The rural village of Noman was usually one of peace and quiet. The males worked the fields from early morning to late evening, while the females cooked, raised vegetables, and looked after the house.

However, today, in this normally quiet village, a procession of men garbed in red and silver marched down the dirt road, ignoring the slack-jawed countrymen gaping at the palanquin draped in silver-silk they carried on their shoulders.

"The Kaalim Family must really love this daughter-in-law. They even arranged a palanquin for her to be brought into the family!"

"Of course, after all, Mahanoor is the most beautiful woman in the entire village. Daylan Kaalim is a lucky man to get such a beautiful wife."

"But isn't Mahanoor an orphan? How could the Junaid family bear to spend their hard-earned money on a servant?"

"Servant? Brother, haven't you heard of the rumors spreading in the village?"

"Rumors? What rumors?"

"Heh. You really haven't heard it. Sigh, it can't be helped. You're a simple man who doesn't care about anything other than making money. Well, the rumor spreading around is that Mahanoor isn't the servant, but the bastard daughter of Junaid Khan."

"No way! Junaid Khan actually had the guts to cheat on Silvia Oseem?"

"Apparently. That's why he didn't make a squeak when his daughter was treated like a servant in his own home. Fortunately, Mahanoor is a lucky girl. The Junaid family never recognized her, but the Kaalim family are marrying her to their precious son in such a high-profile manner."

The people craned their necks to see the beauty inside the palanquin, but caught only a tantalizing glimpse through the swaying curtains. Blood-red lotus lips, porcelain skin, cherry blossoms in shining black hair, and a crimson robe more expensive than anything they had ever worn.

"Sigh. Her blood relations abandoned her, but her marital relations are so welcoming. She truly is lucky."

Seated in the sedan with nervous sweat coating her forehead, Mahanoor's heart pounded in her ears when she heard the crowd's envious sighs.

She was truly lucky to receive Daylan Kaalim's love.

As a girl of mixed race, her Caucasian step-family treated her like the plague. Since the death of her mother 10 years ago, she had lived with the identity of a servant in her father's home.

Cooking, cleaning, washing...there wasn't any household chore that she hadn't performed. And though she didn't complain, she had always longed for the warmth of a family.

The Junaid family had never been a family to her.

But after 10 years of loneliness, she would finally feel the loving warmth she had been longing for. The Kaalim resident would be her home, and her husband, her safe haven.

From now on, she wouldn't live with her head bowed and her eyes lowered. But her back straight, and her chest puffed out.

As this image appeared in her mind, she couldn't help but cover her mouth and giggle.

Dressed in a formal suit, Daylan Kaalim impatiently paced around the front gate of the Kaalim mansion. "Mom, I'll go get Mahanoor. The procession is taking too long."

"Daylan, you can't. It's tradition to wait for the bride." Mrs. Kaalim smiled helplessly. "Have patience, son. Your wife won't run away."

"Mom, you don't understand. I...I'm afraid someone will see how beautiful my wife is and snatch her away!"

"Haha!"

The gathered neighbors and family friends burst into a peal of laughter.

Daylan's face turned red from embarrassment. He had done it again. When it came to her, his control always seemed to slip. "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh all you want. But when you see my Mahanoor, don't become red-eyed with envy." He coldly scoffed.

They hadn't seen his Mahanoor. As she always stayed inside the Junaid Mansion, very few people had seen her appearance. And when she went out to help in the fields, she wore a scarf and never raised her head. Aside from him, Daylan could even swear only the sorry excuse of a family she had, knew what she looked like.

"Brother, is she that amazing?"

Right at this moment, a deep voice exuding frost and skepticism abruptly sounded from the side. The crowd turned, and saw a tall man with black hair and piercing blue eyes slowly making his way to the front gate.

"Brother Zaafir, you made it!" Daylan laughed and moved to embrace his brother. "You were supposed to be here yesterday. Why..."

"You know how the military works. I had to wait for my leave request to be approved before I could leave."

"No matter, I'm just glad you made it in time. When you see my Mahanoor, you'll know how amazing she is." Daylan released his brother and glanced at his mother. "Mom, look. Even Zaafir is already here. I really can't wait anymore. You wait for me to bring your daughter-in-law!" Not waiting for a reply, he turned, skipped down the steps, and hurriedly scurried away.

"Sigh. This kid, what am I going to do with him? He's even breaking the tradition of our village for this girl."

Mr. Kaalim grabbed his wife's hand and gently smiled. "Since it's impossible to stop him, then just let him go. Zaafir, take your mother inside. When the procession arrives, I'll get someone to inform you."

Mrs. Kaalim didn't want to leave. She wanted to wait for her son and daughter-in-law, causing Mr. Kaalim a headache. "Grace, go inside. It's getting cold. If you get sick, who will welcome Mahanoor?"

After much persuasion and urging, Mr. Kaalim finally succeeded in convincing his wife. As he watched them enter the mansion, he clasped his hands behind his back, and hummed a soundless tune.

The jovial expression on his face could not be concealed.

His son was getting married to the woman he loved. And as a father, he couldn't help but feel happy in his happiness.

Alas, the sun sunk below the horizon, and the stars came out. The crowd grew tired from waiting, but the anticipated red palanquin did not arrive.

"What's going on? Why haven't they appeared yet?"

"Will there still be a wedding?"

"Who knows? I heard they already signed the marriage certificate. This is only a formality."

The gathered crowd sneaked furtive glances at the dark faced Mr. Kaalim and sneered with schadenfreude. The Kaalim family was too wealthy for a countryside family. If nothing happened, the neighbors could only envy them from a distance. But if they fell in an embarrassing situation, no one could blame them for throwing stones when the other was down.

Ignoring the silent whispers around him, Mr. Kaalim made several phone calls before he got in contact with someone. But the person on the line had barely said a few words, when the awaited procession slowly snaked its way towards the Kaalim gate.

Mr. Kaalim was just about to sigh in relief, when he saw a sight that drained the color from his face.

His son left to bring his bride back home. But when he finally returned, what Mr. Kaalim saw was his bloodied corpse.

"What...what the hell happened!?" He distraughtly shrieked.