Translator: Lonelytree Editor: Millman97
Su Zhinian bent over to pick up the card and tossed the envelope aside. The outside of the card was impeccably designed. A big red heart had the word “Invitation” printed in big black block letters in the middle. Beside it was word’Joy’ 1 gilded in gold. The design was romantic and celebratory.
Uncle Song gave me a wedding invitation it seems… Wait, the Song family is having a wedding?
Su Zhinian stopped drying his hair. He stared at the invitation for a long time before he blinked twice, tossed the towel aside, and pulled the card open.
The first thing that he saw after opening the card was the picture of Song Qingchun and Qin Yinan. In the picture, Song Qingchun was standing before a wall of flowers, her head lowered and her smile coy. Qin Yinan stood beside her with one of his hands on her face and another holding her hands while he looked down at her.
Su Zhinian’s lips quivered involuntarily as his gaze moved slowly down.
“You are cordially invited to the wedding of my daughter, Song Qingchun, on 12th December 2016 (Chinese Calendar) or 9th January 2017 (English Calendar). We hope that Mr. Su Zhinian will come to share in the joy of the ceremony.
“Venue: Beijing Hotel.
“Time: 12 pm.”
At the most bottom part of the card, there was a common Chinese wedding greeting line—’Holding your hand, we’ll grow old together.’
There were not many words on the card, but Su Zhinian read it multiple times before his gaze eventually landed on the phrase ‘the wedding of my daughter, Song Qingchun’.
Song Qingchun’s wedding… Song Qingchun is getting married.
It was not until the word ‘married’ sounded in his mind that Su Zhinian realized that Song Menghwa had mailed him an invitation to Song Qingchun’s wedding.
Su Zhinian felt like he was dreaming. He unconsciously reached out to pinch his arm. When he felt the jolt of pain, he had to admit the truth; he was not dreaming.
Song Qingchun was really getting married…
Su Zhinian’s eyes moved around in obvious panic. He was so unlike himself that he forgot to release the fingers that were pinching himself. He stood like a statue beside his bed, holding the invitation in his hand, completely immobile.
The sun slowly moved below the horizon. It was not until the local church’s bells started to ring that Su Zhinian moved his eyes away from the card.
He looked out the window somewhat lost. Staring at the lights of the city, he nodded rather mechanically and told himself, “It’s getting late; it’s time for dinner.”
Su Zhinian put the card down, turned around, and walked downstairs with a calm expression. He looked no different from his usual self. He walked calmly into the kitchen and opened the fridge to take out some eggs, tomatoes, and a bag of noodles.
After finished dicing the tomatoes, he only then realized that the tomatoes had not been washed yet.
