Chapter Twenty-Eight

Heh, Yingyue watched the news, a cold smile curling at the corner of her lips. Yes, his age was indeed suited for marriage; their families, ages, and appearances matched well. Marriage between them was only natural.

So, as his little mother, should she call to offer her congratulations?

But why did her chest feel so uncomfortable?

She closed her laptop and lay back on the bed once more. Above her head, the transparent night sky shimmered with twinkling stars, as if someone unseen was watching her.

How annoying!

“Ding-dong—” The bright night sky faded into a pale violet ceiling, shutting those bothersome stars outside. She gently closed her eyes.

In the study,

Yu Wenxi gazed at the headline news, his brows tightly knit as he read about Arthur’s impending wedding.

Although he had only met Arthur Rivers once, it was not difficult to see that his relationship with Yingyue was complicated. Yingyue’s attitude toward him was, how should one put it, ambiguous. She disliked him, yet silently endured his disrespectful and frivolous behavior. That was what unsettled Yu Wenxi most. It was as if there was a world that belonged only to the two of them, a world others could neither enter nor understand.

Yu Wenxi pondered, his lips pressed into a thin line. What would Yingyue do?

In Yingyue’s bedroom,

Since he was letting go, why should she keep struggling? Wasn’t she always hoping to break free from him?

Then, let go.

She picked up her phone from the bedside table and dialed a number.

“Hello, Yu, wrap seven Blue Enchantress roses into a bouquet, and send them to Lilith Castle in England.” She hung up, gazing at the violet ceiling, her eyes vacant.

So, I bless you.

Xiahou Yu held the phone, glanced at the newspaper beside him, and saw the bold headline. He silently shook his head and sighed quietly.

Lilith Castle, England

In the study, Arthur looked at the newspaper—several pages filled with news about him.

Inheritance of the family headship, potential actions to follow, a special investiture as “First Duke” by Her Majesty the Queen—what did it all mean?

He skimmed over it indifferently until a headline caught his eye: “Wedding Approaching?” His brows furrowed for a moment, then relaxed. A cold smile played at his lips as he tossed the paper aside.

“Knock-knock—” A knock sounded at the door. “Your Highness, you have a delivery.”

A delivery? “Bring it in.”

The old butler entered, holding a bouquet of Blue Enchantress roses, respectfully placing it on the desk and standing by for instructions.

Arthur’s brows tightened so fiercely they could crush a fly. He stared at the glaring bouquet, picked up the card resting on the petals. It read: “Wishing you happiness.”

In the lower right corner, a seductive violet was drawn.

Arthur gazed at the alluring violet, momentarily dazed.

It seemed so long since he had last seen such a beautiful and enchanting violet.

A haze blurred his vision, and a silver-bell laughter drifted to his ears, along with a familiar face. He longed for these things so deeply that, unknowingly, a beguiling smile blossomed on his lips.

But then, “Wishing you happiness”—those four words abruptly entered his sight.

His gentle blue eyes turned ice cold in an instant.

His fingers slowly tightened, crumpling the card into a ball. He caressed the delicate petals, yet his rose-colored lips twisted into a cold smile. He looked up and ordered the butler, “Add five more stems and send them back.” With that, he rose and strode out.