Zihan's eyes narrowed. Inside, arranged almost artistically, lay gleaming razor blades, long needles, and a sharp kitchen knife, each tied with ribbons, nestled among layers of pink tissue paper as though they were precious ornaments. The grotesque beauty of the display made the silence in the room feel even sharper.
His brow furrowed, though his expression remained controlled. "Was there a message?"
"Yes, sir." The guard pulled out a folded, heart-shaped card, its edges dusted with glitter. He opened it, cleared his throat, and read aloud:
"A bride dressed in white looks most beautiful when stained red. Each blade here waits to carve your laughter into silence. Just as married couples become one, you shall bleed for his sins." The indication of the words made it very clear that the message was really for his future wife.
The guard's voice faltered on the last words, the menace in them heavy even as ink on paper.
Zihan leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, his fingers brushing his lips in thought. His calmness was unnerving, almost more terrifying than rage. A low, cold chuckle escaped him.
"…So they dare." His eyes flickered like steel catching light, lethal and sharp. "Burn the box. Triple the patrols inside and outside the villa. If even a shadow lingers near her, I want it erased before it breathes."
The guard bowed, clutching the cursed gift as if it burned his palms.
"And," Zihan added, his tone flat but lethal, "trace the sender. If they think they can use Guo Min to get to me… then they've signed their death warrant."
As the guard left, the room fell into silence once more. Zihan stood, straightened his cuffs, and walked toward the closed bedroom door where Guo Min rested, blissfully unaware. His expression softened, just for a second, before freezing over again, cold and unreadable.
"They want blood," Zihan murmured to himself, voice like a blade dragged across stone. "I'll give them theirs."
That night, after making a string of curt but decisive phone calls, he sat by the bedside, his gaze fixed on Guo Min's sleeping face. The rise and fall of her chest, the faint furrow of her brow when she dreamed, the soft curve of her lips, he let himself watch in silence. For all the chaos closing in, she remained his one fragile calm. Only when the clock struck past midnight did he finally slide into bed, pulling her closer before surrendering to sleep.
---
The next morning.
Guo Min stretched lazily across the sheets, reaching for warmth that wasn't there. Her hand fell onto the cool linen instead. She sat up, blinking blearily at the empty side of the bed, her lips curling into a faint pout. As she moved toward the vanity, her eyes caught a sticky note left behind.
She plucked it with two fingers and read the neat, almost careless scrawl: In boxing practice with Xiang and Yufan.
A small sigh escaped her, though her lips twitched upward despite herself. "Always so brief… couldn't even add a heart?" she muttered, pouting but almost smiling. "I'd love to actually see you doing that for once."
Tossing the note onto the vanity, she padded into the bathroom to freshen up. Moments later, dressed in a soft jacket and joggers, her hair tied up carelessly, she slipped on her home slippers and headed downstairs. The quiet aroma of breakfast greeted her, the maids having already laid out the morning spread.
Just as she was about to enjoy a rare peaceful meal, the villa's doors flew open.
"Good morning, little bride!"
The twin voices of Wang Ruoxi and Wu Lixi rang through the hall like bells, too loud for the hour. They tumbled inside with mischievous grins, their energy bouncing off the walls.
Guo Min, unimpressed, glanced at them flatly before turning her back and making for the dining table. "So you two finally decided to grace me with your presence today. Unfortunately for you, I won't be attending to your nonsense." She sat down and reached for her chopsticks.
Ruoxi and Lixi exchanged guilty looks before trailing meekly after her, like scolded children following their parent.
"Sorry, Min, our schedules were really tight," Ruoxi began, scratching her head.
"Yeah, the week was just… hectic," Lixi added quickly, her voice soft, almost apologetic.
Guo Min popped a dumpling into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed before arching a brow. Her voice dripped with cool sarcasm. "So what happens if your schedules are tight on my wedding day too? You won't bother showing up?"
Both girls immediately shot upright, panicked.
"No way! Never gonna happen!" Ruoxi waved her hands frantically.
"Absolutely not. Don't even joke about that!" Lixi added, shaking her head vehemently.
"Mm." Guo Min rolled her eyes and reached for another dumpling. "Words and actions are two very different things."
The maids discreetly set extra bowls and tea cups for the guests.
"So," she said at last, her tone sharp but softened by curiosity. "Why are you two really here?"
Ruoxi, unable to contain herself, shot to her feet, nearly knocking over her chair. "Because we came to give you an apology gift!"
"And that gift is…" Lixi leaned in, trying to add suspense, "…a bachelorette party!"
The two of them shouted the last words together, clapping their hands and bouncing with excitement like schoolgirls.
Guo Min froze mid-bite, staring at them as though they'd just grown horns. She set her chopsticks down and gave them both a deadpan look. "Are you two serious right now? This isn't the US. Since when is that part of our culture?"
"Who cares about culture?" Ruoxi shot back with a grin, undeterred. "We don't follow the rules anyway."
Lixi nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling. "Exactly! Life's short. It's all about living it to the fullest. Rules were made to be broken."
Guo Min leaned back in her chair, lips pressed into a line, watching the pair of them chatter like they were plotting a revolution. Finally, she exhaled through her nose, half-amused, half-annoyed. "You two… are a menace."
But the corners of her lips betrayed her, twitching upward despite her best efforts.
"Bachelorette?"
The single word cut through the room, deep and calm, carrying that quiet authority only one man possessed. The three women froze before turning their heads toward the doorway. Zihan stood there, composed as ever, his presence filling the room. Behind him, Yufan followed, his expression carefully shuttered.
"Nothing, Zihan, just girl talk." Guo Min quickly covered, forcing a smile as her eyes flicked toward Yufan.
Zihan's gaze lingered on her for a beat before sliding to the two women at the table. His voice was steady, unyielding. "He's here for business. Enjoy your time with your friends, we'll discuss later." Without waiting for a reply, he turned, and Yufan fell into step beside him as they walked up the stairs toward his study.
The air shifted in their absence. Guo Min's brows knitted as she stood abruptly. "Is Yufan okay? He completely ignored us." Her voice carried more concern than annoyance.
She raised her voice toward the stairs. "Yufan? Are you still hung up on our last conversation?"
There was a long pause before Yufan finally turned back, forcing a small, tight smile. "No, it's nothing. I was just… lost in thought. Didn't notice you three." His words came out smooth enough, but his eyes told another story.
He gave Ruoxi a quick wave, then flicked a glance at Lixi. Too quick. Deliberately brief. He pulled away almost as soon as their eyes met, the avoidance so sharp it left the air prickling with tension.
Guo Min caught it instantly, though she kept her expression neutral. Inside, however, unease began to coil, tightening like a string pulled taut. Across the table, Lixi shifted in her seat, adjusting her bangs with the tip of her finger, as if trying to hide behind the smallest of gestures.
And then, fate dealt its cruel hand.
The maids glided in with trays, placing glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice before them. The sharp citrus tang cut through the air, bright and bitter. Lixi stiffened at once. Her hand flew to her mouth, and before anyone could ask, she bolted up, rushing toward the bathroom. The sound of retching echoed faintly down the hall.
A stunned silence hung in the room.
Yufan's expression didn't shift an inch. His face was a mask, rigid, unreadable, every muscle trained to stillness. Years of discipline, of command, of hiding every crack. Probably his years of being with the ice prince, he's been infected.
But his mind was chaos.