The red candles were burning high, reflecting the joy in the room, but they could not illuminate the coldness in Su Wan's heart.
The heavy phoenix crown made her slender neck hurt, and under the red wedding dress, the whiplash left by yesterday's family was still aching. In order to force her to marry on her sister's behalf, her stepmother ordered people to beat her to pieces, while her father watched coldly: "Wan'er, we can't afford to offend the Murong family. If you don't marry, the Su family will be finished."
The hijab was suddenly lifted, and the candlelight was dazzling, and Murong Ting's cold face came into view.
"Remember your identity, Su Wan." There was ice in his voice, "You are just a substitute for Qingya during her serious illness, a tool for happiness. Never dream of things that don't belong to you."
He pinched her chin roughly, with such force that it almost crushed the bones: "Qingya is kind and weak. Unlike you, the Su family will do anything underhanded in order to cling to the powerful."
