Chapter 242
Close to noon, Mu Dai took a shower and grabbed a hair dryer to dry her hair. She had wanted to head back to the inn earlier, but Cao Yanhua had called Luo Ren and said they should come back later if possible—they were setting things up, and the two of them would only get in the way.
The hair dryer buzzed loudly. Along with that steady hum, fragments of last night’s memories suddenly flashed through her mind. Her forearms and legs tingled as if electrified. She had to brace herself against the sink, afraid she might lose her balance.
Halfway through drying her hair, Luo Ren came in and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
It was their first physical contact since getting up. Mu Dai panicked, her hand trembling as she switched off the dryer.
The electric hum vanished. The bathroom fell quiet. The scent from her shower still lingered, and occasionally the showerhead dripped.
“What’s wrong?” Luo Ren asked.
Mu Dai didn’t know how to answer. After a long pause, she said, “It just feels… kind of strange.”
“You don’t like it?”
“Not that…”
Luo Ren laughed, took the dryer from her hand, and set it aside. Turning her gently to face him, he said, “Come on. Look at me.”
She wouldn’t. She still felt awkward, her head lowered. He didn’t force her. Instead, he held her in his arms, resting his chin against her forehead and lightly stroking her half-dry hair.
“Little girl,” he murmured.
Her nose suddenly stung. After a long moment, she wrapped her arms around him. She had never been this close to someone before—so close she almost felt she was losing herself.
From their first tense meeting to now, when she willingly followed him wherever he went—she couldn’t quite understand how it had all happened.
A bittersweet anxiety made her cling to his embrace, reluctant to let go.
Luo Ren let her be. He said nothing more. He handled her emotions with perfect measure.
Meeting someone like this in life—maybe that was a kind of fall. You dive in and can’t climb back out. Only the ground is soft. You don’t break your head or your heart. You aren’t mistreated. You fall willingly.
Almost without thinking, Mu Dai asked, “Luo Xiaodao, do you like me?”
Luo Ren said, “That kind of question is usually asked before, not after.”
Before, you have leverage. After, you’re at someone else’s mercy.
Mu Dai looked up at him, her eyes damp, stubborn and pure.
He gazed at her for a long time, then said, “Later today, I’m going to marry the girl I cherish most. What do you think—do I like her?”
By the time they returned to the inn, it was afternoon edging toward dusk.
From a distance, they could already see the red “double happiness” character pasted on the half-open gate, a red lantern trembling from the hook.
When they stepped inside, the lantern overhead swayed gently, casting a wash of red across their faces.
Everything was nearly ready. Large red characters, colorful ribbons, pink balloons tied high overhead. Conditions were limited; some preparations looked simple and cramped. But the festive spirit was unmistakable.
On the bar counter, every slender-necked bottle held a single lily. Mao Sao had suggested roses instead, but Wan San had spread his hands and said, “Sister-in-law, I know roses are more dramatic. But special circumstances call for special solutions. Luo Ren and the boss lady don’t like roses.”
A canopy had been set up in the courtyard, with a long bartending table beside it. The invitation promised that the best man, Wan San, would perform professional-level cocktail mixing during the banquet—B-52s, Screwdrivers, Dreamy Lake Geneva—and even unveil a heavyweight original creation.
Two large round tables stood beneath the canopy. Besides the original guests, all the inn’s boarders had received invitations. People were always happy to witness a moment of happiness. Though the bridesmaid Yan Hongsha had insisted no gifts were needed, some still pressed red envelopes into their hands. Others had gone out to buy special presents for the newlyweds.
The hired chef was already in the kitchen. Ingredients and dishes were spread from inside to outside. The chopping never stopped.
The glass bookhouse had been converted into a small music stage. Mao Ge had pulled in two street musicians from the old city to handle the wedding music. They were tuning their guitars and warming up with “Tomorrow I’m Marrying You.”
