“Even if he’s crippled, you don’t deserve him!” Rén Mèngyáo’s voice cut through the haze of Su Wantang’s fury, laced with bitter envy. “He’s breathtakingly handsome. Absolutely stunning.” Her stepsister’s face, usually composed, twisted into a mask of pure venom. Her words, sharp as shards of glass, tried to pierce Su Wantang, but the sheer force of betrayal and outrage rendered them almost meaningless. Su Wantang’s mind barely registered the compliment. All she saw was the smiling faces of Lín Xuě and her stepfather, the sly satisfaction in their eyes. They had used her, manipulated her, trafficked her into a marriage while she slept.
Fists clenched, nails digging into her palms, Su Wantang spun on her heel. Every fiber of her being screamed for escape. The oppressive air in that opulent, gilded cage felt suffocating. She couldn’t stay another second. She needed to breathe, to think, to find a way to quiet the raging inferno in her chest.
Without a word, a backward glance, or a farewell, she strode out of the house. The cool air hit her face, a welcome shock after the stifling warmth within. She walked, then ran, her heels clicking a furious rhythm on the pavement until her driver, who had been waiting patiently, pulled up beside her. He opened the door, a silent question in his eyes. Su Wantang simply pointed forward, a silent command.
Her personal villa, a sanctuary she had meticulously cultivated, welcomed her with its familiar quiet. Inside, she moved with practiced efficiency. She retrieved the small vial from her hidden medical kit, uncapped it, and swallowed the clear liquid – a potent antidote to the insidious sleeping agents Lín Xuě had used. A sigh escaped her lips as the bitter taste faded. Her body began to relax, the tension slowly draining from her limbs.
She took a quick, scalding shower, letting the water wash away the lingering grime of their deception. Wrapped in a plush robe, she collapsed onto her bed. Her mind, still reeling, demanded rest. Sleep came, not as a peaceful retreat, but as a deep, restorative darkness, pulling her away from the harsh realities of her so-called family.
---
Hours later, she woke, feeling oddly refreshed. The anger hadn’t vanished entirely, but it had receded, leaving behind a cold, calculating resolve. She sat up, reaching for her tablet. Rén Mèngyáo's words echoed: *“He’s breathtakingly handsome.”*
Curiosity, a potent force even in her rage, gnawed at her. Who was this man they had married her to? The name they'd murmured while she was half-conscious. Jiāng Cíyuǎn. The name was powerful, ringing with prestige, but Su Wantang knew nothing of the Ran Dynasty’s elite beyond what she chose to observe.
Fingers flew across the screen. A quick search. Photos loaded. And then, she froze. Her breath caught. The image on the screen was nothing short of stunning. High cheekbones, a strong jawline, a nose that was perfectly chiseled. His lips, thin and precise, hinted at a formidable will. But it was his eyes that truly captivated her – deep, dark pools that seemed to hold ancient secrets, framed by thick, dark lashes. A faint scar traced his left eyebrow, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise flawless features. His hair, dark and meticulously styled, accentuated the sharp angles of his face. He possessed an almost ethereal beauty, stark and cold, yet undeniably magnetic.
He was indeed handsome. Far beyond handsome. He was a masterpiece. A genuine work of art. Her medical eye immediately scanned for any signs of the “crippled” state Rén Mèngyáo had mentioned, but the photos, mostly professional headshots or carefully cropped body shots, offered no clues.
Scrolling further, she devoured every scrap of information. News articles painted a consistent picture: Jiāng Cíyuǎn, the reclusive heir to the vast Jiāng Corporation. Cold. Mysterious. Untouchable. Nobody dared to approach him, let alone cross him. A perfectionist in every aspect of his work, known for scolding even minor errors with chilling precision. His employees lived in fear of his silent displeasure. The internet consensus was clear: he was terrifying.
She also found numerous articles about a tragic accident a few years prior – a high-speed car crash that had left him with severe, undisclosed injuries. It was widely speculated that he was wheelchair-bound, perhaps even disfigured, which explained Rén Mèngyáo's spiteful comment and the family’s desperation to marry him off.
A strange feeling bloomed in Su Wantang’s chest. Not pity, but something akin to fascination. And an undeniable, potent attraction. This man, with his formidable presence and hidden vulnerability, was exactly her type. Strong, intelligent, and carrying his own burdens. She had never considered love, never thought she would find someone who piqued her interest so profoundly.
*He’s so hot and handsome. I might not find anyone like him in this world.* The thought, sudden and undeniable, settled deep within her. She was already married. It was a forced hand, yes, but perhaps… perhaps this was fate. A new life, a new beginning, with a man who, despite his circumstances, held an undeniable allure. She could heal him. She knew she could. Then, they could build a life. A happy one, perhaps.
Her anger, though still simmering beneath the surface, lost much of its bite. The thought of Jiāng Cíyuǎn’s striking face, his intriguing history, overshadowed the immediate sting of her family’s betrayal. A plan began to form, clear and precise. She would make the best of this. She would heal him. And then, they would see.
---
Several days passed. Su Wantang meticulously planned her next moves, securing her assets and solidifying her independence. Then, a text message arrived. From Lín Xuě. “Even if you’re still angry, your in-laws are having dinner with us today. You better come, or we are going to take your credit card and take all your money.”
A small, humorless smile played on Su Wantang’s lips. Threats. Always threats. Lín Xuě still underestimated her, still believed she held any real leverage. Su Wantang had two bank accounts. One, meticulously built on years of medical consulting from her previous life and her soaring business in this life, was a fortress no one knew about. It held her true wealth. The other, the legal account Lín Xuě knew of, contained only a meager balance, barely enough for pocket change. If they wanted to seize it, they were welcome to it. It would be a hollow victory.
