The wedding day came crashing in like a pile of bricks, and LiangLin soon found himself walking those terrible stone steps up to the Imperial Hall, accompanying Lan QingYu as the green snake carried the tray of tea upon his slender arms with YaYun.
The emperor had insisted on sharing the load with his mate.
QingYu's movements were graceful, his wedding hanfu tight in all the right places - showcasing his slender waist and long limbs.
QingYu scintillated like the most exquisite jewel under the gentle autumn sun. The petals rained upon his path, painting the white stone in soft hues of pink. The light wind fluttered by, sending a few loose strands of hair to frame his blushing cheeks. QingYu looked perfect - and what LiangLin could only describe as happy.
Happiness looked so utterly simple, so why was it so difficult to grasp?