Wedding

Two days later, at the Royal Hotel in Gedo.

When Lu Qianqian and Ji Wushuang arrived at the suite door, travel-worn and weary, Mo Qingli, along with the recently arrived Lou Mengling and Lin Shuhan, froze in disbelief.

"Qianqian?"

Mo Qingli could hardly believe her eyes.

Lu Qianqian stared at Mo Qingli.

At the simple, elegant loungewear she wore, and at the shackle around her ankle—more glaring in person than it had appeared in the news.

Her face, which had always managed to smile through war and hardship, instantly crumpled.

Tears fell like broken strings of pearls, streaming down uncontrollably.

She rushed forward, throwing her arms around Mo Qingli, sobbing like a child who had suffered unbearable injustice.

"Qingli-jie… How could they do this to you… Wuwuwu…"

"How dare they!"

All her strength, all her pretense, collapsed the moment she saw her loved one.

Mo Qingli held her, gently patting her back, her own eyes glistening with tears.

Lou Mengling and Lin Shuhan, both mothers now, turned away, discreetly wiping their eyes.

Lu Chenyuan walked over and ruffled his sister’s hair.

"Alright, no more crying."

"Your brother isn’t dead yet."

Lu Qianqian looked up at him, her face wet with tears, then punched him hard, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Brother! You too! You scared me to death!"

The family was finally reunited—in this foreign "cage," of all places.

The scene was absurd, yet undeniably warm.

……

The wedding was scheduled for the next day.

The venue: the Xia Embassy in Country J.

Here, on Xia soil—sacred and inviolable.

There were no elaborate ceremonies, no hundreds of guests.

Not even a white wedding gown.

Mo Qingli simply wore a traditional red silk dress that Lin Shuhan had brought from Xia.

The crimson fabric made her skin glow like snow, her beauty breathtaking.

Lu Chenyuan wore a simple red modern-style mandarin-collar suit, his posture as straight as an unsheathed sword.

The witnesses were few:

The two mothers, Lou Mengling and Lin Shuhan.

Lu Qianqian and Ji Wushuang.

And Ambassador Li Wenbo, who officiated.

The embassy’s small hall was decorated simply yet solemnly, with only a bright national flag hanging at the center.

Ambassador Li Wenbo stood beneath it, looking at the couple before him with solemn emotion.

He had presided over countless events, witnessed many historic moments—but none had stirred him like this.

This was no ordinary wedding.

This was a vow made under the world’s gaze, amid the enemy’s fire.

The bravest, most romantic, and most tragic resistance of two of Xia’s finest.

"Lu Chenyuan, do you take Mo Qingli to be your wife, to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, till death do you part?"

Lu Chenyuan turned to Mo Qingli.

His gaze was as gentle as an ocean.

"I, Lu Chenyuan, take you, Mo Qingli, as my only wife."

His voice was steady and clear.

"From this day forward, your shackles are mine."

"Your freedom is the rest of my life."

"I will stay here until we go home—together."

He didn’t say "I do."

His vow was a promise sealed with his very being.

Mo Qingli’s tears welled up but never fell.

She simply smiled at him.

Ambassador Li turned to her.

"Mo Qingli, do you take Lu Chenyuan to be your husband, to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, till death do you part?"

"I, Mo Qingli, take you, Lu Chenyuan, as my only husband."

Her voice was just as firm.

"The eye of the storm is my harbor."

"Where you are, that is home."

"I trust you. I stand with you."

Then came the exchange of rings.

Still the same tin-thread ring Lu Chenyuan had crafted himself.

As he slid it onto her finger, the electronic shackle around her ankle seemed a ludicrous irony.

It could bind her steps, but not her heart—nor her love.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Ambassador Li’s voice trembled slightly.

"May you live happily together till old age."

Sparse yet heartfelt applause filled the hall.

The two mothers and Lu Qianqian were already weeping.

Lu Chenyuan embraced his wife—a restrained hug that spoke volumes.

There was no champagne, no cake.

At the wedding’s conclusion, Lu Chenyuan released a statement to the world through the embassy.

It contained just one line:

"I, Lu Chenyuan, will remain in Gedo to accompany my wife, Mo Qingli, until Country J’s judiciary clears her name."

The world erupted once more. Everyone was stunned by Lu Chenyuan’s decision.

He hadn’t come to negotiate.

He hadn’t come to pressure.

He had made himself the hottest potato in Country J—and even Country A’s—hands.

A hostage they dared neither touch nor release.

With his own freedom, he had built an unbreakable wall around his wife.

And bought Xia’s tech war the most precious breathing room.

…………

Jingzhou, Lianshan Tech Headquarters.

In the CEO’s office on the top floor, a massive holographic screen replayed the news.

Before the Xia flag at the embassy in Country J, Lu Chenyuan and Mo Qingli stood side by side.

No grand spectacle, no clamoring crowd.

Just a handful of loved ones—and the lenses of the global media.

Along with Lu Chenyuan’s earth-shattering declaration.

Lin Yuan muted the sound.

He simply watched in silence.

Watched the man he had followed for over a decade, his mentor and friend, place himself at the storm’s center with unshakable resolve.

Lin Yuan remembered years ago, in university, how he had pledged himself to Lu Chenyuan after the latter covered his mother’s medical bills without hesitation.

Later, upholding Lu Chenyuan’s vision, he founded Yuanlong Tech, forging ahead against all odds.

And now, leading Lianshan’s independence from Yuanlong, charting his own course.

At first, Lin Yuan’s loyalty had been purely personal—a debt of life.

But over time, he and Ren Qian had embraced Lu Chenyuan’s dream as their own, pouring every waking hour into their work.

Personal feelings, family life—all were deferred to "when there’s time."

That notion had ruled them like an invisible curse for too long.

For years, Lu Chenyuan had let time slip by, sharing a roof with Mo Qingli yet never seizing the moment—until cold, electronic shackles delivered the wake-up call.

Some things couldn’t wait.

What about myself, then?