Feeling the coolness of her palm, Oswald gently patted Laila's hand in reassurance. "Don't worry. Grandpa's right here."
So what if it was the beginning? So what if it was an end? Her grandfather would always be behind her. The Moran family would always be her strongest support. What was there to fear?
Laila sniffled and gave a soft hum in response. She didn't dare speak—afraid that the moment she opened her mouth, her voice would crack and betray the emotions surging in her chest.
Finally, someone came to inform them: the ceremony was about to begin.
The familiar Wedding March began to play.
Laila looked at her grandfather.
Oswald held her hand and led her down the red carpet toward the altar.
At first, Laila kept her eyes on the ground, terrified that her heels might slip on the scattered rose petals or that something else might go wrong—like tripping on this most important day and becoming the laughingstock of the decade.
Only when she stepped into the chapel did she begin to glance around through the delicate lace of her veil.
The veil was beautiful—its intricate embroidery alone made it worthy of being preserved in a glass case as a work of art. But it did make it hard to see clearly.
Even so, through its fine patterns, Laila caught sight of something completely unexpected.
On either side of the red carpet, the pews were filled with familiar faces. One side was occupied by business tycoons—her grandfather and mother's longtime partners and associates. The other side was a gathering of Hollywood's brightest stars, as well as directors, producers, high-level staff from her film company, and her own personal team.
The guest list alone showed just how much thought Roy had put into this. He had to know her world intimately to invite the right people—not just the famous ones, but the meaningful ones.
And that still wasn't all.
What truly caught Laila's breath were the actors who had appeared in her movies, now dressed in the costumes of those roles. Some reprised their original characters, while others cosplayed characters from her other films.
Only then did she realize that the entire interior of the chapel had been transformed. Banners and posters—all from her films—lined the walls.
If it weren't for the image of Christ still standing at the center, she would've thought she had stepped into a themed amusement park dedicated to her work.
That feeling—of being known, being cherished, and being placed at the very center of someone's heart—was beyond wonderful. Film was her life's calling, the road she had chosen to walk farther than anything else. And Roy… he had taken the most cherished parts of that journey and laid them bare for the world to see.
The red carpet beneath her feet felt like a tunnel through time, carrying her step by step from the past toward a future full of hope. And at the end of that future stood a man in a black tuxedo, staring at her with such intensity that it felt like his gaze alone could set her on fire.
Laila couldn't remember how she made it to the altar, or how Oswald placed her hand into Roy's. All she could remember was his heartfelt "I do," and her own firm, trembling reply: "I do."
When Roy lifted her exquisite veil amid the cheers and whistles, when his eyes finally met the blue ones he had dreamed of for so long, the world seemed to fall silent. The guests disappeared. The sounds faded away. All that remained in the entire world were two people, their gazes locked together.
It was a wedding to remember.
If any reporters had managed to sneak in, they would've gone absolutely wild. The business elite alone was dazzling—but the Hollywood A-listers made it feel less like a wedding and more like an awards ceremony.
To fly everyone in, the Moran family had dispatched every private jet they had. And even then, it was only just enough—some guests had used their own jets.
What left everyone most stunned, though, were the film posters—lined up one by one like a timeline. It was easy to forget just how many iconic, era-defining films Laila had created in the past twelve years… until you saw them all in one place.
Roy had even recreated props and sets from her films—not just inside the chapel, but outside as well. Had Laila looked out the window, she would've seen massive hot air balloons floating in the sky, each printed with one of her movie posters.
He knew how deeply she loved cinema. So on the day they pledged their lives to each other, he brought those memories to life. He wanted her to know that his love for her ran even deeper than her love for movies.
And Laila was deeply moved.
But what Roy didn't know was that from the moment she laid eyes on him, she hadn't seen anything else.
She couldn't even remember how the wedding ended. The whole thing felt like a dream. It wasn't until later—through stories told by others and the photos and videos taken—that she learned the details.
In simple terms, it was a movie-themed wedding. Unique, thoughtful, and deeply personal. Even the glasses guests used to toast were replicas from scenes in her films.
But that wasn't the end.
That evening, Laila had a second wedding.
That's right—it was a traditional Eastern-style wedding!
When she was dressed in a lavish fengguan xiapei (phoenix crown and embroidered red robe), her hair styled in the intricate bun of an Eastern bride, she turned and was shocked to find Roy dressed in a matching red groom's robe!
"When did you order this outfit?" she asked, still in a daze as she was led into the wedding hall. She wasn't wearing a red veil, so she could clearly see his expression.
Roy smiled and lowered his voice. "I asked Ms. Yao to help me order it. Not bad, right?"
Laila looked him up and down. The bright red looked festive, and the outfit was undeniably traditional. But… on Roy's pure Western face, it looked a little… off.
Not ugly. Not bad. Just… jarringly out of place.
But seeing how earnestly he wore it, she decided to gift him a kind lie.
"You look amazing. Just like a real Eastern groom!"
And sure enough, Roy beamed with happiness.
The same guests from the church ceremony joined in the fun, many of them donning Tang suits specially prepared by Roy.
When Laila saw all those business moguls and Hollywood celebrities decked out in Tang suits, she nearly burst out laughing.
She knew Roy had done all this for her. But still—a room full of blond-haired, blue-eyed guests in traditional Chinese attire… it was a lot to take in.
After the three bows and the symbolic wedding chamber ritual, the wedding finally came to an end.
Only then did Laila have a moment to scoop up little Eli—dressed in a tiny Tang suit of his own. He had just completed an important mission in the Eastern wedding tradition: rolling on the marital bed to bless the couple with fertility.
She had no idea where Roy had learned about that custom, but somehow, he had even remembered to put his son in the starring role.