Chapter 72: Happy Wedding
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
As December arrived, the Christmas atmosphere on the streets of London became thick.
All the major shops and stores were decorated with Christmas ornaments, and colorful, twinkling lights hung above the streets, resembling a sky full of stars. Among them, the angel lights on Regent Street were the most spectacular. Centuries-old classical buildings stood on both sides, red double-decker buses shuttled back and forth, fireworks painted a dreamy scene, and bands filled the air with noise, making everything full of romance.
Song Qingluo took Wen Ruoxian to the Christmas lighting ceremony, and then to Hyde Park for the Christmas carnival to ride the Ferris wheel and roller coaster. They walked and stumbled at the outdoor skating rink, spinning around the central stage.
Afterward, they flew to Edinburgh to visit the Christmas market.
Wen Ruoxian loved handicrafts, and she bought many little trinkets along the way. Song Qingluo followed beside her, eagerly swiping her card, and even brought two bodyguards to help carry the large bags. They stayed overnight in the local area.
This wasn’t the first time they had spent Christmas abroad. But it was the first time they had each other to celebrate such a grand holiday together. They could do so many things together, making up for the times they had missed in each other's pasts.
After spending a week in Scotland, the two returned to their home in London to stock up on supplies in advance.
On Christmas Eve, most malls and restaurants were closed, and the driver, chef, and maid had all gone home for their holidays. There were no taxis available on the streets, and the subway wasn't running. It was raining, cold, and damp.
Song Qingluo clamored that she wanted to eat hot pot.
"People eat turkey for Christmas, but you want to eat hot pot."
"I just want to eat it, I want to be different from others. Besides, I have a Chinese stomach and can't get used to turkey. Regular chicken tastes way better."
"Then do you still want roast chicken?"
"I want both!"
As the only one in the house who could cook, Wen Ruoxian unsurprisingly stepped into the kitchen. She teased Song Qingluo about being different from others but was more than willing to indulge her. She opened the refrigerator and took out all the ingredients they had bought two days ago.
"Roast chicken needs to be marinated in advance; it won't be ready in time for tonight. How about we have it tomorrow?" Wen Ruoxian was mentally calculating the recipes, knowing this food was supposed to last them three days. They couldn't possibly eat it all in one meal.
"Mm, whatever Chef Wen says goes." Song Qingluo handed her an apron and helped her put it on. "Teach me how to marinate it. What seasonings should we use? Let me give it a try."
"You?"
"What about me?"
"If you do it, I'm afraid we won't have any delicious roast chicken to eat tomorrow," Wen Ruoxian teased her.
Song Qingluo protested, "What's that supposed to mean? Are you looking down on me? Indeed, I can't cook, but I'm not that terrible. I've only..." She paused, her words catching in her throat.
"Only what?"
"I only broke the oven once, and the casserole porridge spilled on the stove and the pot cracked," she said in a low voice, looking away.
Wen Ruoxian laughed so hard she couldn't straighten up, watching Song Qingluo's face turn redder and redder. She stepped forward, embracing her to soothe her. "Alright, I'll tell you how to marinate it, and then you can do it. I'll watch and make sure everything's fine."
"Hm-mm."
Her mood changed in less than three seconds, and she was happy again.
Wen Ruoxian first separated the ingredients and then started to stir-fry the hot pot base. Song Qingluo stood beside her, watching with soft waves of affection in her eyes.
She remembered when she first moved into Wen Ruoxian's home. Wen Ruoxian made her a late-night snack, with her hair casually tied back, just like now—effortlessly relaxed yet wearing a focused, serious expression, as if she was working. Even back then, she felt like she was watching her own girlfriend.
A premonition of the future, a glimpse of the present.
"Ruoxian..."
"Mm?"
"Why are you so beautiful?"
Wen Ruoxian was pouring water into the pot. She raised her head slightly, meeting Song Qingluo's infatuated gaze. She nearly lost her grip on the soup bowl and laughed, "Making someone wish they could glue their eyes to me?"
Song Qingluo reached out to steady her. "Exactly."
While waiting for the hot pot base to boil, Wen Ruoxian guided her in marinating the thawed whole chicken. This wasn't a technical task, so Song Qingluo quickly got the hang of it, spreading the mixed seasoning evenly over the chicken. She couldn't wait to make a victory sign.
Wen Ruoxian took out her phone and snapped a picture of her and the chicken.
