That dazzling diamond ring was like a star cast into a calm lake of the heart—what it stirred was not a fleeting ripple, but a lasting, ever-expanding halo of happiness.
From then on, Zong Yi's middle finger carried a weight of sweet heaviness, complementing the simple ring on her ring finger, constantly reminding her that the bond between her and Yan Hanxie had moved from its initial flutter, testing, and promise, to a more solemn step—one that would soon be recognized by law and society.
After the proposal, their daily life seemed to be coated with an even softer, honey-colored glow.
In the villa, the carefully arranged string lights and rose petals had long been tidied away by Aunt Zhou, yet the air still seemed to carry traces of that night's romance and solemnity.
When Yan Hanxie looked at Zong Yi, beyond her usual gentleness and possessiveness, there was now an added sense of fulfillment—as if everything had settled into place—and a faint, barely noticeable anticipation for the future.
They began to discuss "the future" in concrete terms.
Not vague talk, but detailed plans—about marriage, about family, about the longer road of life ahead.
"The wedding," Yan Hanxie said one evening, leaning against the headboard with a tablet in hand displaying minimalist wedding venue images, "do you want to have one? Or should we do a destination wedding?"
Zong Yi was leaning against her shoulder, flipping through a financial magazine. Hearing this, she looked up at the images on the screen.
Most of the venues were on scenic islands or in secluded forest castles—beautiful, but… somehow lacking something uniquely theirs.
"Do we have to?" Zong Yi asked. She instinctively felt distant from grand ceremonies. "I think… what we have now is already very good."
She lightly shook her hand, the diamond ring and simple band catching the light.
Yan Hanxie turned her head to look at her, gently tapping the tip of her nose with her finger. "I know you don't like things too lively. But I want to give you a ceremony—one that belongs only to us. Simple, but meaningful enough. Not for others to see, but as a… memory for us."
Her voice was soft, but her gaze was serious. Zong Yi could tell that this mattered to her.
Perhaps because her parents had passed away early and never witnessed her wedding.
Or perhaps because she wanted to use this to firmly imprint the identity of "Yan Hanxie's wife" into Zong Yi's life—and to declare their union to the world.
"Then… keep it simple," Zong Yi compromised, resting her head back on Yan Hanxie's shoulder. "Not too many people, no complicated formalities."
"Alright." Yan Hanxie smiled, swiping on the tablet and quickly pulling up another page—a high-end private venue in the city known for its exclusivity and custom services. "What about here? There's a beautiful glass greenhouse. We can invite only the closest people. We'll design the ceremony ourselves—say whatever we want, and skip whatever we don't."
Zong Yi looked at the image of the glass space, surrounded by greenery and flowers, filled with sunlight, and nodded. "This is nice."
And so, the wedding preparations began—extremely efficient and low-key.
Yan Hanxie took full responsibility for contacting the venue and setting the overall arrangement, defining the style as "minimalist, natural, sincere."
She only invited Aunt Ji Ying as the representative from her side of the family (as for Zong Yi's parents, she planned to personally accompany Zong Yi back to explain things), along with a small number of close friends and colleagues who truly understood or had supported their relationship.
The guest list was astonishingly short.
As for the wedding process, it was simplified to the extreme—no gate-crashing games, no complicated tea ceremonies, no lengthy speeches.
The plan only included a simple exchange of rings (using that pair of simple bands, with the diamond ring kept as a memento), a segment where they would say what they wanted to say to each other, and a private, warm small dinner.
Zong Yi, meanwhile, took charge of their outfits. She refused Yan Hanxie's suggestion of a custom wedding gown, and instead personally chose two sets of finely tailored, simple and elegant white suit dresses.
Hers leaned slightly toward softness, while Yan Hanxie's appeared sharper and upright.
When the two of them stood together in front of the full-length mirror in the villa's dressing room to try them on, their reflections stood side by side—both dressed in white, with different temperaments, yet strangely harmonious, as if they were meant to stand together from the very beginning.
"Does it look good?" Zong Yi tugged lightly at her lapel, asking somewhat nervously.
Yan Hanxie didn't answer immediately. She simply turned to face Zong Yi, her gaze focused as it slowly traced her figure inch by inch—from her straight shoulders to her narrowed waist, to her long, straight legs.
Her eyes were deep, filled with that familiar burning intensity Zong Yi knew so well, along with a more complex emotion—something almost devout.
