She casually said, "Well, then, why don't you marry me?" It was only a joke.
He replied without expression, "All right."
Everyone in the martial world knew that the renowned healer Yan Qingyan had two ironclad rules: he would save anyone he met, as long as they paid five hundred; and he always kept his promises, never taking back a word, even at the cost of his life.
So she bet that he wouldn't go back on his word, and she won.
But his cousin was suffering from a deadly cold poison, with her life hanging by a thread. At last, she understood that it was his words, "I need you," that had made him agree.
She married him anyway, asking for only one thing: no banquet, no telling anyone. As long as it was you, that was enough.
A pair of red wedding candles, not a single guest. She cured his cousin, left behind a divorce letter, and disappeared from the martial world. The Chancellor's residence gained a quiet Fifth Miss, while Young Master Tang was no more.
Until the man whom all the capital called the "Heartless Heir" knelt outside the residence gates.
"I promised I wouldn't abandon you. So I won't stay away."
