed in shock, her body suddenly suspended in mid-air, her hands instinctively pressing against his firm chest.

"Don't move." His voice was low, his hot breath brushing against her ear. "Your feet can't walk anymore."

He turned around with her in his arms, and as he passed Ling Xue, who was standing frozen to the side, he walked straight to the large sofa in the center of the living room without pausing or hesitating.

Ling Xue stood there, her eyes still red, with glistening tears hanging precariously on her long eyelashes. She looked at Lu Xiran, who had been carefully placed on the sofa by Gu Yanshen, her eyes showing no trace of panic at being caught, but rather a very faint mist of pity.

Gu Yanshen gently put Lu Xiran down, knelt on one knee in front of her, and reached out to touch her swollen ankle. "Does your foot still hurt?" he asked softly, his tone unusually gentle, as if the two of them had been alone in the room the whole time.

"Ranran," Ling Xue followed, her voice trembling with a perfectly timed sob, "Don't misunderstand, Yan Shen and I..."

Lu Xiran opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked, and she couldn't make a sound. Her gaze was fixed on Ling Xue's face, passing over Gu Yanshen's broad shoulders, and clashed fiercely with that seemingly weak but secretly sharp gaze in mid-air.

—You're just a substitute.

—The person in question was at the wedding.

—Three people, what a show!

Lu Xueyan's vicious yet exhilarating voice shrieked in my mind once more.

Gu Yanshen noticed her unusual behavior, turned around following her gaze, his brows furrowed impatiently, and that gentleness vanished in an instant, leaving only a cold and stern shadow.

"Yan Shen..." Ling Xue called out again, her voice softer and more aggrieved. Her fingertips unconsciously clenched the hem of her clothes, looking hesitant and pitiful.

"Zhihe," Gu Yanshen said, his voice cold and clear, carrying a distinct displeasure and a sense of dismissal, "You go back first."

Gardenia.

Song Zhihe.

Ling Xue is Song Zhihe!

This realization was like a red-hot branding iron, burning deeply into Lu Xiran's heart.

The bridesmaid she personally invited... turned out to be Gu Yan's long-hidden ex-girlfriend, the "real deal" Lu Xueyan was talking about!

No wonder, no wonder Lu Xueyan looked at her with such naked mockery, as if watching a clown who was directing and acting without even realizing it. No wonder the elders of the Gu family looked at her today with an indescribable complexity and a hint of veiled ridicule.

It turns out that from beginning to end,

—She's the only fool.

"But—" Ling Xue bit her lower lip, her eyes darting around as if she had a thousand words to say, but in the end, it turned into a barely audible sigh. Her gaze drifted towards Lu Xiran, and a fleeting, triumphant smile crossed her lips.

"Go back." Gu Yanshen repeated, his tone becoming more forceful and leaving no room for argument.

Ling Xue lowered her head as if helpless and obedient, and when she looked up again, she had that pitiful and charming look again. She glanced at Lu Xiran, and in the depths of her eyes, there was not a trace of pity, but clearly a condescending, victorious scrutiny.

Then she turned around and walked away slowly, her back view exuding a deliberate elegance and fragility.

The door was gently closed.

Gu Yanshen lowered his head again, focusing intently on Lu Xiran's ankle. His fingers were long and slender with distinct knuckles, and at this moment, he gently supported her injury, carefully removing the high heel that had tormented her for so long. The moment his warm fingertips touched her swollen skin, Lu Xiran couldn't help but tremble slightly.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked softly, his eyes still lowered, his thick eyelashes concealing all the emotions in his eyes.

Lu Xiran looked at his profile, which was so close to hers. His features were perfect and flawless, but the image of him embracing Ling Xue and the way Ling Xue leaned against him just now was like a ghost that she couldn't shake off.

"Gu Yanshen," she finally found her voice, dry and hoarse beyond belief, "Ling Xue... is Song Zhihe, right?"

His movements as he massaged her ankle paused almost imperceptibly for a moment.

There was no reply; the pressure from the fingertips was simply reduced.

Silence spread like ice water.

"So, that night you said you had something urgent to deal with, but you were actually going to pick her up, right?" Lu Xiran continued to ask, each word seemingly squeezed out from between her teeth.

Gu Yanshen continued his movements, silently and almost stubbornly rubbing her sprained area, as if he could dispel the stagnant air and erase all her problems.

The pent-up grievances, fear, and anger at being deceived that had been building up all day finally burst forth at this moment.

Lu Xiran abruptly pulled her foot away from his grasp, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably. "Gu Yanshen! Today, all of you... did you all look at me like I was a fool? Watching this clueless substitute gleefully put on this ridiculous show?!"

Gu Yanshen finally raised his head.

He gazed at her tear-streaked face, his dark eyes churning as if suppressing a raging storm. Suddenly, he reached out and, with undeniable force, gripped the back of her neck, pulling her sharply towards him.

Their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling instantly, his warm breath brushing against her damp cheeks.

"Lu Xiran," he whispered her full name, his voice deep and husky, each word seemingly ground from the depths of his chest, carrying a scorching heat and an almost clumsy assertiveness, "Today, the person I marry is you. The person standing beside me, receiving everyone's blessings, is you. Tonight—"

He paused, then forcefully, almost roughly, wiped the tear tracks off her cheek with his thumb, leaving a burning sensation.

"The person sleeping in this bed could be you."

—It can only be you.

The moment he finished speaking, his kiss pressed down heavily on her.

This was no longer the symbolic, polite kiss at the wedding. This kiss was aggressive, possessive, and almost panic-inducing, as if it wanted to forcefully imprint what he couldn't express in words onto her through the intertwining of their lips and teeth, swallowing up all her unease and questions.

Lu Xiran was almost suffocated by his kiss. His powerful aura enveloped her, carrying the familiar, cold scent of cedar, but also seemingly... mixed with a very faint, sweet floral fragrance that didn't belong to her.

—It's the scent left by Ling Xue.