"It looks good," Yan Hanxie finally said after a long moment, her voice low and slightly hoarse.
She reached out—not to adjust the clothes, but to gently cup Zong Yi's cheek, her thumb softly brushing her skin. "My bride is the most beautiful."
Zong Yi's cheeks flushed instantly, her heart sweet as if soaked in honey.
She raised her hand as well, straightening Yan Hanxie's already immaculate collar, her fingertips brushing unintentionally against the warm skin of her neck.
"You too," she said softly, looking at Yan Hanxie, who's equally breathtaking figure in white was reflected in her eyes. "My bride is also the most beautiful."
Yan Hanxie smiled, lowered her head, and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips.
"Then we are the most beautiful pair," she murmured softly, resting her forehead against hers.
Beyond the wedding, they also began discussing more practical arrangements for life.
"After we're married, the company… have you thought about it?" one evening after dinner, Zong Yi asked casually while washing dishes.
Yan Hanxie leaned against the kitchen doorway watching her, holding a dishcloth. "Vice President Sun is capable enough good at maintaining but lacking in expansion. I plan to gradually hand over some non-core business to him while retaining control over strategic direction and major decisions. 'Spark' was built by you, so naturally you'll continue to manage it. As for the rest…" she paused, "I want to leave more time for us, and… for other plans in the future."
"Other plans?" Zong Yi turned off the faucet, turned around, and dried her hands.
Yan Hanxie walked over, took the bowl from her hands, and began drying it as she spoke in a tone as calm as if discussing tomorrow's weather: "For example, having a child."
Zong Yi froze, looking at her in surprise.
Yan Hanxie placed the dried bowl into the cabinet, then turned and leaned against the counter, looking at Zong Yi.
Her gaze was clear and open, carrying inquiry, and a faint, almost imperceptible tension.
"I've looked into the information and consulted doctors. Given our current health and age, whether through medical assistance or other methods, it's all feasible," Yan Hanxie said steadily, though Zong Yi could hear the caution and expectation beneath it. "Of course, this is just my initial thought. Whether we want one, when, and how—that's all up to you. I just want you to know that in my plans for the future, there is 'us,' and also the option of 'our possible child.'"
She walked up to Zong Yi and took her hand, her fingers gently brushing over her knuckles and rings.
"I know this might disrupt your career plans and bring many new challenges and responsibilities. So there's no rush—we can think about it slowly and prepare gradually," Yan Hanxie said, her gaze gentle yet firm. "I just want you to know that building a family with you, having a future that belongs to the two of us, is one of the things I want most. And that future can include anything you want it to include."
Zong Yi's heart softened completely at her words.
A child… the idea felt unfamiliar to her, something she had never seriously considered.
But now, hearing Yan Hanxie speak of it so earnestly, seeing the undisguised longing in her eyes and the complete respect for her choice, she suddenly felt that it… wasn't so distant or frightening after all.
It would be the crystallization of their love, the continuation of their lives—a new life for them to cherish and raise together.
"I… need some time to think about it," Zong Yi answered honestly, holding Yan Hanxie's hand in return. "But it sounds… like it could be nice."
Yan Hanxie's eyes lit up instantly. She pulled Zong Yi into her arms, her chin lightly brushing the top of her head.
"Mm, no rush," she repeated, her voice carrying a satisfied smile. "We have a lifetime to discuss it slowly and prepare together."
Aside from these broader discussions about the future, most of the time they remained immersed in their small, warm daily life.
Only now, the new identity of "fiancée" added even more sweetness to those everyday moments.
Yan Hanxie began using "my fiancée" more frequently, especially when introducing Zong Yi to others, her tone carrying undisguised pride and possessiveness.
Zong Yi, meanwhile, learned to care for Yan Hanxie in gentler ways whenever she occasionally showed fatigue or discomfort—like making more nourishing soups, or quietly massaging her tense temples while she handled complicated documents.
The wedding day drew closer.
It was finally set for a weekend in late spring and early summer, with warm sunlight and a gentle breeze.
On the wedding day, everything unfolded just as they had envisioned.
Inside the glass greenhouse, sunlight streamed through the dome above, filtered by dense greenery into soft, dappled light.
The air carried the fresh scent of plants and a faint floral fragrance.
There was only a dozen or so guests present—people who truly mattered in their lives.
No priest, no scripted vows.
They simply stood face to face, dressed in matching white suits, under the quiet, blessing-filled gazes of their loved ones.
