Chapter 12: It’s Not Her First Time in a Wedding Dress

“Come over.” Shen Qingci said lightly.

Xi Xingye stood with one hand in his pocket, his temper flaring. “What? You planning to take me down too?”

But Shen Qingci just nodded at the ice pack by her side and pushed it toward him. “Put it on your face.”

Xi Xingye paused. “Now you’re being all attentive? Let me tell you, it won’t work—I don’t fall for this.”

He wanted to curse more, but his lips moved, then he fell silent.

Damn it, this woman interrupted him so suddenly he didn’t even know what to say.

Xi Xingye gritted his teeth, finally shaking his head and walking off, pretending to be aloof.

After showering and lying on the bed, he still couldn’t sleep.

He kicked the blanket off.

It’s just a wedding—just think of it as attending someone else’s ceremony. He didn’t like that crazy woman anyway, so what was there to think about?

He closed his eyes, but after barely three seconds, they opened again.

Irritated, he turned over—and the next second…

“Argh!”

A miserable scream escaped as he bounced upright from the bed.

Damn it! His face was swollen!

He punched the air several times in frustration.

“Knock knock—”

The sound of knocking made him stop mid-motion.

Outside, Shen Qingci’s clear voice rang out: “The ice pack is at the door.”

Before Xi Xingye could curse, her calm voice spoke again.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to use it, but all those spoiled rich boys you’re connected with will be there, right? Some of the top ten playboys in the capital… second place was someone… Zheng Yaozong? Hope he doesn’t see you like this and laugh behind your back.”

Xi Xingye’s face darkened.

His face looked like this all thanks to that crazy woman!

After speaking, Shen Qingci left without lingering.

The hallway fell silent.

A few seconds later, the door suddenly opened.

A hand reached out, quickly grabbed the ice pack, and gently closed the door again.

Shen Qingci stood in the shadows, arms crossed, smiling briefly before turning away.

She returned to her bedroom and lay down.

Half an hour passed, yet her eyes remained clear and alert.

At that moment, her phone rang—Su Yingying was calling.

“Qingci, really, I don’t have to be your bridesmaid tomorrow? Even though you’re going to divorce eventually, what if one day you suddenly decide not to? I’d completely miss your wedding!”

Listening to Su Yingying’s frantic chatter, Shen Qingci replied casually, “No need.”

The wedding wouldn’t happen anyway.

Seeing her insist, Su Yingying didn’t press further.

“Alright, but it’s such a shame—I won’t get to see you in your wedding dress for the first time. You’d definitely look gorgeous!”

They chatted a little longer. Su Yingying asked eighteen rapid-fire questions, from how the wedding night would go to what stage her relationship with Xi Xingye had reached, before finally hanging up.

The night was quiet. Shen Qingci sat on the bed, listening to the wind rustle the leaves outside, her gaze fixed and somewhat distant.

This wasn’t her first time wearing a wedding dress.

In that apocalyptic environment, a wedding dress had always been a luxury.

Yet someone had risked his life, passed through zombies to get fabric for her, and personally designed and made a dress.

It had been beautiful—but in the end, stained with his blood.

That person had died on their wedding day to save her…

Shen Qingci pushed away all distractions and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, a professional makeup team arrived.

After Sister Zhang opened the door, she guided everyone into Shen Qingci’s bedroom and had some snacks prepared.

Two hours later, as the departure time approached, she gently knocked. “Young Madam, are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” Shen Qingci replied, pushing the door open.

Instantly, brilliance met her eyes, and Sister Zhang froze in place.

The wedding dress was silk, strapless with exposed shoulders, fitted at the waist and flaring out, layers cascading like a waterfall of roses.

Such a vintage, luxurious gown could easily overwhelm someone’s aura, yet on Shen Qingci, it did not overshadow her in the slightest.

Especially with her eye makeup and red lips—it was radiant, almost blindingly beautiful.

As Shen Qingci approached, Sister Zhang regained her breath and exclaimed, “I—I—I should call the Young Master!”

Just as she turned, a servant hurried over with a report.

Shen Qingci’s sharp ears caught it.

“Xi Xingye has already left?” she asked, expression unreadable, seemingly unconcerned. “Then let’s go too.”

