People often need to go through certain experiences to truly grasp the essence of life. When Xin An saw the vivid red surroundings and heard the lively wedding melodies, she instinctively covered her mouth, stifling a trembling cry that threatened to escape her throat.
She remembered vividly—Tang Rong had literally enraged her to death. In her final moments, she had regretted not dragging him down with her. So how was she back in a bridal sedan?
“The bride from the Xin family has arrived.”
“The bride from the Tao family has also arrived.”
The cheerful chatter and teasing voices pierced through the sedan, assaulting her already overwhelmed mind. Suddenly, the sedan came to a stop, and the lively voice of the matchmaker resounded, “Please, eldest young master, kick the sedan door.”
A wave of memories surged, vivid and relentless. This was the day she had married into the Tang family. Back then, she had come with a heart full of love, only to leave covered in shame. Past events flashed through her mind like a spinning lantern. She couldn’t hear the commotion outside, nor could she feel the sedan door being kicked open. She didn’t even see the hand extended to help her out.
She had returned—to the day she married Tang Rong.
But how could she marry him again?
Tang Rong was the meticulously nurtured son of the Marquis of Weiyuan’s household after they abandoned martial pursuits for literary refinement. The world praised him as disciplined, self-restrained, noble, and untainted by worldly matters—a man as pure as the bright moon in the sky. She had fallen for him at first sight. Later, when the Tang family proposed marriage, she had been overjoyed.
After marriage, she sympathized with his motherless childhood and raged at the unfair treatment he received from his stepmother. Whatever he wanted, she fought for it on his behalf.
All that talk of self-restraint and purity? It was nothing more than him building a reputation off her efforts.
She had wasted her life on Tang Rong, only to end up with a reputation as a scheming, petty, and harsh woman.
The bride’s delay in leaving the sedan prompted the matchmaker to speak more auspicious words. Amid the laughter, Xin An snapped back to reality and slowly raised her hand, allowing Tang Rong to help her out. The sedan had already arrived at the Tang family’s gates. This marriage was something she could neither escape nor afford to avoid.
Opposite her sedan was another bridal sedan. Tang Rong, the legitimate eldest son, and Tang Mo, the second son from the stepmother, were getting married on the same day. Neither brother seemed particularly joyful as they exchanged polite nods before heading inside.
Time overlapped eerily with her past life as Xin An performed the wedding rites mechanically. Soon after, she was escorted by the matchmaker and a group of maids and matrons to the inner courtyard.
The lady of the Marquis of Weiyuan’s household, Wang She, was a calculating and shrewd woman. She didn’t like her son marrying Tao Yiran, a woman known only for her arts and melancholic tunes. Using the excuse that Tang Mo’s courtyard had poor lighting, she swapped the courtyards to switch the brides.
In her previous life,Xin An had caught wind of this plot and spoken up at the critical moment, ensuring her rightful place as Tang Rong’s wife. She had spoken up at the crossroads and married Tang Rong successfully. Today, however, she walked straight in without hesitation.
In truth, Tang Mo hadn’t liked her in her previous life either. Like his mother, he was fiercely ambitious, constantly clashing with Xin An due to their conflicting interests. Despite their mutual disdain, Xin An had envied Tang Mo’s wife, Tao Yiran. Tang Mo fought for what he wanted, never letting Tao Yiran worry about a thing.
It felt like a cruel joke from the heavens.Tao Yiran, famed for her beauty and talent, shared Tang Rong’s aloofness and detested Tang Mo’s worldly pragmatism. She couldn’t stand Tang Mo’s cunning nature and often handed back what he had fought so hard to claim. Every time this happened, Tang Mo was furious.
Sitting on the edge of the bridal bed, Xin An tuned out the chatter around her. Alone under the bridal veil, she finally had a moment to process everything. The situation was surreal, like a vivid dream. And yet, it felt undeniably real.
She didn’t regret her sacrifices for Tang Rong. After all, she had given willingly. But Tang Rong’s cold-heartedness in the end was unforgivable.
Feeling the delicate texture beneath her fingers, she looked down at her pale, smooth hands and felt a surge of joy. What woman, after experiencing the decay of age, could refuse returning to her youthful seventeen-year-old self?
She had truly returned.
After what felt like an eternity, a pair of black boots entered her limited field of view beneath the veil. When it was lifted, revealing Tang Mo’s face, she was neither surprised nor flustered. It was her pretense of nervousness that came across as amusingly awkward.
Tang Mo’s sharp gaze betrayed his disdain. He scoffed inwardly. This woman had been a thorn in his side since she married into the Tang family, always treating him as if he were a thief. If it weren’t for her constant meddling, his path would have been smooth, and he would have achieved greatness!
His silence and piercing stare made Xin An smirk knowingly. She tested the waters. “You came back too?”
“Mm.”
Xin An stood up, yanked off her bridal veil, and tossed it aside with a derisive chuckle. In their previous life, they had been uncle and niece-in-law—antagonistic to the bitter end. Now, fate had bound them as husband and wife, each privy to the other’s past. Heaven was playing a colossal joke.
“And Tang Rong?” she probed.
“He didn’t,” Tang Mo confirmed.
Xin An frowned slightly. “By now, he should’ve realized the bride was switched. Why hasn’t he come to rectify this?”
Tang Mo sneered. “The old man sees value in the Xin family. The Tao family, however, sees no such advantage. Between you, the daughter of a salt merchant, and a fourth-rank official’s daughter, who do you think they’d prefer? They’d seize the opportunity to make this marriage final and claim they were too drunk to notice.”
“Convenient excuse,” Xin An muttered wryly. “You’re quite the strategist, coming up with excuses for him. Why don’t you go claim her? You might still make it in time.”
She began tidying the bridal bed, her tone biting. Tang Mo, annoyed, retorted, “The man you devoted your life to is probably tangled in another woman’s arms right now. Doesn’t that sting? Aren’t you going to raise a fuss?”
“And you?” she shot back. “The woman you treasured most is likely moaning under another man. Aren’t you the same as a cuckolded fool?”
Tang Mo’s anger flared. He grabbed her wrist and growled, “Say another word, and I’ll kill you right now and claim you couldn’t bear the shame.”
“Oh? And what excuse will you use? ‘Too drunk to remember anything’?” Xin An quipped with a smirk, her expression defiant.
For a moment, Tang Mo faltered, entranced by her beauty. It struck him—how had he never noticed that this woman, once an irritating shrew, possessed the allure of a femme fatale?
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