Beg Me to Remarry
Chapter 318: Help and Support Each Other

Chapter 318: Chapter 318: Help and Support Each Other

Compared to Fu Han’s engagement day, Xia Ning’s outfit today was almost plain, a light pink Cheongsam that, despite its simplicity, perfectly outlined her stunning figure.

Her makeup today was as exquisite as ever, even more than before; to make her eyes look brighter, she had worn black contact lenses; to give her nose a more defined look, she had highlighted it; and to give her lips a naturally tinted appearance, she had chosen a colored lipstick.

However, for some reason, the pink Cheongsam on her somehow felt rather dowdy, perhaps because she seemed to be trying too hard. For example, the pearl necklace on her neck was too eye-catching, making her look like a nouveau riche.

Of course, no one could deny that Xia Ning looked beautiful today, and ever since her film "Yearn for Return" entered the Entertainment circle, her celebrity status had significantly risen.

As soon as she entered the hotel, she attracted the attention of most people. In just a few minutes after she arrived, several people had already asked for her contact details. Even those conversing with Xia Cheng were trying to sneakily inquire about Xia Ning.

On the outside, Xia Ning appeared carefree and detached from everything, but deep down, she relished the feeling of being the center of attention.

When Fu Han got engaged, Xia Ning had provocatively worn a wedding dress, only to be defeated and mocked by many. That’s why today she had chosen a Cheongsam—despite its expensive cost and the pain she felt when paying for it, she felt it was well worth it. Although the dress wasn’t grand, she had to admit it was a better fit for her cute and refined appearance, as her face wasn’t meant for grandeur.

Thinking this way, Xia Ning’s confidence surged. Her eyes swept around the hotel, burning with jealousy.

The vast hotel lobby was transformed, predominately white with splashes of light purple, and touches of light pink and light green, evoking a sense of romance without compromising vibrancy.

The ubiquitous blue hydrangeas elevated the class of the place, the striking contrast of the blue roses fiercely capturing guests’ attention.

All this was one thing, but the walls of the hall were plastered with photographs of Fu Han and He Xing, each one accompanied by captions.

Xia Ning glanced casually at two of them, which were filled with love letters written by He Xing to Fu Han.

Many praised He Xing’s thoughtfulness, but Xia Ning was fuming with anger. With her silver teeth nearly clenched to breaking point, had Fu Han been in front of her, Xia Ning might have done something even more dreadful.

Feeling increasingly furious, she moved to Xia Cheng’s side and whispered, "How’s everything going with the matter? Any trouble?"

"Of course not," Xia Cheng replied smugly, his delight seeping through. Even a fancy suit couldn’t disguise his sleaziness from the inside out. He stroked his chin and licked his lips, "We’ve made a deal, yeah? You’ve got to deliver Fu Han to me for a taste. If not, Bai Wei would do."

"I know, I know. Can’t you stop nagging about this all day long?" Xia Ning frowned as if she could kill a mosquito with her glare, her face clearly displaying her disdain.

Xia Cheng typically didn’t care about the ridicule, but even he had times when he couldn’t stand Xia Ning. He retorted defensively, "Like you’re any better. Isn’t your mind also preoccupied with He Xing all the time?"

Xia Ning’s face turned beet red, but she couldn’t argue because it was indeed true.

Suddenly, the hall burst into activity. It was because the host had made an appearance, warming up the crowd for the wedding ceremony to begin.

Lively music filled the air, and the crowd started to gather towards the central stage. Xia Ning got dragged by Xia Cheng, who pulled her vigorously to the front of the stage.

...

Behind the stage curtain, Fu Han felt her palms sweat. She had thought she wouldn’t be nervous, as this wedding was just to fulfill Grandpa He’s wishes.

But she was, after all, nervous. She turned to look at He Xing, who was also looking back at her.

Under the dim lights back stage, He Xing smiled and said softly, "Sorry, my palms are sweaty."

What shocked Fu Han even more than his words was the smile on He Xing’s face; he actually looked quite bashful, a side she had never seen before from him.

He Xing looked around and, finding no tissues or anything to wipe his hands on, hung his head low and looked at his sweaty palms, unsure of what to do.

Fu Han was amused by his helpless expression and opened her own palms for him to see: "It’s okay. My palms are sweaty too."

"I have an idea." Without hesitation, He Xing grabbed Fu Han’s palm, briskly wiping it on his suit sleeve, drying it instantly.

Then, without any hesitation, he wiped the sweat off his own palms on his sleeve as well.

Fu Han stared at He Xing, never having dreamed that one day He Xing would be so rough as to use his clothes to wipe sweat. She knew He Xing had OCD and would feel uncomfortable all over if his clothes got even slightly dirty, requiring an immediate change.

"There we go," He Xing said looking down at Fu Han with a particularly bright smile, "We’re both clean now. Anyway, I’m only going to wear this suit once."

All of a sudden, Fu Han felt a mischievous urge to tease He Xing. She smirked cunningly, "But I was planning to treasure your suit as a keepsake. With you doing this, how am I supposed to keep it?"

"Ah?" He Xing furrowed his brows and leaned in close to whisper, "What if I get it dry cleaned for you?"

Before Fu Han could respond, the host’s voice rang out, "Let’s welcome the bridegroom, He Xing, and the bride, Fu Han, to the stage with a round of enthusiastic applause!"

Thunderous applause erupted wave after wave.

"Ready?" He Xing extended his hand in front of Fu Han, his handsome face exuding tenderness.

"Yeah," Fu Han smiled in reply, placing her hand in his.

Their fingers naturally interlocked, as if they were always meant to be entwined.

They ascended the stairs together, step by step. Not sure whose palm was sweating again, Fu Han didn’t find it disgusting. Instead, she suddenly thought of a romantic term, "to moisten with spittle."

If their lives were destined to be spent together, wasn’t "to moisten with spittle" rather nice too?

When they stepped out from behind the curtain, there was a loud bang, and a shower of confetti burst into the air, a kaleidoscope of colors, as if they were inside a dreamy crystal ball world.