Without waiting for a response, she lifted her skirt and entered the elevator.

Upon exiting, she took two steps and frowned.

The enormous dress skirt was more of a hindrance than anything else.

She bent down, lifted it, and headed outside.

There, Old Master Xi stood at the doorway, smiling at her. “Little girl… today you really—”

His praise caught in his throat, unable to escape.

Following his gaze, Sister Zhang and the others looked down.

Under Shen Qingci’s wedding dress, she wore cotton striped pajamas and fluffy house slippers.

“…”

As Shen Qingci got into the car, Sister Zhang watched Old Master Xi’s face fall and awkwardly reassured him, “Sir, don’t worry. The Young Madam is just… carefree?”

The last words sounded less and less convincing.

“Sigh.”

The old man sighed deeply, tears welling up inside.

At this rate, when would he get to hold his great-granddaughter?

Meanwhile, Shen Qingci drove into the five-star hotel in a wedding car.

The wedding venue was extravagantly luxurious. A red carpet stretched at least 500 meters, lined with imported fresh flowers, luxury cars, and a steady stream of guests.

As Shen Qingci stepped out, another car stopped behind, and a voice shouted from the crowd.

“Shen Qingci!”

The male voice sounded hostile.

She turned, seeing Shen Shirou being helped into a wheelchair by a bodyguard, while Shen Lan carefully stayed close, seemingly afraid she might get hurt.

Once Shen Shirou was seated, Shen Lan pushed the wheelchair forward himself.

His gaze was full of disdain. “Still won’t admit you married an old man?”

Earlier, he and Shen Shirou had taken a car into the hotel entrance and saw that everything within a radius of one mile had been decorated.

Shirou said the luxury and scale were beyond what ordinary people could afford.

In the entire capital circle, only a handful of wealthy young men had such capability, and all were married—except for someone from the Xi family.

But even if he was a playboy, there was no way he’d look at someone like Shen Qingci!

Shen Qingci glanced at her dim-witted younger brother, then at Shen Shirou.

Their eyes met, and on Shen Shirou’s pale face appeared a provocative smile. “Ah Lan, don’t talk about Qingci like that. She is your sister, after all.”

“Sibling?” Shen Lan frowned in disgust. “I’d rather not have a sister! Shirou, after she treats you like this, you still defend her! She marries an old man almost dead in the ground and dares to embarrass the Shen family publicly—shameless!”

“Stop it. We all bear some responsibility for how she’s turned out.”

Shen Shirou’s shoulders trembled as if about to cry, then she pressed a hand to her forehead, her face pale, on the verge of fainting.

Shen Lan grew impatient and tried to push Shen Qingci away.

Her hand rose—but Shen Qingci grabbed it and pulled it in front of her.

“What are you doing!” Shen Lan shouted, but froze when he met her clear eyes.

“I said, next time don’t let me see you wearing torn skinny jeans.”

“Who are you to tell me what to wear! I’ll wear them anyway!”

Snip-snap—

Shen Qingci narrowed her hand, holding scissors she had prepared.

When Shen Lan looked down, his long pants had been cut into boxer shorts.

Two slender, pale legs were exposed, hair fluttering in the cold wind.

“Ah!”

Shen Lan turned red, stunned for a few seconds before jumping to cover himself, completely forgetting to scold her, and ran to change pants.

Seeing this, Shen Shirou stopped pretending. Her eyes filled with jealousy, almost murderous, and she sneered, “Shen Qingci, that old man can’t satisfy you, huh? Don’t worry, little sister will find you some young ones.”

Shen Qingci twisted her wrist, ready to act.

Whoosh—

A black sedan suddenly stopped in front of them.

Shen Shirou’s gaze was drawn immediately.

The car, the license plate…

Her heart shook. She couldn’t believe it.

This legendary luxury car had come here!

Looking at the decoration on the hood—it was a wedding car.

So inside must be Shen Qingci’s old man?!

Shen Shirou gripped the wheelchair’s armrest tightly.

“Shen Qingci, still denying you didn’t find an old, ugly man!”

Xi Xingye stepped out of the car at that moment, and those words reached his ears.

Bang! The car door slammed.

Tall and imposing, he strode forward, looking down at Shen Shirou. “What nonsense are you talking? Me? Old and ugly?”