“Today I’m marrying you, today I’m marrying you…”
They sang with deep emotion, utterly immersed. Mao Ge couldn’t help worrying they might steal the spotlight. Who exactly was getting married today?
Suddenly, a small figure came running in, dressed in a glittering Qing Dynasty-style vest and wearing a melon hat. “Pocket Auntie!”
It was Yue Xiaofeng. Mu Dai laughed helplessly and picked him up. The hat was too big and kept slipping over his eyes.
According to the fortune teller’s plan, the wedding needed a flower boy. At the bouquet toss, Yue Xiaofeng would carry the bouquet to Mu Dai.
When renting clothes, the shopkeeper had recommended a child-sized tuxedo. The fortune teller refused, claiming it would clash outfits. Yue Feng suspected he was just afraid his son would look more handsome than him.
Yue Feng didn’t mind. His son’s good looks were natural—no dull clothing could dim them.
“Pocket Auntie, where did you go? I couldn’t find you!”
He had to push his hat up twice just to finish one sentence.
Mu Dai kissed his cheek. Before she could respond, the fortune teller hurried over. “Yue Xiaofeng, focus on rehearsal! Today you’re the star, the big celebrity, got it?”
Yue Xiaofeng put on airs. “I’m tired.”
“I’ll replace you then! I’ll find another kid!”
He hesitated for two seconds between rest and stardom, then wriggled down and followed the fortune teller back to practice, pushing his hat up as he went.
Mu Dai’s eyes grew damp with warmth. She asked Mao Ge, “Was all this the fortune teller’s idea?”
“Him?” Mao Ge scoffed. “He’s just officiating. The rest…”
He pointed toward Luo Ren, who was talking to Wan San. “Your Luo Xiaodao started it. Said even if conditions were limited, it had to be complete. The more lively the better. Invitations, supplies, decorations—it all costs money. I’m not close enough to you two to foot the bill. If he didn’t pay, who would?”
In the bridal room, Mu Dai changed into the new clothes she’d brought: black Oxford-cloth pencil pants and a cream-colored cashmere sweater.
She checked herself in the mirror—and immediately stomped her foot in alarm.
Luo Ren came quickly. She pointed at her collar. “Look! Look!”
Marks he’d left—at her neckline and behind her neck.
“It’s fine,” he said seriously. “They’re mechanical purpura. Caused by strong suction or friction breaking tiny blood vessels. Not life-threatening.”
She threw a pillow at him.
He laughed and pulled her into his arms. “The wedding’s at night. No one will see.”
Eventually, he loosened her hair to cover the back of her neck, draped a few strands forward, and adjusted her pearl whistle necklace to distract the eye.
Barely passable.
Outside, the noise swelled. It was time.
Zheng Mingshan had come, representing their martial sect.
He brought her a dowry wrapped in faded red silk embroidered with mandarin ducks and heavenly maidens—symbols of good fortune.
Inside was a set of silver jewelry, oxidized with age: necklace, bracelets, rings, earrings, pendants, collar pins, cufflinks. Nearly every piece bore a carved plum blossom pattern.
Only one item was missing: the plum-blossom silver hairpin.
“Master wore it her whole life,” Zheng Mingshan said softly. “So I let her take it with her.”
He placed a hand on Mu Dai’s shoulder.
“Master asked me to tell you: we martial artists carry one breath within us. Not just us—everyone does. With that breath, we face the world.”
“The world is vast. Don’t try to show off to it, to intimidate it. If you vent your strength against it, you’ll only exhaust yourself. Instead, gather inward. Stay steady. When your breath is calm, the world can’t knock you down.”
Mu Dai whispered, “Senior Brother… I’m doing well.”
Outside, cheers rose.
It was time.
Zheng Mingshan took her hand and led her to the door.
“Go,” he said. “Life is long. There are many hurdles. This is one. There will be countless more. Take them one by one.”
Mu Dai smiled—and opened the door.
(The End)
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Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152