Peng Zhiyue first met Yan Yunzhan at her wedding. He was just a little boy, barely reaching her waist.
By then, she had married into the Yan family and become its eldest young madam, the wife of Yan Yunlin.
She knew Yan Yunlin loved someone else.
To put it nicely, their marriage was a perfect match. To put it plainly, it was a union arranged between two families.
The Peng family needed to maintain its ties with another prominent clan, and she was the sacrifice.
So Peng Zhiyue had always known her place. She kept her head down and played the role of the Yan family's eldest young madam.
But then war broke out, and the wheels of fate began to turn.
One day, he pinned her down inside a tent, splitting her lip.
Peng Zhiyue couldn't believe he would treat her this way. “Have you gone mad?”
“You and he grew up together. If your father hadn't arranged your marriage to... to Yan Yunlin, you'd probably have married Hu Kang by now, wouldn't you?” Yan Yunzhan looked at her pleadingly. He spoke earnestly. “A Yue, your father's goal was to marry you into the Yan family anyway. I'm a Yan too. Marry me!”
“Smack!”
Yan Yunzhan's tears came even faster than the slap.
Seeing him cry did move Peng Zhiyue, if only a little. But she couldn't bear to hear him say such things.
“How dare you!”
“Yan Yunlin loved someone else. Back then, I was the one who held the rooster while you and I bowed to each other at the wedding. A Yue, I was the one who married you!”
“Shut up!” Peng Zhiyue slapped him again.
The handprints overlapped, leaving clear marks on his left cheek.
Yan Yunzhan smiled, his eyes filled with the certainty of a man who knew he would get what he wanted. “A Yue, I love you.”
