Chapter Seventy-Three: The Eerie Wedding

As soon as He Zheyu stepped out of the car, the reporters rushed toward him in a swarm, simultaneously thrusting their microphones at his mouth and bombarding him with questions. Yet, not a single question made sense to He Zheyu. Han Mo soothed the crowd, saying, "Please ask your questions one at a time. Mr. He will answer them all."

A female reporter immediately asked, "Mr. He, are you dissatisfied with Miss Zhao? Holding a wedding in a place like this seems rather..."

He Zheyu, completely unruffled, replied, "I have no dissatisfaction with my wife. It’s just that marriage is a momentous occasion, and parents must be present. My wife's parents are here, but my mother has already found her eternal rest in this place. Since she cannot come to my wedding, I, as her son, have come to where she sleeps, so that she may witness my moment of happiness. We are only here to pay our respects to her first; once we finish, we will go straight to the Junhao Hotel, where the banquet is already arranged."

A male reporter followed up, "Aren't you worried that your actions might upset the bride's family?"

This time, He Zheyu said nothing. Instead, he signaled Han Mo to bring Zhao Yiya, who still stood beside the wedding car, over to him. Zhao Yiya’s legs were weak, and as she walked forward, she gripped Han Mo tightly, afraid she might stumble with a single misstep. When she reached He Zheyu’s side, He Zheyu pretended to be affectionate, drawing her into his arms. A reporter thrust a microphone at Zhao Yiya and asked, "Miss Zhao, are you unhappy with Mr. He’s decision?"

After a few seconds to compose herself, Zhao Yiya gathered her thoughts, suppressed her unease, and replied calmly, "This was something Zheyu and I discussed in advance. As a daughter-in-law, it's perfectly normal to pay respects to my mother-in-law first. Respecting one's elders is the foundation of all virtue, and I am proud to have such a husband." As she finished, she kissed He Zheyu on the lips.

Once the guests present understood the intention behind He Zheyu’s actions, they all praised him as a devoted son, and their doubts were at last dispelled.

Back at the Junhao Hotel, He Xuan Yi, Zhao Xu’er, Zhao Guangxiong, and Mrs. Zhao watched the news report on television, their faces dark with displeasure.

Zhao Guangxiong spoke first, "So this is why he was in such a hurry to marry Yiya! He was waiting for us to fall into this trap! Xuan Yi, how am I supposed to face our relatives and friends after this?"

He Xuan Yi, growing impatient, replied, "How can you blame me for how things have turned out? I told you to quietly send that girl away. You agreed, but what did you do? You drove her family to suicide by jumping off a building, and she herself jumped into the river. And now, you have the nerve to question me!"

Zhao Guangxiong had no rebuttal and could only reply feebly, "So what do we do now?"

"What do we do? What can we do? We just have to entertain the guests as we should. We can't lose our tempers; we need to greet everyone with a smile. He’s being hailed as a model son now," He Xuan Yi said sarcastically.

Zhao Xu’er protested, "So we're just supposed to swallow this humiliation?"

"It's your own fault for telling your niece about that woman having Zheyu’s child. Would things have come to this if you hadn’t meddled?" He Xuan Yi’s tone was full of reproach, and Zhao Xu’er dared say no more.

By the time all the guests arrived at the Junhao Hotel, it was already one in the afternoon. Naturally, the wedding ceremony was no longer held. He Zheyu did not bring Zhao Yiya around to thank the guests; instead, He Xuan Yi, Zhao Xu’er, Zhao Guangxiong, and Mrs. Zhao made the rounds to express gratitude. During the banquet, there were inevitably a few sarcastic remarks: "Brother Zhao, you really have a generous heart, agreeing to such a wedding arrangement. If it were us, we wouldn’t have been so magnanimous." Others chimed in, "Indeed, indeed. Madam He is truly remarkable. Zheyu treated you this way, yet you didn’t get angry. That’s real composure."

What could the four of them do? Things had come to this point; all they could do was grit their teeth and endure, swallowing their bitterness in silence.