Chapter 3 Marriage, Today

Chapter 3: Get Married, Today

Guan Yingtang’s first thought: Was this an April Fool’s joke?

Without any warning, she was supposed to marry a man she had just met?

Guan Yingtang rolled up the scroll and looked at Meng Qinghuai. “Mr. Meng, is there some misunderstanding here?”

Meng Qinghuai looked away. “The matter of the marriage alliance wasn’t my decision alone. Miss Guan, of course, has the right to refuse.”

Guan Yingtang: “...”

The words “marriage alliance” registered with her, and suddenly, everything made sense.

No wonder her parents had been unusually adamant about her attending tonight’s birthday banquet. No wonder Huo Ling had introduced Meng Qinghuai to her with such meaningful looks. No wonder they had hit it off so well with the Meng couple. Even Fu Shengyun had known all along.

It had always been like this—her parents calling the shots for her, from petty decisions like what hairstyle she wore in kindergarten to major life choices like which schools to attend abroad, what major to study, and now, even something as significant as marriage. They had arranged it all without a word.

Guan Yingtang took a deep breath to collect herself and asked Meng Qinghuai, “Did Mr. Meng never consider refusing? Before tonight, we didn’t even know each other.”

Refuse?

As the eldest son raised as the heir, Meng Qinghuai had understood the importance of family legacy since childhood. Marriage alliances were the simplest means of consolidating resources in the world of privilege. Ensuring the long-term prosperity of the family was his duty.

By adulthood, he had known clearly that he had no say in love or marriage.

Still, Meng Qinghuai replied, “If Miss Guan is unwilling, I won’t force the matter.”

Guan Yingtang didn’t know whether to call him reckless or rational—treating marriage so calmly, as if it were a business deal. Sign on if suitable, replace if it doesn’t.

Crossing Victoria Harbour, the Maybach turned from Prince Edward Road West onto Kadoorie Avenue. Far from the bustle of the city, the road was lined with towering ancient trees, and rows of grand villas were hidden behind lush greenery. The quiet setting matched the tension between the two in the car.

A cool night breeze drifted in. Guan Yingtang closed her eyes, suppressing her anger, and seethed inwardly at her parents—*Insane!*

-

Huo Ling and Guan Zhiheng returned home half an hour later.

The couple walked in with smiles, as if still relishing the banquet. Seeing Guan Yingtang sitting on the living room sofa, they paused. “Why are you back so early?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Guan Yingtang barely contained her anger. “Should I have gone straight to the registry with that Mr. Meng and gotten married before coming back?”

Huo Ling, puzzled, sat beside her daughter. “Isn’t Qinghuai good enough? You said you wanted someone handsome, tall, successful, and devoted. The Mengs’ eldest son fits all your criteria. Young as he is, he’s already the CEO of Yawan Group, with a spotless personal life—they say he’s never even had a girlfriend. What more could you want?”

Yes, Meng Qinghuai was perfect on paper, but Guan Yingtang resented being railroaded.

“I wish you’d respect me enough to consider my feelings before arranging for me to marry a total stranger.”

Guan Zhiheng frowned. “So you’re saying you’re not satisfied with Qinghuai?”

Guan Yingtang: “I’m not satisfied with *you*. I just want—”

“Okay.” Guan Zhiheng raised a hand to interrupt her. “It doesn’t matter if you’re unhappy with us, as long as you like Qinghuai.”

Guan Yingtang: “...”

Absurd. When had she ever said she liked Meng Qinghuai?

She turned to her mother in exasperation. Huo Ling pursed her lips and spoke softly, “Your Uncle Meng mentioned that Qinghuai cleared his schedule to attend tonight—probably just to meet you. Your father and I both think he’s the best and most suitable match. You should trust us. We’d only choose the best for you.”

“So,” Guan Yingtang scoffed, “I have no choice but to marry him?”

Originally, Guan Zhiheng had wanted to fortify connections with their old family friends, the Jiangs, through marriage. But half a year ago, at a government banquet, he had unexpectedly met Meng Songnian. When they later discussed their similarly aged children, the two had immediately agreed on the idea of a marriage alliance.

The Jiangs were new money in Hong Kong, but not all wealthy families were the same. Though the Mengs were now in business, from Meng Qinghuai’s grandfather to his maternal grandfather, the previous generation’s social influence bridged Hong Kong and the mainland. Even Meng Songnian and his wife, Zhuang Jiayi, represented a political-business alliance between the two regions.

The Mengs were drawn to the Guan family’s scholarly reputation and Guan Yingtang’s poise and accomplishments, hoping she could become the next Zhuang Jiayi, maintaining the family’s influence across both sides.

Admittedly, Guan Zhiheng also wanted his daughter to marry into top-tier wealth.

Print journalism was dying, and the decades-old *Gangcheng Daily*, founded by the Guans, had inevitably gone free-to-read, relying solely on ad revenue.

While their scholarly prestige still held value, Guan Zhiheng wanted to secure a prosperous future for his daughter.

But she was still his flesh and blood. He didn’t want to push too hard and drive a wedge between them.

