First, then, love.

Time flies by.

In the warm spring of April, all things revive, and the wind finally sheds its chill, carrying the warmth of the sun.

At home, the air conditioning is off, and the windows are half open.

Sunlight streams through the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows without any obstruction.

on the balcony.

The God of War was lying sprawled out on the anti-corrosion wooden floor.

It lazily basked in the sun, its glossy black fur edged with gold by the sunlight, and made a comfortable panting sound in its throat.

On its large, broad head sat a heavy ball of fur.

The princess, with her slightly protruding belly, nestled comfortably atop the god of war's head and slept soundly.

Since finding out she was pregnant, this little devil's temper has gone up to the sky, and she's completely dominating the family.

The God of War has become its exclusive leather sofa and constant-temperature cushion, and it has to be careful even when it turns over, for fear of shaking the pregnant woman on its head off.

With both cats and dogs, life is peaceful and serene.

Shu Yao leaned back on the leather sofa in the living room, watching the scene on the balcony, and couldn't help but smile.

My gaze shifted and landed on a thick red photo album on the coffee table.

More than half a month has passed since that private wedding that shocked half of the core area of ​​the southern city.

But every detail of that day is still clearly etched in her mind.

*

The wedding was beautifully organized and flawlessly executed.

We will proceed exactly as Shu Yao originally proposed.

The most exclusive private garden hotel, with its core courtyard completely reserved.

Security was at its highest level; there were no invitations, and identities were strictly verified. Not even a fly could get through that carved gate.

I didn't invite any random distant relatives, nor did I invite any business partners who wanted to curry favor.

All told, there are exactly eighteen tables.

The scale has been reduced to the bare minimum, but the quality and standard of these eighteen tables are off the charts.

Instead of the tacky pink flower sea, the event featured top-notch florists who used rare, air-freighted flowers to create a subtly luxurious setting in a classically elegant garden.

Every leaf, every ray of light and shadow, exudes the scent of burning money, yet there's not a trace of nouveau riche tackyness.

The banquet was prepared by a Michelin three-star chef team, with food cooked on-site.

Even the bone china plates and stemmed glasses on the dining table are custom-made by top international brands.

Shen Minghua was wearing a dark red, heavily embroidered Suzhou-style cheongsam that day, and her well-maintained face was beaming with a wide smile.

She held Shu's mother's hand as the two of them moved among the guests.

Those who came were all true members of the inner circle. What kind of grand occasions hadn't they seen? But once they sat down, had a sip of tea, and looked at the details around them, they understood everything perfectly.

The He family really spared no expense for this wedding, and the bride's position is now as secure as a rock.

Shen Minghua saved face, and Shu's father and He's father upheld political discipline, resulting in a happy ending for everyone.

on the main table.

He Feng flew back from the Northwest.

He was wearing a dark gray bespoke suit, his posture was as straight as a pine tree, and he wore a pair of frameless glasses on his nose.

He sat there, not saying much, just occasionally taking a sip of his wine.

The cold, sharp aura he had cultivated year-round in the wind and sand of the Northwest was suppressed by his suit, exuding an air of refined scoundrel authority.

No one dared to force him to drink, and no one dared to ignore him.

The side table on the other side.

Old Li, Monkey, Little Zhao, and the other rough-around-the-edges SWAT team members were all ordered by He Zheng to change into formal attire.

A dozen or so grown men were crammed together at one table, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

The monkey tugged at the tie around its neck, stared at the exquisitely presented but pitifully small piece of French foie gras in front of it, and swallowed hard.

"Holy crap, Brother Li, this plate is cleaner than my face. Is this enough to fill you up?" the monkey whispered, his tongue practically tied in knots.

Old Li slapped the monkey on the back of the head and glared at it.

"Shut up, you country bumpkin! This is about the ambiance, the atmosphere. Didn't you see the guys on guard duty outside have bulging backs? It's the captain's wedding today, so everyone better stand up straight! Anyone who embarrasses himself will have to do a 50-kilometer cross-country run with weights!"

Xiao Zhao's hands trembled as he held the knife and fork, as if he had Parkinson's disease.

