You look beautiful
Lixue stood in front of the large mirror in her room, her reflection staring back at her with a hollow intensity. The ivory wedding gown draped across the bed shimmered, its intricate lace and satin design pristine and untouched. It was beautiful—too beautiful for the life she had once lived. Her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted the fabric around her waist, but her mind was far from the delicate silk.
In her past life, this gown would have been the start of a cage. A gilded prison that locked her away, never to be seen or heard again. She had been forced into a life where her dreams were stolen, her art and her songs taken by her family and half-sister. But now, in this second chance, she had no intention of being the passive bride, no intention of succumbing to the same fate.
This time will be different.
The words rang through her mind like a mantra. She wouldn't be silenced again. She would take back everything that was hers. Her paintings, her voice, her freedom. She would no longer be the tool for others to use, the invisible daughter cast aside in favor of her half-sister's endless ambitions.
Yet, as she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the gown that should have been a symbol of her new beginning, she felt none of the pride or excitement that should come with a marriage. The woman she saw in the reflection was unfamiliar—her eyes empty, her shoulders tense, weighed down by the ghosts of her past life.
Her gaze hardened. No. I'm not her anymore.
The door creaked open, and her heart skipped a beat. Lixue didn't need to turn to know who it was. The soft sound of footsteps told her everything. Mo Ran. Even now, after everything, he was here. She braced herself, pushing the flood of thoughts aside. This wasn't the time for distractions. He was just another part of the plan. Another tool to use.
She'd marry him, yes, but it would not be a marriage of love. It would be the first step in taking back what was hers. Nothing more, nothing less.
But when he stepped into the room, his presence was different. He didn't carry the cold, distant air she remembered from her past life. No, something had shifted—something subtle, but unmistakable.
"Lixue," he said, his voice softer than she remembered, but still as deep and commanding as ever. "You're not ready yet?"
Lixue hesitated, her fingers stilling on the gown. There was no edge to his words, no indifference. The Mo Ran she knew would have simply told her to hurry up, would have given her an impatient glance before retreating to his study. But this Mo Ran—this man before her—was different. He didn't seem to be in a rush, didn't seem to view her as an inconvenience.
"I'll be ready soon," she replied, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of confusion stirring inside her. Her eyes briefly met his in the mirror, and she noticed that his expression had softened, his usual stoic mask replaced with something more… gentle.
It unsettled her.
She hadn't known how to deal with kindness before, let alone kindness from someone like him. Mo Ran had been a distant figure in her past life, a man bound to her only by contract. He had never once shown interest in her well-being. He had never once cared whether she was happy or miserable. But now, he was here, in her room, and there was a tenderness to his gaze that left her uncertain.
She quickly turned away, pretending to focus on the gown as she adjusted the hem. She didn't need to be distracted by these thoughts. This was just an act. This change in him meant nothing. She couldn't let herself forget that. She couldn't let herself feel anything for him.
But as she reached for the gown's train, she felt a presence behind her. He had crossed the room in the time it took her to blink, and before she could protest, his hands were at her back, adjusting the fabric with a grace she had never seen from him before.
"I'll help you," Mo Ran said quietly, his voice just above a whisper, as if not wanting to disturb the fragile quiet between them.
Lixue's breath hitched. His fingers were light, careful, as they pulled the straps into place, making sure the gown sat perfectly on her shoulders. His touch was unexpectedly tender, and the contrast to the Mo Ran she remembered left her disoriented. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had done something so gentle for her. Her stepmother, her half-sister, they had never cared. Her own father had turned a blind eye to everything that had happened to her.
But now, this man—this stranger who had once been her husband in her past life—was treating her with something she hadn't experienced in years: kindness.
Why is he being like this? Lixue's mind whirled with confusion. What does he want from me?
His fingers brushed against her skin as he adjusted the gown's bodice, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Lixue fought the instinct to recoil, her body tense with the unfamiliar sensation of being cared for, of being treated as more than a tool or an object.
"Is this better?. You look beautiful" Mo Ran asked, his voice low and calm. Using his free hand to raise her face so she could see her reflection on the mirror.
Lixue swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath, but the unexpected softness in his voice left her disarmed. She quickly nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She didn't want to thank him. Not when her thoughts were still clouded with suspicion. Not when she didn't understand what he was doing.
Mo Ran took a small step back, his hands falling to his sides. He glanced at her once more, his expression unreadable. "I'll be downstairs when you're ready."
Lixue didn't respond immediately, her thoughts still racing, still trying to piece together what had just happened. He didn't leave immediately; instead, he lingered by the door for a brief moment, his gaze heavy on her. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
The moment he was gone, Lixue exhaled, her shoulders sagging as the tension left her body. But her confusion remained. Why?
This was Mo Ran. The man who had barely spared her a glance in their first life, the man who had only ever been a husband in name. And yet, here he was, offering her the kind of care she never expected from him.
What is going on?
She shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her mind. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. What mattered was that she had a second chance. What mattered was that this time, she would take control of her life and her future.
As she adjusted the final layer of the gown, her eyes hardened with resolve. She would play her part—married to Mo Ran or not—but it would be on her terms, and no one would stop her.