Mr. Tycoon's Daring Wife

Four years later.

Sitting upon a plush, velvet chair, a woman winced as she felt her hair being tugged in all sorts of directions. There were enough make-up supplies on the vanity to last a lifetime and maybe even open a cosmetic store.

Women scrambled around in the room, all of whom were rushing to get the beautiful woman in white dressed up and ready.

x"Where’s Xiang Bai’s new perfume? Yes, yes, the one that was endorsed by that celebrity—" Bai Rinuo anxiously browsed through the metal case she brought with her.

"We need the pin tail comb, this is the fine-toothed comb!" Yang Ruqin huffed while adding the hundredth layer of hair spray onto Zhao Lifei’s hair.

"Should we go with the golden leaf hairpin or the pearl one? Oh, maybe this white bouvardia would look better! It matches the bouquet she will be holding later." Zhao Xingxing said while holding the black satin box filled with hairpieces.

"Oh for the love of everything holy, please do not put pearls on her hair, that’s so old-fashioned!" Yang Ruqin retorted, tugging Zhao Lifei’s hair in annoyance.

"Oh, Qinqin, my hair—"

"Wait wait, speaking of old, do we have something new, something blue, something—" Fan Jielan spoke up, scrambling to find the pieces.

"Okay, nobody panic, but I finally found the sapphire earrings that Feng-ge had gifted her during their petty gift war. Wait, isn’t it still going on?" Yang Ruqin said, pointing to the discreet box that sat at the edge of the vanity.

"Hm, from my tally, President Yang is in the lead—" Su Meixiu began, glancing down at her tablet before placing it down and puffing the end of Zhao Lifei’s long-train dress.

Zhao Lifei’s wedding gown was a lovely shade of white ivory — clean and chic. It hugged her body, with lace and satin decorating the off-shoulder dress. Embroidery of small features and crystals spread from the chest-line, curving around the sheer and loose sleeves that became more form-fitted once it got to the cuffs of her wrist. The dress billowed out from the waist down in tens of layers that created an effortlessly long train. Lacey vines that were a mixture of silver flowers and leaves stemmed from her waist, blending perfectly into the fabric of her gown.

Her neck was left bare, except for a speckle of highlighter that brought out her thin collarbones, like a dove spreading her wings. Her hair was in a simple bun with slightly wavy strands framing her small forehead and revealing her milky white, swan neck.

A pair of diamond and sapphire earrings dangled from her ears, the only pop of color that was in a loving contrast to her lips. It was lightly painted to mimic the color of peach blossoms that survived the long winter and the specks of pink flowers in her bouquet enhanced everything about her appearance. It was needless to say, all of the hard work from the ladies in the room had paid off.

"My lady, you mustn’t run in your newly tailored dress!" The voice of a frantic maid called from outside of the ravishing room. The sound of small pattering feet could be heard, followed by, "Young Master, please do not encourage the young miss to run!"

The door was pushed open through the collision of two small bodies of similar height, stature, but completely different appearances. A bright-eyed girl, whose features perfectly resembled her overbearing father, but with hints of graceful femininity, tumbled into the room.

Her tiny burst of giggles jingled like finely made bells. It tickled the hearts of the people in the room. She dropped her woven basket of white and pink rose petals, all of which were tossed over her head when she nearly tripped but was caught by a boy. He was half a head taller than her, but his face resembled his mother, refined, but with the roguishness of his father. When standing side by side, the father and son were a devilishly handsome pair that drew attention with each step they took.

"Mama!" Yang Rina squealed in delight, her face lit up as it did during Christmas morning. She didn’t bother thanking her older brother for catching her before she fell upon the ground. Instead, her short legs carried her to the beautiful woman sitting by the vanity. In her naive eyes, she thought her mother must’ve been the fairy queen stepping out of a magical forest. To her, no one was more beautiful than her doting mother.

"Hug! Hug!" Yang Rina dodged the grabbing and panicking hands of her beloved aunt and grandmother.

"No, Xiao Na, you can’t hug your mother! You’ll ruin her dress!" Fan Jielan shrieked, horrified that the sitting masterpiece would be damaged.

"A little hug never harmed anyone." Zhao Lifei let out an escalated laughter when she reached down and attempted to pick her daughter up, but Yang Rina had diligently listened to her grandmother and decided it was better to admire her mother from afar.

Zhao Lifei shook her head at her adorable daughter and folded the back of her dress before bending down. Her hand gently caressed the bangs of her daughter’s silky smooth hair.

Yang Wenxu stood by the doorway where his younger sister had made a fool out of herself. Scattered flower petals littered the floor and had he not caught her, the spoiled brat would’ve surely thrown a temper tantrum. And everyone knew, when the great Yang Rina cried, all hell would let loose in the form of a brooding father.

Yang Rina placed a small finger onto her chin and pretended to think about her response before cheekily saying, "Thanks, but no thanks, Wen-ge. I could’ve caught myself from falling."

Yang Wenxu scowled, crossing his arms, "Yeah right. Maybe when pigs fly, you can!"

"Nuh-uh, mommy said pigs can fly if you throw it in the air." Yang Rina retorted, sticking out her tongue before darting behind her mother’s skirt when Yang Wenxu glowered at her.

"Why does this conversation seem so familiar?" A voice spoke up, mellow and smooth like melted chocolate. A man attempted to enter the room only for a barricade of women to stop him in his path.

"My daft son, you’re breaking tradition! Get out!"

"None of you mediocrely short women can stop my eyes from glancing at my wife—" Yang Feng’s words died off in his throat. A goddess. For heaven’s sake, a goddess was standing in front of him and he didn’t know how to react. His mouth opened and closed, at a loss for words. Nothing raced faster than his beating heart at the sight of his beautiful wife.

"You should take a picture, it lasts longer." Zhao Lifei laughed, shaking her head as the memories washed over her. She was brought back into the past where they bickered like petty children. Well, they still do, but it’s more of teasing and slight bullying.

"Trust me, my love, there are enough pictures to be passed around for centuries to come. I need all of our future generations to remember their beauty came from you." He stared deeply into her eyes, beautiful like a molten pool of gold. Even from afar, he could see the stars she had trapped within them. The things she did to his poor heart were inhumane. Even after all of these years, he was still madly in love with her. With each passing day, his love for her would only swell and grow. He was pretty sure nothing could stop the abnormal and startling growth.

"You’re so cheesy," Zhao Lifei wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. While she was lost in a conversation with him, Yang Rina had grabbed the bouquet off the vanity. In the process, her clumsy hands had nearly toppled over the cosmetic bottles.

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself from the tumbling bottles that would surely leave a bruise. But nothing came. Not even a speck of dust landed upon her.

"What am I going to do you with?" Yang Wenxu sighed. He had unexpectedly caught the bottles in his hand and was in the process of placing them back onto the table. For a child his age, his vocabulary was surprisingly extensive.

"Well, for starters, you can pamper me a bit more and call me endearing nicknames—"

"Maybe when you behave like an endearing little sister, I will." Yang Wenxu turned his back to her, hiding the small smile that broke out from the sight of her slight pout. He could already imagine the puffing of her soft, squishable cheeks that resembled freshly steamed buns. Everyone in the family had a nice laugh from squeezing her face.

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