"Brother Li, I've never been to such a high-class place in my life. One sip of this wine feels like half a month's salary."

A group of rough-looking men sat upright at the table, like a group of primary school students being punished by being made to stand.

Sangjiu and Qiaoqiao, as bridesmaids, had been busy with the two of them since early morning.

The music is ringing.

The wedding ceremony officially began.

Shu Yao wore a heavily embellished wedding dress that she had personally flown to Paris to have custom-made.

The wedding dress was designed to be very light and airy, without an exaggerated petticoat, but the skirt was adorned with thousands of tiny South African diamonds.

Bathed in the sunlight of the garden, she seemed to glow as she moved, her beauty beyond compare.

She wore the emerald jewelry that Shen Minghua had given her, exuding a cold and noble aura.

She didn't walk slowly down the red carpet arm in arm with Shu's father, nor did she participate in any of those sentimental handover ceremonies.

Because He Zheng didn't follow the procedure at all.

This bandit.

Wearing a sharp, tailored black suit, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and shiny leather shoes, he looked incredibly handsome.

But instead of a delicate little bouquet, he was holding a huge bunch of top-quality red roses, totaling nine hundred and ninety-nine.

The flowers were so red they looked like they were dripping blood, and the bouquets were as big as a small, moving mountain.

It completely blocked out most of his upper body.

He didn't want to stand on the stage and wait.

He strode across the red carpet, stepping on the petals with a gust of wind, exuding the aura of a ruthless bandit about to snatch someone back to his stronghold.

He walked up to Shu Yao.

Without saying a word, he stuffed the heavy Rose Mountain into her arms.

The roses were so heavy that Shu Yao stumbled forward and almost lost her balance.

"What are you doing! It's so heavy!" Shu Yao lowered her voice, glaring at him through gritted teeth. "The emcee hasn't even spoken yet! That's not how the procedure is!"

He Zheng ignored her, stretched out his arm, put one arm around her slender waist, and pulled her into his arms.

"I don't care about any of those stupid procedures. I haven't been able to hug my wife since this morning."

His voice was low and husky, his dark eyes fixed on her beautiful face, burning with a fervent fire.

They are rich and powerful, and unreasonable.

Below the stage, the table with the special police team was the first to erupt in good-natured laughter and whistles, while the elders shook their heads with smiles.

Shu Yao blushed, her peach blossom eyes shimmering as she stared at him.

"You bumpkin, you nouveau riche, you're so tacky," she muttered to herself.

"So what if it's vulgar? I'm happy with it."

He Zheng didn't care at all.

"Where's the ring? Put it on quickly. The emcee is talking too much nonsense. After you put it on, have some food. You only drank some milk this morning. Don't you want your stomach? If you starve, I'll tear this lousy stage down."

Who would complain about the MC talking too much and rush to start the banquet at their own wedding ceremony?

Shu Yao laughed in exasperation.

Looking at the man in front of her, whose eyes were full of love for her, she stopped putting on airs.

"He Lao Er," she called him softly.

"Yes," He Zheng replied immediately, his back ramrod straight.

"From now on, your salary card will belong to me."

"I already paid it; it's all with you."

"You're in charge of the cats and dogs at home; scooping poop and bathing them are all your responsibilities."

"Okay, I'll take it."

"If I were you, you couldn't yell at me, you couldn't give me a cold shoulder, and you definitely couldn't give me the silent treatment."

He Zheng raised an eyebrow and sneered, "From now on, we won't have any more cold wars. Every time, I'm the one who has to beg and coax you."

Shu Yao smiled brightly, her eyes crinkling.

"He Zheng," she said, her voice softening, dropping all her jokes and pretense.

"Um."

"I love you."

These three words, clear and firm, resonated in the air.

He Zheng froze.

His breath caught in his throat, and even the hand around her waist tightened abruptly.

He had never heard sweeter words in his life.

He suddenly lowered his head, ignoring the gazes of the elders below the stage and the shouts of the SWAT team members who were tearing the roof off.

In front of everyone, he kissed her lips.

"I love you too, I'd give you my life."