Li Wanran sat in her chair, gazing at herself in the mirror while a makeup artist busied themselves in front of her.
Her face was beautiful, untouched by the passage of ti. Comparing her current appearance to her high school graduation photo, one would only notice a hint of maturity.
Who would believe she was already 34 years old?
Dressed in a pristine white wedding gown, Li Wanran rested her hands by her sides, allowing the makeup artist to finish the final touches.
The gown was pure and flawless.
“This looks perfect on you,” Ye Rong said with a satisfied smile, observing her daughter in the mirror.
Hearing her mother’s words, Li Wanran lifted her gaze slightly but didn’t respond directly. Instead, she asked a question that had been weighing on her mind.
“When can we bring Zhiyue and Xiazhi over?”
“No rush,” Ye Rong interrupted, her heels clicking on the floor as she walked to her daughter’s side.
The makeup artist finished their work and quietly exited the room, leaving the dressing room in silence.
Ye Rong bent slightly, bringing her face closer to Li Wanran’s reflection in the mirror.
“You look just like…” she murmured.
“Mom!”
“Liu Changqing will never let you have the children,” Ye Rong said firmly, still staring at her daughter’s reflection.
The impatience in Li Wanran’s voice was evident.
“It seems he’s aligned himself with Chen Jianguo’s family…”
“I told you at the ti—I didn’t care about the money, I just wanted Zhiyue and Xiazhi. But you stopped !”
Li Wanran struggled to remain calm. Her mother’s decision back then had baffled her.
From an early age, Li Wanran had known her mother to be a proud woman whose decisions were never up for debate—except by her late father.
Ye Rong remained unfazed by her daughter’s agitation. She raised a hand and lightly touched Li Wanran’s face with her fingertips.
Her daughter was younger, more beautiful—so much like herself in her pri.
From the mont Li Wanran was born, Ye Rong had silently vowed never to let her daughter walk the sa path she had.
“Liu Changqing is no real threat.”
“But!”
“That’s enough,” Ye Rong said, her tone returning to normal as she straightened up.
“Go take your photos,” she added before leaving the room, the sound of her heels and the door closing leaving the space silent once again.
Li Wanran stared at her reflection, a trace of confusion flickering in her eyes.
This was the second ti she had worn a wedding dress.
The second ti…
Outside, Li Chongming sat waiting. When he heard the sound of heels, he looked up from his phone to see Ye Rong approaching.
Smiling, he quickly pocketed his phone and stood.
“Has Wanran finished?”
“She’s ready,” Ye Rong replied with a nod.
She reached out and gently took hold of Li Chongming’s wrist, patting the back of his hand affectionately.
Her approval was unmistakable.
Ye Rong had been fond of Li Chongming since high school when she first heard his na from her daughter. He fit the ideal husband she had envisioned for her daughter—handso, well-mannered, and with the right temperant.
Unfortunately, he was intercepted by that girl from the An family, aided by the strong opposition of Li Wanran’s father.
Otherwise, it would have been Li Chongming marrying her daughter back then…
Although Li Chongming felt uneasy at Ye Rong’s intimate gestures, he maintained a polite smile.
“Have you chosen a date?”
“Yes, how about next week for the wedding?”
“No problem. Any day you pick is bound to be a good one,” he replied with enthusiasm, his words bringing a satisfied smile to Ye Rong’s face.
This was what set him apart from Liu Changqing. She had never heard such pleasant and considerate words from Liu Changqing.
After a few more words of encouragent, Ye Rong excused herself and left.
Once her car disappeared from view, Li Chongming’s sunny deanor faded.
Expression darkening, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the hand Ye Rong had touched before discarding it in a nearby trash can.
He then headed back, taking the elevator up to return to his seat.
“Keep an eye on your sister at ho. Make sure she works on her sumr howork,” Liu Changqing said as he put on his shoes at the door.
“It’s been days, and I haven’t seen her write a single word. Take away her handheld console too—if she keeps playing like that, her eyes will suffer!”
“What about you? Where are you going?”
“I’ve got errands to run,” Liu Changqing replied, holding so recently completed sketches as he left.
The door slamd shut behind him with a loud bang, leaving Liu Zhiyue stunned on the sofa.
A mont later, Liu Xiazhi’s bedroom door creaked open, and she erged, grumbling, “Why slam the door so hard?”
“Co here. I need to talk to you,” Liu Zhiyue said, gesturing for her to sit beside him.
Though puzzled, Liu Xiazhi obediently walked over and sat next to her brother.
As she looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, Liu Zhiyue cleared his throat, trying to adopt a serious expression.
“Have you done your sumr howork?”
“Nope!” Liu Xiazhi replied confidently, slumping onto the sofa like a boneless doll.
“Howork is boring! I don’t feel like doing it now!”
“And when exactly do you plan to do it?”
“Hmm…” Liu Xiazhi paused, genuinely pondering the question before her face lit up with realization.
“I’ll do it a few days before school starts!”
Liu Zhiyue sighed and placed a hand firmly on her head.
Gripping her hair gently, he leaned in close.
“You’re getting too comfortable, aren’t you? Just because Dad doesn’t nag you, you think you can do whatever you want?”
“I… I…”
Her big eyes darted nervously as her mind raced for a defense.
“But… there’s still so much ti left in the sumr…”
“Think carefully. If you do a little bit every day, you’ll finish quickly. Just thirty minutes a day…”
“Have you finished your sumr howork, big brother?”
“…”
Liu Zhiyue froze at the unexpected question.
Realization dawned on him—aside from doing a math worksheet when Zhou Shiyan visited, he hadn’t touched the rest of his assignnts.
Glancing at his sister’s pouting face, he didn’t say another word. Instead, he went to her room, retrieved her bag, and pulled out her sumr howork.
Placing it in front of her, he uttered a single command.
“Write.”
At that mont, he looked uncannily like Liu Changqing.
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