Who I Marry Is None of Your Business

Most of the guests Ethan Jiang invited tonight were the same young heiresses who had attended Elena Shen's birthday banquet at the behest of Mrs. Lin. Aside from Annie Gu, they were the few with whom Elena maintained relatively close friendships.

The private room was well-stocked—wine, drinks, fresh fruit, everything in abundance. With Ethan, Winston Gu, and others keeping watch in the next room, the girls let loose and enjoyed themselves freely.

By 7:40 p.m., the night skyline of Huaihai City shimmered like a sea of stars.

Elena stepped out to use the restroom.

At the end of the corridor stood an arched floor-to-ceiling window. The angle was just right to offer a sweeping view of the glittering "Nightfall" district below.

Before heading to the restroom, Elena paused at the window to admire the vibrant city lights. Down in the square, the lights formed a blooming water lily—soft and resplendent. She casually took a photo and forwarded it to Annie Gu.

The reply came almost instantly:

Annie: "I heard they're flying in blooming purple water lilies for the exhibit at Fubai Square in three days. Want to go?"

Elena raised her brows slightly and typed a single word:

Elena: "Sure."

She put away her phone, took one last glance at the now-shifting light patterns in the square, then turned and walked back toward the private room.

Just as she turned a dimly lit corner in the hallway, she caught sight of a tall figure leaning against the wall—Adrian Jiang, a cigarette pinched between his fingers.

The corridor was close to the windows, allowing the evening breeze to carry wisps of smoke into soft spirals. The air was tinged with the sharpness of nicotine.

Elena's steps faltered.

The memory of his visit to her apartment and their heated argument was still vivid in her mind. And from a month ago till now, every single encounter between them ended in cold confrontation.

She no longer wished to quarrel with him. The long-standing bond between the Jiang and Shen families was not something she wanted to see crumble because of repeated disputes.

But this corridor was the only way back to the room—there was no detour.

Elena collected herself, averted her gaze, and moved forward as if she hadn't seen him.

Yet, the moment she passed him, Adrian lifted his eyes. His expression unreadable, his gaze fell on her like a question, or perhaps an accusation, his voice laced with a feigned levity:

"Never thought my dear brother and sister-in-law could grow so close so quickly."

"Apparently, an arranged marriage can really speed up the whole love thing."

"Even ten years of fear can dissolve overnight through the rose-tinted lens of a marriage certificate."

"Elena, you sure know how to turn affection on and off. Even fear—how do you manage that so effortlessly?"

He used the nickname he once called her when they were young—Little Elena—a name once filled with warmth, now tainted by biting sarcasm.

Sarcasm that stabbed at the truth: she had once been terrified of Ethan Jiang—so much so that whenever he returned to China, she would avoid him completely, never daring to approach.

And now, just a week after receiving their marriage license, she had miraculously conquered her fear, all to solidify a union between the two families.

From the moment Adrian learned about her engagement to Ethan, this kind of mocking, this venom cloaked in nostalgia, had never stopped.

Elena had done everything she could to avoid him. But fate seemed to delight in forcing their paths to cross. Three times in as many days—and each time, the words between them were colder than the last.

She tightened her grip on her phone, the hard edges digging into her palm. Yet she felt none of the pain. Her gaze lifted, calm and clear.

"Adrian Jiang," she said, voice steady, "you and I were never suited to be a couple, nor were we ever meant to be partners in a political marriage. And even if this sibling-like relationship between us has ended, we don't have to be enemies."

"You refused the engagement, chose to promote Grace Su, paraded around with her and stirred endless gossip, made me the laughingstock of every social circle for two years. I never questioned you. I never forced your hand."

"So now, who I marry... has nothing to do with you."

"This engagement—you were the one who walked away first." Her voice grew colder, every word deliberate. "So, Adrian Jiang, you have no right to come at me over and over again."

"If you find it unbearable, just stay away from me—like we have done for the past two years. Let's pretend we never knew each other, never grew up together."

Her words were cutting, clear.

But Adrian seemed to only hear her first sentence.

The mocking in his eyes gave way to something deeper—self-deprecation, raw and unmasked.

"A couple?" He let out a dry laugh, his voice harsh with disbelief, as if she'd told the most absurd joke in the world.

He crushed the cigarette between his fingers. The glowing tip flared out.

His reddened eyes locked onto hers, voice sharp as a blade:

"Elena Shen, have you ever thought of me as someone you could love? Even for a second—was I ever someone you saw as your future?"

The wounds on his hand, barely scabbed over, seemed to split open again. The pain tore its way through nerves and sinew, stabbing straight into his chest, making even breathing an ache.

"When you love someone, you get possessive. You don't want them to look at anyone else. You want to be the only one in their eyes, in their world."

"If you'd ever loved me, even a little..."

"Then when you saw Grace Su throwing herself into my arms that day in the lounge—you would have reacted. You would have asked me why. Yelled at me. Maybe he even pushed her away and told her to leave."

"But you didn't."

"You just watched. Calm. Detached. Like it had nothing to do with you."

"You didn't ask a single question. We weren't angry. Not even disappointed."

"You turned and walked away. And after I told the family I wouldn't go through with the marriage, you moved out—quick, decisive, like we were nothing."

His voice turned colder, more bitter.

"Silas and the others always said you cared about me... that your heart was full of me."

Heh.

"You never cared about me. You cared about what I represented—a marriage alliance."

"That's all you ever clung to. Not me."

"And now? That same affection has been transferred—to my brother."

"Detached?" Elena stood still in the hallway, tension simmering in the air. The sound of his accusations and her memory of his tirade at her apartment days ago made her want to laugh.

There were things she had always chosen not to say.

After all, when the Shen family fell, it was the Jiang family who saved them.

And for the last ten years, the Jiang family have raised her.

No matter how the situation unfolded, she and her family owed them a debt of gratitude.

So even when Adrian lashed out, she chose to retreat. To endure.

But her patience had been twisted—turned into something shameful in his eyes.

She didn't know what he wanted.

She hadn't known for two years.

He hated the idea of a political marriage. Loved Grace Su. Introduced her to the family as his girlfriend. So Elena had moved out, drew a clean line, and gave them space. She had never clung to him, never forced anything.

And yet, still, he resented her.

Still accused her of everything.

There were questions Elena had wanted to ask since their very first fallout.

But she had stayed silent, fearing it would only further poison the fragile remnants of their shared past.

Not tonight.

Not anymore.

"You say I didn't love you, didn't pursue you—wasn't that a good thing?" she asked, eyes steady, words sharp.

"Adrian Jiang, how many times did you say you despised political marriages? How many headlines were there about you and Grace Su? You said she was your girlfriend. You told me you loved women like her. That you only ever saw me as a sister."

"So when you finally found someone you did love—shouldn't I have stepped aside?"

"You accuse me of staying close only because of our engagement. Then when you publicly rejected the marriage, when you already had someone new—why did my departure make you so angry?"

"Or is it that, even if you never wanted this marriage, you still expected me to cling to you—shamelessly, relentlessly—until you had no choice but to marry me?"