After a tense silence, he backed down, “Your Uncle Meng has picked a favorable date three months from now. Before then, you can spend time with Qinghuai and see how it goes.”

If she really didn’t like him, he wouldn’t force it.

But that sentence Guan Zhiheng didn’t say out loud.

Huo Ling jumped in, “Qinghuai is returning to Beicheng tomorrow morning. Maybe you could send him off, just as a ges—”

“You can send him off yourselves if you’re so eager.”

Guan Yingtang shut her parents down, went upstairs to her bedroom, and shut the door.

Kicking off her heels, she flung herself onto the sofa, trying to calm herself and process the night’s events.

She never imagined that at 23, she’d be handed this role of a marriage alliance.

But if she was honest with herself, Guan Yingtang knew deep down that girls from families like hers almost always followed this path. Love was never a necessity in the face of family interests.

Her older cousins—both male and female—had already taken this road, using their actions to maintain the family’s standing and resources.

Guan Yingtang couldn’t help feeling bitter.

For the sake of being called “Hong Kong’s First Daughter,” she had played a part for over 20 years, diligently playing the role of the model society debutante in everyone’s eyes. Even something as life-altering as marriage wasn’t hers to choose.

After closing her eyes and calming down for a while, her phone pinged.

Her personal assistant had sent a message: *Miss Guan, the interview questions from Elegant Magazine have been sent to your email. Please review them when you have time.*

Guan Yingtang switched to her email blank-faced.

Not long ago, she had successfully hosted a fundraising gala for her uncle’s charity foundation, drawing media attention and interview requests from several magazines. Huo Ling had chosen *Elegant*, the most prestigious, and scheduled an interview for this week.

Guan Yingtang opened the list of questions.

She scowled as she read.

*What kind of books does Miss Guan usually enjoy?*

*How does Miss Guan view the role of knowledge and wisdom in her life?*

*As a descendant of a family of scholars, does Miss Guan feel a responsibility to uphold her family’s intellectual heritage?*

...

After reading just a few questions, Guan Yingtang could already foresee how dull this interview would be. And as usual, she had to prepare standard answers in advance.

The image Guan Yingtang presented to the outside world was always flawless, impeccable. She was the spokesperson of the Guan family, the shiniest trophy of the entire clan.

Guan Zhiheng had been creating a legend, and he had succeeded.

But with success, he also clipped Guan Yingtang’s wings.

She was trapped in a gilded prison, soaking up praise, yet never truly free.

The lengthy interview questions were followed by scripted responses from the PR team, which only irritated Guan Yingtang further.

She had thought about refusing, but even if she declined once, there would be countless more to come.

As long as she lived on this land, she would be forced to maintain the refined intellectual image she had upheld for over twenty years.

A 23-year-old who had never been in love, never set foot in a bar or nightclub—every aspect of her life revolved around elegance, even the length of her skirts was strictly regulated.

And now, without ever experiencing a taste of freedom, she was getting married.

From one prison to another.

Guan Yingtang closed her eyes. Tonight, a long-suppressed rebelliousness bubbled up like a boiling pot, threatening to spill over.

Was Guan Zhiheng out of his mind? An arranged marriage was bad enough, but why send her all the way to Beicheng?

Beicheng! A thousand miles away, in the shadow of the capital—a place completely foreign to her!

What kind of cruel father would do this?

What kind of ridiculous arrangement was this?

How could—

Just as Guan Yingtang’s complaints were building into an internal tirade in her mind, her thoughts suddenly halted.

As if triggered by a thought, she replayed the words that had just flashed through her head.

Wait—

Utterly unfamiliar?

-

Meng Qinghuai had indeed cleared his schedule to make this trip to Hong Kong.

The outside world only knew that Fu Shengyun had a graceful protégée, Guan Yingtang. Hardly anyone knew that among Fu Shengyun’s only two students, Meng Qinghuai was the other.

He had started late—it wasn’t until he went abroad at sixteen that his parents introduced him to Fu Shengyun.

The difference was, Guan Zhiheng needed the title of "Fu Shengyun’s final disciple" to uphold Guan Yingtang’s carefully crafted image in Hong Kong.

What Meng Songnian demanded of Meng Qinghuai, however, was focus and patience.

The heir of a conglomerate needed, above all, unshakable mental resilience—the ability to remain calm and composed under any circumstance, any pressure.

At sixteen, Meng Qinghuai was already exceptional, but he still had youthful impulsiveness. So Meng Songnian sent his son to practice calligraphy. Writing was akin to tempering the mind, and through years of subtle refinement, he molded the eldest son of the Meng family into the unshakably composed man he was today.

Thus, for his teacher’s significant birthday, Meng Qinghuai had to attend.

Though before his departure, Zhuang Jiayi had suggested, “While you’re there, you could also meet Miss Guan.”

Meng Qinghuai had been informed about the arranged marriage a week prior. During dinner, Meng Songnian had straightforwardly handed him a photo of Guan Yingtang on his phone and asked, “What do you think of this girl? She’s from Hong Kong. Her father and your grandfather’s family are old friends.”

