Cheng Huan was getting married.
The groom was the son of her parents' former superior, a promising young man who was well educated, courteous, and emotionally intelligent. Both sets of parents had met, the wedding date had been set, and the marriage certificate had been obtained. Cheng Huan's parents had been smiling nonstop lately.
As for Cheng Huan herself, she was thirty percent willing.
He had decent prospects, decent looks, a bachelor's degree, a decent job, and a decent family background. With all those "decent" qualities combined, she really couldn't find a reason to turn him down.
The other seventy percent was being pushed along.
Her parents were pushing, her coworkers were pushing, her age was pushing. Everyone around her was telling her-good enough was good enough. You're still not satisfied with someone like him? What more do you want? The older a woman gets, the harder it is to find someone.
As though a woman were a product stamped with an expiration date, something that had to be marked down as the date approached, or no one would want it once it expired.
Those words hurt terribly, yet Cheng Huan had to admit they were all facts.
She didn't know what she wanted, either. But she knew this wasn't entirely what she wanted.
That figure was still in her heart. His face had grown hazy, but he was still there. Perhaps what you couldn't have was always the best.
Yet she couldn't say a word in protest.
If she did, her parents would be heartbroken, her fiancé would be humiliated, and both families' dignity would shatter. All her life, Cheng Huan had excelled at being considerate. Considerate people never ruined things. How could considerate people possibly ruin things?
As the family of three ate, the conversation naturally shifted from