On June 15th, the Traditional Almanac read: “Auspicious for Marriage, Meeting Friends, and Praying for Blessings.”

Su Xingyu woke up at six o’clock in the morning. She lay in bed for a while, staring blankly at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling. Today was the day she was going to register her marriage. She rolled over, buried her face in the pillow, and let out a muffled sigh.

After getting up, she stood in front of the mirror and took a look at herself. A white shirt, jeans, and cloth shoes—exactly the same outfit as yesterday. After thinking it over, she dug another light-blue jacket out of her suitcase and put it on. It wasn’t that she was trying to dress up; she just felt that dressing too casually for a marriage registration ceremony might not be appropriate.

She tied her hair up again, a bit higher than yesterday. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and thought she looked a little more energetic.

She slipped her old silver ring onto her finger and gave it a little twist.

“Grandpa, I’m going to register my marriage today,” she whispered.

The ring was cool to the touch, but there was no response.

She smiled and turned around to go downstairs.

Zhou Shen was already busy in the kitchen. Seeing Su Xingyu come down, her eyes lit up. “Xingyu, you look so lively today!”

“Thank you, Zhou Shen,” Su Xingyu said as she walked to the kitchen door. “I’ll help out.”

“No, no, you just sit down. It’ll be ready soon.”

But Su Xingyu wouldn’t hear of it. She rolled up her sleeves, washed her hands, and started helping chop vegetables. Her knife skills were excellent—she sliced the potatoes into thin, even shreds—and Zhou Shen couldn’t help but nod approvingly as she watched.

“How long have you been learning to cut like this?” Zhou Shen asked.

“Since I was little, I learned from my grandpa. He said girls should know how to cook, so they’ll never go hungry no matter where they end up.”

“Your grandpa was right,” Zhou Shen said with a smile, ladling out the porridge. “Young Master used to love running into the kitchen too, but later…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, and Su Xingyu didn’t press further. She knew what “later” meant. Later, his luck began to turn bad, and he probably didn’t even want to step into the kitchen anymore.

At half past seven, Fu Zhengyuan came downstairs. Today he was wearing a deep-brown Tang Suit, his hair neatly combed, looking much more energetic than yesterday.

“Xingyu, are you ready?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Good, good,” Fu Zhengyuan nodded. “Yanqing will be here at eight. You two can go to the Civil Affairs Bureau together.”

Su Xingyu nodded and lowered her head to sip her porridge.

The porridge was plain white rice porridge, cooked very thick, served with pickled vegetables that Zhou Shen had made herself—it tasted delicious. But after just two spoonfuls, she lost her appetite. It wasn’t nervousness—she couldn’t quite put it into words. It was just a hollow feeling in her heart, as if something were hanging there, suspended and unsettled.

At exactly eight o’clock, the sound of a car came from outside.

Su Xingyu put down her bowl and glanced out the window. A black sedan had pulled up at the gate, and Fu Yanqing stepped out. Today he was wearing a white shirt and dark-gray trousers, his hair perfectly styled. He looked more formal than yesterday, but also a bit colder.

As he walked in, his gaze swept across the living room and landed on Su Xingyu.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Su Xingyu replied, standing up.

Fu Zhengyuan looked at the two of them and nodded with satisfaction. “Let’s go. The sooner you get there, the sooner you’ll be back.”

Fu Yanqing murmured “Mm,” then turned and headed for the door. Su Xingyu followed behind him, and when they reached the entrance, she glanced back at Fu Zhengyuan. He smiled at her—a smile filled with gratitude and hope.

She returned the smile, then turned and walked out the door.

The car left the Old Family Residence and headed toward the Civil Affairs Bureau.

Fu Yanqing was driving, and Su Xingyu sat in the passenger seat. There was just enough space between them for a handbrake, and neither of them said a word.

The air conditioning in the car was set a bit too high, and Su Xingyu felt a little chilly. She rubbed her arms but kept silent.

Fu Yanqing glanced at her and turned up the temperature by two degrees.

Su Xingyu noticed the gesture and her lips twitched slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

At the first intersection, the car hit a red light. Fu Yanqing stopped and tapped the steering wheel twice with his fingers.

End of Chapter 8: Auspicious for Marriage