Meng Qinghuai examined the photo, hesitated momentarily, and answered with a single word.

—“Fine.”

But now, it seemed the young lady of the Guan family was less than willing.

This trip had been a last-minute addition to his itinerary, and Meng Qinghuai was due to return to Beicheng the next morning.

The Meng family’s Hong Kong residence was in Deep Water Bay—a three-story white villa commanding a prime location, nestled against the mountains and facing the water, surrounded by lush greenery, with the Deep Water Bay Golf Course right next door.

At eight in the morning, the estate’s iron gates slowly opened. Before he got into the car, Zhuang Jiayi slipped a note with a phone number into Meng Qinghuai’s hand.

“Before you leave, remember to call Miss Guan. Tell her you’ll be back this weekend to have tea with her.”

Meng Qinghuai: “...”

He sighed. “Mom, that wasn’t planned.”

“Make time.” Zhuang Jiayi frowned. “Miss Guan is an aristocratic lady. Do you expect her to take the initiative?”

Meng Qinghuai wouldn’t dream of it.

Last night, when that woman had stared at him in the car with wide, bright eyes—so stunned she even forgot to take the master’s calligraphy from their teacher—he’d suspected she might refuse the marriage.

“Fine.” With only an hour until departure, Meng Qinghuai didn’t want to delay, so he relented for now.

The black sedan set off from Deep Water Bay. As they passed Repulse Bay Road, Meng Qinghuai lowered the window.

The morning sun danced on the waves of Middle Island, and the breeze swayed gently the masts of the yachts.

This was Hong Kong’s largest natural harbor, where many magnates docked their private yachts.

Meng Qinghuai studied the view for a moment, then, as if recalling something, paused and took out the sticky note Zhuang Jiayi had given him.

He punched in the number, but after half a second, he heard the recorded message: “The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time.”

Meng Qinghuai wasn’t one to push.

Not in business, and least of all marriage.

Perhaps it was fate—for a woman unwilling to marry, this call was pointless from the start.

He didn’t try again, putting his phone away. The car soon made its way through the morning traffic and arrived at Hong Kong International Airport.

The Meng family had three children. The eldest, Meng Qinghuai, was aloof and unflappable; the second, Meng Fanchuan, was a free spirit; the youngest, Meng Wennuo, was the only daughter and the family’s cherished darling.

Each sibling had received a Gulfstream jet as their eighteenth birthday gift. Hong Kong was also their mother Zhuang Jiayi’s hometown, so Meng Qinghuai often traveled between the two cities, with a dedicated concierge team at the airport.

The staff responsible for coordinating Meng Qinghuai’s private flight arrangements were already waiting at the VIP entrance. Spotting him, they immediately approached and said, “Mr. Meng, a lady claims to be your friend and says she has something urgent to discuss.”

Meng Qinghuai frowned.

A lady? A friend?

Very few people knew about this trip to Hong Kong, let alone his return flight details. Aside from his parents and his assistant, no outsiders should have been aware.

“Where is she?” Meng Qinghuai asked as he walked toward the private terminal.

"We couldn't verify her identity, so we had her wait in your VIP lounge." The woman's presence was simply too striking—even with sunglasses and a mask covering her entire face, no one could possibly mistake her for any sort of threat.

If anything—some of the airport staff had privately speculated about the heir's clandestine affair with a certain celebrity.

The private corridor led quickly to Meng Qinghuai's usual VIP lounge. He could have bypassed it entirely and headed straight to the tarmac, but as he passed the door, he hesitated.

He didn’t have any female friends in Hong Kong.

Unless—if he had to name one—could the fiancée he’d only met last night technically count?

An attentive airport employee opened the door for him. As it swung open, a willowy, elegant silhouette came into view.

Hearing the movement, the woman turned her head.

She stood alone by the window, her long hair no longer meticulously styled as it had been the night before, now casually cascading down her back, lending her an air of casual elegance.

No wonder the airport couldn’t confirm her identity—with sunglasses and a mask obscuring nearly her entire face, who could have recognized her—

As the unapproachable Guan family heiress.

A barely perceptible hint of emotion flashed in Meng Qinghuai's eyes before he calmly instructed those beside him, "Wait for me on the plane."

"Yes, sir."

The entourage cleared out of the lounge, and Meng Qinghuai stepped inside expressionlessly, closing the door behind him.

The room suddenly carried a tense, heavy atmosphere.

It felt like a kind of exposure—as if she'd seen right through him.

Sure enough, before Guan Yingtang could even put on airs, Meng Qinghuai had already addressed her by name: "What brings Miss Guan here?"

Guan Yingtang: "..."

There was a reason this man had once ruled the school.

Guan Yingtang, used to putting on acts, remained composed. She calmly removed her sunglasses and mask, offering Meng Qinghuai a small, knowing smile. "Would you mind an extra passenger on your plane?"

Meng Qinghuai frowned, clearly not understanding.

"What are you suggesting, Miss Guan?"

"I'm going to Northern Capital with you."

"..."

"To get married." Guan Yingtang held his stare, her tone steady and determined. "Today."

Meng Qinghuai: *?*