The Imperial Hotel.
A wedding of unparalleled extravagance was underway. The groom stood tall and handsome, while the bride, serene and beautiful, gazed at him with an unmistakable trace of sorrow in her eyes.
The emcee enthusiastically introduced the couple’s illustrious backgrounds. "Our groom, Ke Yimo, is the heir of the Cloud Sky Group—a legendary wealthy second-generation. The bride, Mo Yanqing, is not only the belle of the Foreign Languages Department at X University but also the daughter of Y City’s mayor..."
With witty remarks, the host recounted the couple’s love story, drawing bursts of laughter from the guests. Yet among the crowd, one pair of eyes remained fixed on the beautiful bride—cold and unblinking, like a serpent lying in wait.
Mo Yanqing stood quietly beside the radiant Ke Yimo, her eyes brimming with deep anguish. She reminded herself—just a little longer. Hold on a little longer, and it would all be over.
The host’s impassioned speech finally came to a pause. "Next, we present a short film personally created by our lovely bride, Mo Yanqing. It documents the couple’s journey from childhood to their beautiful love story. Please enjoy."
All eyes turned to the large screen. Mo Yanqing clenched her fists involuntarily. She knew the real show was about to begin.
At first, the film displayed adorable childhood photos of the couple—heartwarming and sweet, drawing smiles from the audience.
Then came a series of comical baby photos of the groom, stark naked, sending the crowd into fits of laughter. Ke Yimo pressed his lips together, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush of embarrassment.
He glanced at Mo Yanqing, noticing her slightly pale complexion. Assuming she was nervous, he discreetly reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When she looked up, he flashed her a warm smile and tightened his grip.
Her heart ached. He had always been so gentle. But even the kindest souls could plunge a dagger into your heart when you least expected it, leaving you in unbearable agony.
After a few more ordinary photos, the audience began to lose interest—until a full-back nude shot of a man flashed onto the screen, instantly seizing everyone’s attention.
The slideshow continued, soon switching to a woman’s bare back. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Ke Yimo’s face drained of color as he recognized the figures in the images. Panicked, he turned to Mo Yanqing, only to find her staring unwaveringly at the screen.
Then came the climax—a frontal shot of the man and woman locked in a naked embrace...
The room fell dead silent. Moments later, a woman seated among the bride’s guests let out a piercing scream, covered her face, and bolted from the hall.
Ke Yimo stared at the fluorescent screen in shock, feeling utterly exposed under the collective gaze of the crowd. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white as he spun around, glaring at Mo Yanqing with burning intensity. "A-Qing, you—"
Mo Yanqing's heart ached, but she ignored his fury. With composed grace, she walked over to the stunned host, took the microphone from his limp hands, and announced coolly, "As you've all witnessed, I will not be marrying him."
Placing the microphone back into the host's grasp with deliberate elegance, she turned on her heel and strode out of the venue before anyone could react, her exit as decisive as it was dramatic.
"Mo Yanqing, stop right there!" Ke Yimo's voice was a raw, furious roar, his eyes locked onto her retreating figure with seething rage.
She didn't pause. Though she moved through the crowd with apparent poise, her calm facade belied the storm inside—waves of heartbreak crashed over her relentlessly. This wedding had been her meticulously planned "farewell." The hidden cameras had been her doing, and the woman who had fled in tears moments earlier was none other than her maid of honor—her own younger sister.
Amid the chaos, a tall, imposing figure rose from the crowd. His sharp eyes tracked Mo Yanqing's disappearing form, a shadow flickering in their depths, as if something dark and unspoken threatened to spill forth.
His assistant quickly stood beside him, voice hushed. "President Jing, shall we leave now?"
Bai Jingtian arched a brow, his lips curling into a faint, dangerous smirk. "The show's over. Unless you'd like to stay and toast the happy couple?"
The assistant stiffened, unmistakable wariness flashing across his face as he took a step back. Bai Jingtian cast one last glance at the pandemonium unfolding in the hotel lobby before turning on his heel and striding away without another word.