"Why are you taking pictures?"
"To document our life."
"Oh right, I'll post it on Moments." Song Qingluo took off her gloves and pulled out her phone as well.
Those words made Wen Ruoxian's heart tremble.
Qingluo posted several updates every day, each one focused on her, while she herself was not keen on sharing her life. During this time, there had been no posts related to romance on her Moments.
She felt a bit itchy inside.
She often saw friends showing off their affection on their lists. Most of the time, she felt indifferent and just scrolled past. But occasionally, a hint of envy and melancholy would surface.
She had the most wonderful partner in the world; how could it not be worth announcing to everyone?
"Ah, the hot pot base is boiling! Let’s start cooking the meat. I want a big plate of fatty beef..." Song Qingluo’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
The tomato soup base bubbled away, exuding a rich aroma and steaming hot. It balanced their tastes perfectly, neither too spicy nor too bland.
Outside, the wind and rain battered away, while indoors it was warm and bright. A huge Christmas tree stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, adorned with twinkling lights. A mini speaker on top of the tree played Christmas songs, and under the tree, a pile of gift boxes of various sizes was stacked.
These were the "spoils" from their shopping spree.
On this holiday, Wen Ruoxian agreed to have a bit of red wine. Initially, she wanted to use a small glass, but after Song Qingluo's relentless coaxing and pleas, she ended up with a large one.
But she held her ground, insisting that just a little meant truly only a little—probably sensing that the little fox was hoping she'd get drunk and do bad things. With this guy's boundless energy, she didn't know how many times she'd be tormented.
However, Song Qingluo didn’t force her; she only poured more wine into her own glass.
Soon, her face was flushed red.
“Qingluo…”
Wen Ruoxian wanted to tell her to drink less but felt it would dampen the festive mood. The words caught in her throat as she just stared at her.
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
The flickering candlelight reflected off Song Qingluo’s rosy cheeks, like blooming mountain cherry blossoms—bright and enchanting. Her water-bright black eyes shimmered with waves of endless warmth.
It seemed as if she could clearly hear her own heartbeat.
It was getting faster and heavier.
"Mm?" Song Qingluo raised an eyebrow.
Wen Ruoxian felt as though she had been shocked, her heart racing and her mind in a flurry. She looked at the table and asked, "Are you full? Don’t just drink wine. There’s still fatty beef. Do you want a bit more?"
"I’m full, so stuffed."
She had eaten two large plates of meat by herself.
"Oh…"
"Then I’ll clean up. Go sit on the sofa and rest."
Wen Ruoxian stood up, carrying their bowls to the kitchen. She made three trips, tossing all the dishes into the dishwasher. As she added detergent, the soft sound of a violin came from the living room—it was her favorite original piece, “Breath.”
She had looped it so many times in her headphones that she could almost recite the entire melody.
No matter how many times she heard it, it was always sorrowful.
After listening quietly, she started the dishwasher and walked out, only to see Song Qingluo standing by the window, leaning against the Christmas tree, her slender arms slowly raised, and the bow was strung again.
The second original song, which once had no name, was later named "She".
Written for her.
The sound of the violin was incredibly penetrating, the melody was somber, suppressing unspeakable thoughts, reminiscing about the distant her in the deep of the night. Wen Ruoxian walked over, following the final notes, and gently applauded, "A private concert to enjoy on Christmas Eve."
"Shh," Song Qingluo put down the violin, "Close your eyes. I have a little gift for you."
"What is it?"
"Hurry up."
Wen Ruoxian obediently closed her eyes. She heard the rustling sound of paper being torn and fabric rubbing against each other. She held her breath and suddenly felt nervous. The sounds disappeared, and Song Qingluo took her left hand. A slightly cool metal ring slowly slid up from her fingertip. Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't help but open her eyes.
There was a diamond ring on her ring finger.
The ring band was curved like flowing water, inlaid with a pair of large olive leaf-shaped diamonds, nestled closely together.
"Happy wedding, Ruoxian wife," Song Qingluo lowered her head and kissed the back of her hand.
Wen Ruoxian was still immersed in the surprise, feeling a bit slow to react, "Wedding?"
"Wearing a wedding ring on the ring finger means you're married to me now. No backing out," the little fox smiled slyly, her face full of the satisfaction of a successful plan.
