The evening stretched on, the air thick with polite conversation and the clinking of glasses. Lixue played her part flawlessly, smiling and engaging with the guests who approached her. Mo Ran stayed close, offering his quiet support, though his mind was elsewhere—lingering on the earlier encounters with Du Yuan and his aunts.
Finally, as the last of the guests trickled out and the staff began clearing the tables, the Mo family's elders took their places near the grand staircase, calling for the immediate family to gather.
Mo Ran's grandparents, the formidable heads of the Mo household, were seated in ornately carved chairs that seemed to emphasize their authority. His grandmother, with her sharp eyes and delicate pearls, waved for Mo Ran and Lixue to step forward.
"Ran'er, Lixue," she said, her tone imperious yet affectionate. "It's late. Stay the night. It's been far too long since this house was filled with family. Your room upstairs has been prepared."
Lixue blinked, caught off guard by the sudden suggestion. She glanced at Mo Ran, unsure of how to respond.
Mo Ran, however, didn't hesitate. "Thank you, Grandmother," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But we'll be heading home tonight."
A murmur rippled through the gathered family members. His grandfather, seated beside his wife, raised a bushy eyebrow. "It's already past midnight, Ran'er. Why the rush? Stay. This house is your home too."
Mo Ran's lips twitched into a faint smile, but there was a glint of steel in his eyes. "I appreciate the hospitality, but my home is with my wife now. I'd like to start our morning together, in our own space."
His words were polite, but there was an unmistakable finality to them.
The grandmother's gaze lingered on him, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "You've become rather independent since your marriage," she remarked, her voice carrying a subtle edge.
Mo Ran met her gaze evenly. "Marriage changes a man," he said smoothly, his hand resting lightly on Lixue's back.
Lixue felt a flicker of surprise at the sincerity in his tone, but she said nothing, maintaining her poised demeanor.
The grandmother sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "Very well. If that's what you want. But you'll visit again soon, won't you?"
"Of course," Mo Ran replied. "We wouldn't stay away too long."
With that, the gathering began to dissolve, family members murmuring their goodbyes. Mo Ran and Lixue exchanged a few parting words with his father and siblings before finally making their way to the waiting car.
As they settled into the backseat, the tension of the evening began to dissipate. Mo Ran leaned back, closing his eyes briefly, while Lixue gazed out the window at the sprawling estate, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns.
"Did I offend your grandparents?" she asked quietly after a while.
Mo Ran opened one eye, glancing at her. "Not at all. They're just not used to me saying no."
"You do that quite often?" she remarked.
He smirked faintly. "Only when I need to."
Silence fell between them, comfortable yet contemplative. Lixue folded her hands in her lap, her thoughts drifting to the various interactions she had witnessed that evening—the sharpness of Mo Ran's aunts, the warmth of his niece, and the lingering sadness in his eyes when he thought no one was watching.
"Thank you," she said softly, breaking the quiet.
Mo Ran turned to her, one eyebrow raised. "For what?"
"For standing up for me," she said, meeting his gaze. "You didn't have to, but you did."
His expression softened, and for a moment, the guarded mask he often wore seemed to slip. "You're my wife," he said simply. "It's my job to stand by you."
Lixue's lips curved into a small smile, her heart unexpectedly warmed by his words.
The drive home was quiet, the hum of the car filling the space between them. Lixue leaned against the window, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her gown. She was exhausted, her mind replaying the evening—the layered conversations.
Mo Ran finally broke the silence. "Tired?"
She turned to him, offering a faint smile. "A little. It was… a lot to take in."
He let out a soft laugh, one devoid of its usual sharpness. "That's my family. They don't hold back. But you handled it well."
Lixue tilted her head. "Ha you mean I survived."
"More than that," he said, glancing at her briefly before returning his attention to the road. "They'll remember tonight for a long time, and not because of me."
She narrowed her eyes, unsure if he meant that as praise or something else. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."
"You should. It means they're taking you seriously," he replied, his tone steady. "Not many people can say that after one night."
The car slowed as they approached their home, the large gates sliding open to let them through. Once the car stopped, Mo Ran stepped out first, offering her his hand. She hesitated, but her fingers brushed against his as she accepted his help, her movements slower now with the exhaustion of the day catching up.
The night air was crisp, and the house loomed ahead quietly, its tall windows glowing faintly with warm light. Inside, everything was still. The staff had already retired, leaving the grand entryway empty.
Mo Ran shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair as they entered. He loosened his tie, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
"Do you want tea?" he asked, surprising her.
Lixue blinked at the unexpected question. "No, thank you. I think I'll just rest."
"Go ahead," he said, gesturing toward the stairs. "I'll be up in a bit."
She nodded, studying him for a moment before heading upstairs. His tone had been softer than usual, almost thoughtful. She didn't press, though; whatever was on his mind, he'd share it in his own time—or not.
Reaching their bedroom, she paused in front of the large mirror. Her gown, though wrinkled from the evening, still shimmered in the soft light. The train pooled at her feet like liquid silver, and her hair, once perfectly styled, had loosened into soft waves around her face. She reached up to remove her headpiece, setting it gently on the vanity.
Her thoughts wandered to Mo Ran. Despite the complexities of the evening, he had been surprisingly considerate. Perhaps it wasn't much, but it was enough to ease the lingering unease from his family's sharp gazes and probing questions.
Downstairs, Mo Ran poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass as he stared out the window. The night was quiet, but his thoughts weren't. The evening had brought back memories he hadn't planned to confront, but they clung to him like shadows.