Chapter 4 — The Wedding That Became a Goodbye

Your father just delivered a solid slap to Lu Huai Chu’s face, and the security guards had to step in and pull them apart. Mother Lam’s voice carried a distinct trace of maternal pride as she recounted the scene. Your father practiced martial arts when he was young, so that single strike alone should be enough to swell the man’s face for at least three full days.

Lam Tran let out a sudden, bright bark of laughter.

But Tran Tran, Mother Lam’s tone abruptly dropped, softening with sudden concern, are you truly alright? If you feel sad or aggrieved, just let it out and cry. Your mother promises she will not laugh at you.

Lam Tran stood at the far end of the quiet hotel corridor, gazing out at the magnificent fountain shimmering in the courtyard. The soaring columns of water glistened like scattered gold dust under the slanting rays of the setting sun.

Mother, I really am completely fine, she replied, realizing as she spoke that the words were entirely true. The truth is, I am simply starving. I woke up at five o’clock this morning just to begin the elaborate makeup process, and I have not even had a single sip of water since.

Oh, you stubborn child! Mother Lam scolded, her voice teetering between exasperation and deep pity. Where are you right now? Let your mother bring you something to eat immediately.

There is no need for that at all, Mother. I am heading out to grab a bite with some friends, Lam Tran soothed. Please take Father and go on home. We can talk tonight when I get back.

The moment she ended the call, Lam Tran lowered her gaze to inspect the magnificent wedding gown she was still wearing. It was the crowning achievement of two months of relentless hunting and fitting—an exquisite, bespoke Italian design where every single intricate lace blossom had been painstakingly embroidered by hand, stitch by meticulous stitch. She had originally envisioned wearing it to glide down the aisle toward her new life; instead, she was now wearing it to march away from a catastrophic train wreck. She opened a food delivery application on her phone, quickly located the nearest hotpot restaurant, and dropped the location pin straight into her group chat. I am changing right now, you guys head over to the hotpot place and grab a table first. I want the absolute spiciest broth they have. After a brief second of contemplation, she tapped out another message: Oh, by the way, please bring me a casual change of clothes, unless you expect me to sit there eating hotpot in a full wedding dress. Chu Miao, her ride-or-die best friend, replied instantly without missing a beat: Wear it! Why on earth would you change out of it? Rocking a wedding dress to a hotpot feast is the coolest thing ever! And after we eat, we are going out to party! Another friend in the circle, Tran Tranh, chimed in right after: I am already on my way, and I did bring a t-shirt and jeans just in case, but I have to agree with Miao Miao—you should definitely keep the dress on to celebrate this liberation. A triumphant curve touched the corners of Lam Tran’s lips as her fingers flew across the glass screen: Deal, it is settled then. I am keeping it on. After all, this dress cost a hundred and fifty thousand, leaving it in the closet to gather dust after just one wear would be an absolute waste of money. She kicked off her uncomfortable bridal shoes, slipped into the pair of flat sneakers she had thoughtfully brought along, and gathered the heavy, cascading train of the gown, looping and tying it securely around her waist to reveal her slender calves. Scooping up her discarded shoes, she strode purposefully toward the parking garage. As she passed the main hotel reception desk, the young desk clerk recognized her instantly, her jaw dropping open into a comical, perfect circle. Lam Tran offered her a bright, conspiratorial wink. The wedding has been officially canceled, but the dress must still be worn, otherwise, it is a complete waste. The receptionist was left speechless for several long moments before she finally managed to gasp out, Miss, you are insanely cool.

Thank you so much, Lam Tran laughed, your makeup looks lovely today, by the way.

She pushed open the glass doors and walked out into the parking lot, unlocked her pristine white Porsche, unceremoniously bundled the voluminous white tulle of the wedding dress into the passenger seat, and turned the ignition. Just as the vehicle smoothly rolled away from the curb, her phone buzzed again within her palm. She glanced down at the screen; it was an unfamiliar number. After a moment of hesitation, she pressed the answer button.

Hello?

Am I speaking with Miss Lam Tran? My name is Pham Do, an attorney from the Heng Thai law firm. I have been retained by Mr. Lu Huai Chu to reach out and discuss certain matters pertaining to the events that transpired at today’s wedding ceremony.

Lam Tran arched a brow, pulling her car gently over to the side of the road to park. Lu Huai Chu has already hired a lawyer? Is he planning to sue me? On the other end of the line, there was a brief, fractional pause before the voice returned: Not at all. Mr. Lu’s primary wish is to reach a private settlement, but we first need to verify the exact status and authenticity of the evidentiary materials currently in your possession.

Then you can pass this message directly along to him: the evidence is entirely intact and untouched—original video footage, screenshot records of his messages, and the hotel room reservation logs, not a single piece is missing. If he refuses to accept reality, tell him I am more than happy to meet him in court. After all, I have plenty of time and more than enough financial resources to drag this lawsuit out until he is completely bankrupt.

Pham Do seemed to let out a low, quiet chuckle at her words, a sound so subtle and muted that it barely registered, yet Lam Tran caught it clearly.