Chapter 3 — Wedding's Off, Take the Dowry Back!

I took a deep breath and spoke. My voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for every single person present to hear:

"The wedding is off."

The entire venue fell dead silent. In that deathly stillness, even the sound of traffic from the nearby street seemed to grind to a halt.

"Take the seventy-two dowry chests back to the Ngu estate the exact same way they came. Not a single item is to be missing."

A Du’s knees buckled, and she nearly fell to the ground. "Eldest Miss?"

"Didn't you hear me?" I looked at her. "Tell them to move them out."

A Du had been with me for eight years; she understood me completely. Turning around, she shouted at the stunned movers, "What are you standing there for? Move them! Pack them back up!"

The movers exchanged uneasy glances, not daring to budge. My voice turned ice-cold: "These belong to the Ngu family, not the Pho family. Are you moving them or not?"

The first chest was lifted. Then the second, the fifth... The dowry procession began to reverse its course, heading back down the road they had arrived on. The crowd of onlookers erupted:

"Oh my god! She called off the wedding!"

"Miss Ngu isn't getting married anymore!"

"This marriage was tied to projects worth hundreds of millions!"

"Five hours. Five whole hours! Who on earth could endure that?"

"There's going to be a real show to watch now..."

Just as the last few dowry chests were being lifted, the hotel's main entrance swung open. The heavy glass double doors were pushed open violently from the inside, their hinges letting out a harsh, grating screech. Tac Du Pho stood in the doorway. He wore a custom-tailored black suit, a handcrafted leather belt cinching his waist, his tall stature as elegant as fine jade. He truly possessed a handsome face, and his entire bearing radiated the authority of someone long accustomed to sitting at the top. At this moment, his expression was a sight to behold. He probably had never expected that I would actually dare to call off the wedding so publicly. His gaze swept over the retreating dowry procession, his brow furrowing deeply as he looked at me.

"Thanh Nghien Ngu, you've lost your mind."

Standing beside the bridal car, the sweat stains on my wedding dress shimmered faintly under the harsh sunlight. I gave him a single, cool look. Then, I turned on my heel and walked toward the Ngu family's private car parked by the roadside. I turned my back on him, on the hotel, and on all the onlookers crowding around.

"Miss Ngu! President Pho is calling you!" The wedding coordinator in the background was practically jumping up and down with anxiety.

I didn't stop. A Du supported my arm; her hand was trembling, but her steps kept perfect pace with mine. Behind me, Tac Du Pho's voice chased after us, laced with fury and disbelief:

"Thanh Nghien Ngu, stop right there! The marriage between our two families was set in stone. You think you can just call it off whenever you please? Who do you think you are?"

I stopped. Not because of his words, but because I had just remembered something. I turned around and looked at him from across half the plaza. He stood in front of the hotel entrance, the wide-open doors behind him revealing a faint glimpse of Vu Bach Lam. She was hiding behind a pillar, peeking out, her expression shifting from shock to sheer panic. I looked at Tac Du Pho and suddenly smiled.

"President Pho, five hours."

I raised three fingers.

"You left me out here on this plaza, in front of the entirety of Hu City, baking in the sun for five whole hours. You stayed inside with another woman, enjoying the air conditioning and sipping coffee, leaving me to suffocate in the car, not even daring to take a single sip of water. And yet, you say I'm an eyesore to you?"

I lowered my hand.

"Fine. I won't offend your eyes ever again."

With that, I stepped into the car. The moment the door clicked shut, the entire street erupted into a frenzy, punctuated by Tac Du Pho’s low, furious roar:

"Thanh Nghien Ngu!"

The car pulled away. The tires rolled over the asphalt, grinding over the threshold that symbolized the pride of the Pho family outside the hotel. I pulled a wet wipe from my bag and handed it to A Du to wipe her sweat.

"Once we return, take a full inventory of the dowry. Not a single piece must be lost. After that, send an email on my behalf, broadcasting it across all channels."

"What should it say?" A Du asked.

"The Ngu Corporation is terminating all collaborations with the Pho Group."

"Furthermore, in the name of the Nghien Hop Corporation, suspend all credit lines currently extended to the Pho Group."

As the car turned into the side gate of the ancestral Ngu estate, A Du sat beside me, looking as if she wanted to say something several times but hesitated. I didn’t give her the chance to speak. Before stepping out of the vehicle, I calmly instructed her:

"Within half an hour, send all details of our partnerships with the Pho Group and Nghien Hop's credit documents to my email. Instruct the legal department to draft the termination letters and have them delivered to the Pho headquarters before the end of the business day. As for the public, align our statement: the wedding is called off, and the reasons will not be discussed."

A Du nodded vigorously, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her phone. She had been with me for eight years, right from the founding days of Nghien Hop. She had seen me cut a decisive, merciless path through the capital markets, just as she had seen me play the part of a gentle, submissive heiress. She knew all too well that once I spoke, there was never any room for negotiation. The ancestral home was quiet; my father was busy tending to business in his study, still unaware of the storm that had just broken outside. I didn't go to see him. Instead, I returned straight to my courtyard, stripped off the sweat-soaked wedding dress, and washed my face with cold water.