Wen Ruoxian suddenly understood, "But… you haven't proposed yet, and we're already married?" As she said this, not wanting to always be outmaneuvered, she also wanted to tease her. So, she deliberately shook her head, pretending to look disappointed:
"A bit perfunctory."
"And I don't think I've ever said I wanted to get married."
Song Qingluo's smile froze on her face. Anxiously, she said, "I just said that because I wanted to give you a gift. It wasn't perfunctory. I'll propose to you formally in the future. If you're not willing, then I'll just..."
"Then what?"
"Then forget it. Anyway, we can't legally get married. As long as we're by each other's side, it doesn't matter if we have that red booklet or not. A marriage certificate doesn't protect love." She had a very open-minded view.
Wen Ruoxian's lips curled up, and she pulled her into her arms with both hands, "I was teasing you. It can't always be you tricking me. I should get a chance to turn the tables, Mrs. Wen."
"Mrs. Song has gone bad again!"
"It's all thanks to Mrs. Wen's good teaching."
"Mmm."
Song Qingluo's lips were sealed.
The warm scent of herbs filled her breath, and her whole body gradually softened, melting into Wen Ruoxian's embrace. Wen Ruoxian quickly released her. Despite being the one who initiated, her face was even redder than Song Qingluo's, as if she had done something terribly outrageous, her heart pounding.
"That's not all. I can teach you more..." Song Qingluo's eyes were misty, her tongue sweeping across the corner of her lips, clearly unsatisfied and wanting more.
Wen Ruoxian turned her head away, her ears completely red. She raised her left hand and held it under the light, "What an innovative design. I was never interested in diamonds before, always thought they were a waste of money, but these two are truly beautiful. I really like them."
Song Qingluo didn't continue teasing her and went along with the conversation, "I like this design too. When I went to the store to place an order, I fell in love with it at first sight. All the other traditional styles looked so dull."
"The double olive leaves symbolize a match made in heaven, a promise remembered for lifetimes, meaning we are a pair destined to be together." She raised her left hand and shook it slightly.
An identical diamond ring was on her ring finger.
Wen Ruoxian was overjoyed. She raised her palm to interlace her fingers with Song Qingluo's, then took a photo with her phone—two pairs of slender, graceful fingers intertwined, with two sets of double-head diamonds shining brilliantly.
"Does it look good?"
“Hm-mm."
When it came to jewelry, she usually didn't like to show off, but this was a wedding gift from Qingluo, making her eager to share. As she thought about it, her fingers moved on their own, lightly tapping the screen to post the photo on her Moments—
[Hello, Mrs. Wen.]
"How are you so romantic..." Song Qingluo couldn't wait to grab her own phone.
"I want to post it too."
[Hello, Mrs. Song.]
They both liked each other's posts.
Within two minutes, Wen Ruoxian received a message from Cheng Suran:
[Looks like there's hope for a four-player mahjong game.]
It was accompanied by a smirking emoji.
Wen Ruoxian blushed and replied: [Mm.]
Cheng Suran: [I've been wanting to ask how things were going, but I always felt like I was being too nosy, prying into other people's private affairs. It was driving me crazy, but now I've finally received the best news. I'm so happy!]
[When you get back, I'll give you both a big red envelope!]
Wen Ruoxian: [Alright, then I won't be polite.]
As they teased each other, Song Qingluo received six rows of likes and a long string of "99"* blessings within just two or three minutes, making her heart feel sweet. She was about to show Wen Ruoxian when she saw her holding her phone, typing quickly while laughing uncontrollably.
*In Chinese culture 99 represents harmony and longevity: Doubled from the number 9, 99 (九十九 jiǔshíjiǔ) signifies harmony and longevity. When you choose an arrangement with 99 elements, you're expressing your desire for lasting happiness, unity, and well-being.
"Who are you chatting with? You're so happy."
"Ms. Cheng," she answered instinctively.
Song Qingluo's expression changed slightly, and she stiffly responded, "Oh..."
The dull tone reached her ears, and Wen Ruoxian was startled. She looked up and quickly explained, "She saw my Moments post and came to congratulate me. She said she wants to give us a big red envelope and bring her partner to play mahjong with us."
Song Qingluo just nodded, "Ah, I see."
Thinking of what had happened before, the days when she worked as Cheng Suran's secretary, although those days were long past, there were still lingering ripples in her heart. She also recalled that the conflict between her and Wen Ruoxian was caused by Cheng Suran, making the knot in her heart even harder to untie.