Aunt Ji Ying briefly hosted and then handed the moment over to them.
Yan Hanxie spoke first.
She looked at Zong Yi, her gaze deep and focused, as if she wanted to carve this moment into her heart forever.
"Zong Yi," she called her name, her voice clear and steady, cutting through the quiet greenhouse, "a long time ago, I thought life was a game that had to be won, and emotions were the most uncontrollable—and most unnecessary—variable in it. I measured distance with calculation and built walls with reason, until I met you."
She paused, stepping forward to gently hold both of Zong Yi's hands.
The pair of simple rings touched between their fingers, reflecting a soft glow.
"You showed me what it feels like to let down my guard and give my trust. It's bitter, painful, full of countless moments of panic—but also… irreplaceable warmth and peace." Yan Hanxie's thumb brushed lightly over the simple ring on Zong Yi's finger. "This ring marks our beginning. And today, standing here, I want to tell you—and everyone—"
She tightened her grip slightly on Zong Yi's hands.
"From this moment on, in Yan Hanxie's life, Zong Yi is no longer a variable, but the only constant. You are my destination, my faith, and the meaning of everything in the rest of my life."
Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was firm and heavy, striking Zong Yi's heart and settling into the quiet air.
Zong Yi's vision was already blurred with tears.
She looked at Yan Hanxie—this woman who had once been distant, cold, and hard to read—now gazing at her with utmost sincerity, speaking the most moving vows.
She took a deep breath, steadying her surging emotions before speaking slowly:
"Yan Hanxie," she called her full name, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, "I once believed that a person could live well alone. Rationality, clarity, and distance were the best ways to protect oneself. It was you—your 'calculations,' your 'dominance,' even your 'fragility'—that forced your way into my world, little by little, leaving me no room to refuse."
Her tears finally fell, but she was smiling.
"You made me get used to your presence, depend on your warmth, and taught me how to love, how to rely on someone, how to… trust someone completely without reservation." Zong Yi lifted their joined hands, letting the simple rings shine more clearly in the sunlight. "This ring is your promise, and also my answer. Today, standing here, I also want to tell you—"
She looked into Yan Hanxie's equally tearful eyes and spoke word by word, clear and firm:
"From now on, in Zong Yi's life, Yan Hanxie is not only my lover, my wife, but also my partner in battle, my soulmate—the one I will never let go of, never leave, whether in storm or sunshine."
When her words ended, the greenhouse fell silent, filled only with faint sobs and warm, blessing gazes.
Aunt Ji Ying stepped forward at the right moment and handed them another pair of identical but brand-new simple rings.
Yan Hanxie picked one up first and, with utmost care and solemnity, slid it onto Zong Yi's left ring finger, replacing the old simple ring engraved with their birthdays.
Then she lowered her head and placed a kiss on the ring.
Zong Yi picked up the other one, her fingers trembling slightly but steady as she placed it onto Yan Hanxie's left ring finger.
Then she rose on her toes and pressed a kiss onto the new ring as well.
There was no "I do," no "till death do us part."
But their clasped hands, the rings pressed together, and the unmistakable light in each other's eyes—filled with love and promise—had already surpassed a thousand words.
Aunt Ji Ying, her eyes filled with tears, announced, "Now, you may kiss each other."
Yan Hanxie reached out, gently cupping Zong Yi's tear-streaked face, her thumb wiping away her tears. Then, she leaned in and kissed her—deeply, tenderly.
Zong Yi closed her eyes, responding to this kiss that symbolized a brand-new beginning.
Sunlight, greenery, the fragrance of flowers, and the soft blessings and applause from friends and family.
Everything became the most beautiful backdrop to the beginning of their love and marriage.
From their initial testing and cautious approach, to leaning on each other through illness, to the sweet adjustments of daily life, and finally to this moment—under the witness of their closest loved ones, making a lifelong promise and wearing rings that symbolized marriage.
The journey of pursuing her wife had, at this moment, finally come to a perfect and complete ending.
And the longer, warmer journey called "marriage," belonging to Yan Hanxie and Zong Yi, had just set sail.
The future might still hold storms, still require adjustment.
But their hands were already tightly clasped, the rings on their fingers shining with enduring light.
As wives, they would continue to love, to stay together, and to write the one-of-a-kind story of their lives.
Until their hair turned white, until the end of time.
—
T/N:
This is the end of the story. As always, if you want to support the author, go to jjwxc.net; and if you spot any typos, please let me know.