But she wouldn't let them know. Not yet. She needed to maintain the illusion of control, the facade of a timid, easily cowed girl. She typed a quick, deliberately hesitant reply. “Oh, okay, I’m coming.” Her heart, however, pounded with a different kind of anticipation. She was curious. Intensely curious to finally meet her beautiful, mysterious husband.
---
Later that evening, a sleek black car pulled up to a high-end restaurant in the city’s most exclusive district. The maître d', recognizing the Sū family driver, bowed respectfully and led Sū Wantang through hushed corridors to a private dining room. Soft laughter and murmurs drifted from behind the heavy, ornate door.
She pushed it open. All eyes turned to her. Lín Xuě immediately sprung to her feet, a wide, performative smile plastered across her face. “Oh, this is my daughter! The one I told you about, Elder Master Jiāng, Elder Madam Jiāng! Look, I did not disappoint you at all. I picked the best for your son. I knew that my other daughter was… lacking, so I brought my *other* daughter, who is simply perfect and matches your son completely!”
Su Wantang’s gaze swept across the room. Her stepfather sat stiffly. Rén Mèngyáo glowered, her eyes blazing with undisguised hatred. And then, she saw him. Jiāng Cíyuǎn. He sat at the head of the table, regal and still, his eyes – those same dark, intense eyes from the photos – fixed on her. He was indeed in a wheelchair, a silent testament to his accident. But even seated, he exuded an aura of power that commanded attention, overshadowing everyone else in the room.
His parents, an elegant, older couple, had initially looked perturbed by Lín Xuě’s grandstanding. But as their eyes fell on Su Wantang, their expressions softened. The anger that had been evident in their faces just moments before melted away, replaced by surprise, then unmistakable approval. Her beauty, her composed demeanor, clearly exceeded their expectations for a last-minute substitute bride.
Elder Madam Jiāng’s smile was genuine as she nodded. “She is indeed beautiful, Lín Xuě. Quite striking.”
“Yes, absolutely perfect,” Elder Master Jiāng echoed, his voice gruff but pleased. “We agree. She can move in with us immediately. We want her to develop a relationship with our son, and we can get grandkids soon.” The shift in their demeanor was startlingly abrupt. They were desperate, Su Wantang realized, for a future for their company.
Su Wantang, however, had her own terms. “No way,” she stated, her voice clear and firm, cutting through the sudden wave of relieved chatter. “I am not moving in with anyone. If you want us to develop feelings for each other, then he lives with me.”
A stunned silence fell over the table. Lín Xuě’s smile faltered. Rén Mèngyáo’s jaw dropped. The Jiāng elders exchanged bewildered glances. They were clearly taken aback by her audacity. Their son, the formidable Jiāng Cíyuǎn, was expected to dictate terms, not be dictated to.
Elder Master Jiāng cleared his throat, a hint of steel in his tone. “Miss Su, our family estate is vast and—”
“And my villa is perfectly adequate,” Su Wantang interrupted smoothly, holding his gaze. “It is where I am comfortable. Where I work. If you wish for your son to be cared for, he will be cared for there.” Her gaze flickered to Jiāng Cíyuǎn, who remained perfectly still, his expression unreadable, his eyes a bottomless abyss.
The Jiāng elders looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them. Reluctance warred with desperation. Their son had grown increasingly withdrawn and depressed since his accident. They craved a normal life for him, a companion, an heir. This beautiful, strong-willed woman might be his only chance. They didn’t have a choice.
Finally, Elder Madam Jiāng sighed, a small smile returning to her face. “Very well. Just… take him immediately, then. We only want his happiness.”
Take him. As if he were a package, a burden. Su Wantang felt a flicker of empathy for the silent man across the table. Throughout this entire negotiation, this entire dinner, Jiāng Cíyuǎn had not uttered a single word. He hadn’t flinched, hadn’t reacted. Was he mute? The thought crossed her mind, but she dismissed it just as quickly. Even if he were, it wouldn't change her resolve. She would heal him, no matter what. She didn't question his silence, merely accepted it as another facet of his enigmatic persona.
Dinner concluded with a strained politeness. The Jiāng elders handed Su Wantang a richly embossed marriage booklet, already officially registered and stamped. They were legally wed. Just like that. She accepted it, the weight of it suddenly real in her hand. A lifetime commitment, forged in betrayal, now sealed with a signature and a stamp.
As they said their goodbyes, she nodded to the Jiāng elders. Lín Xuě and Rén Mèngyáo watched, their faces a mixture of resentment and shock. Su Wantang turned to Jiāng Cíyuǎn. He sat motionless in his wheelchair, waiting. She pushed his chair toward the exit, his presence a heavy, silent anchor beside her. They left the restaurant, the hum of the city a distant murmur.
Back at her villa, the driver helped transfer Jiāng Cíyuǎn into her living room before departing. The silence that descended was absolute, broken only by the soft whir of the villa’s climate control. She stood before him, the marriage booklet still in her hand. He sat, his posture straight, his hands resting lightly on the armrests of his wheelchair. His eyes, dark and piercing, met hers across the quiet space. He watched her, unblinking, unmoving. A silent question hung in the air, a challenge, perhaps. Or was it something else? Something far more profound, something that hinted at a depth of understanding she hadn’t yet begun to fathom. What did he see when he looked at her like that?