But she didn't want to make Wen Ruoxian feel troubled either.
On one side was her lover, and on the other was her friend. Being caught in the middle was very uncomfortable.
She understood it all.
“Thank President Cheng for her blessings,” she said with a smile, her eyes showing no emotion.
Then she picked up the violin. “Is there any other piece you want to hear? I’m in the mood tonight, so let's not waste this wonderful time.”
Wen Ruoxian looked at her. The smile was the same as always, but it felt like she was wearing a mask—having seen her genuine smile, Wen Ruoxian could tell what was a pretense.
“Tchaikovsky,” she said, pretending to be nonchalant as she stuffed her phone back into her pocket and sat on the sofa.
“D major?” Song Qingluo frowned. “Mm, I'm not too fond of that. With such a good atmosphere, let’s not pick classical music. How about something light and pop?”
“La Campanella”
“I said pop songs, and you want to make me break my hand?”
Wen Ruoxian replied earnestly, “A recipient of the Paganini Award wouldn’t have trouble with a piece composed by Master Paganini himself, right?”
“You... who do you think you’re underestimating!”
“Actually, I prefer the piano version. I had the privilege of listening to a contemporary master perform live. It was fluid and delicate. I wonder if someone here can manage that.”
“Piano? Sure, I can play it. Who doesn’t know how to play the piano?” Song Qingluo's competitive spirit flared up. She put down the violin and turned to leave.
“Follow me!”
Wen Ruoxian followed her to the second floor.
A grand piano was placed on the living room terrace. Because it was rarely used, a thin layer of dust had settled on its polished surface. Most of the time, it was just a decoration, there for show.
Song Qingluo had learned piano before. She considered her skill level, although not as great as that of a renowned master, at least good enough to compete lightly with professional players. She confidently sat down, recalling the sheet music in her mind, and slowly placed her hands on the black and white keys...
As she played, she began to falter. Her hands gradually struggled to keep up, and she couldn’t bridge the octaves. Her right hand's fingers were also stiff.
The flowing tinkling sound turned into a clattering noise against the wall.
Song Qingluo was sweating profusely, anxious, and distressed.
It was over.
She was going to embarrass herself.
Determined to finish, she looked at Wen Ruoxian with a guilty conscience. “How was it?”
“Others are ‘big pearls and small pearls falling on a jade plate.’”
“And me?”
“Big hammer eighty, small hammer forty.” Wen Ruoxian said, trying to hold back a twitching smile.
*originated from the 2005 Spring Festival Gala skit “Renovation” where one of the characters was smashing a wall and shouting ‘eighty!’ Later became a meme and is often used or said by gamers while their characters are smashing something.
“Hey, you... you didn’t hear anything tonight, got it? You’re deaf, and you’ve lost your memory,” Song Qingluo said, covering her face as she stood up and quickly ran back to the bedroom.
—Bang
The bedroom door is closed.
After laughing for a while, Wen Ruoxian gradually calmed down. She watched as Song Qingluo's figure disappeared behind the door, a look of worry appearing on her face. She stood up, but instead of heading to the bedroom, she went down to the first floor.
The dishwasher had finished its cycle, and all the dishes were sparkling clean. She took them out, put them back neatly in the cabinets, and carefully tidied up the kitchen.
The precious violin was still lying on the sofa.
She carefully placed the violin back into its case, zipped it up, and looked out the window. Raindrops clung to the glass, blurring her vision, and nothing could be seen clearly.
She glanced upstairs again.
Taking out her phone, she opened the WeChat app. Cheng Suran had only replied with an emoji.
She knew that Ranran was the knot in Qingluo's heart. Even though they were together now and could choose not to dwell on the past, past events couldn't just be erased at will. As long as they had happened, the traces would always remain, occasionally causing a faint pain.
The only thing that could be done was to soothe it, to let it fade.
Qingluo was also thinking about her.
Forced smiles were easily seen through. Thinking of this, she felt both sorrowful and guilty.
Before she realized it, the hour hand had already moved halfway around the clock.
After thinking it over, Wen Ruoxian picked up the violin case and stood up, ready to go upstairs. Her phone, which had been dark for a long time, suddenly lit up—
It was a call from her mother.
“Mom?”
“Ruoxian, what’s the meaning of that post on your Moments?” The woman's gentle voice carried a hint of probing.
