Work Text:
In eleven years of working as a wedding planner, Lin Xia had learned one very important thing: never believe anything newspapers wrote about rich people.
She had learned that from the daughter of the owner of the largest hotel chain in the southern part of the country, who, according to the press, was marrying her fiancé after a romantic seven-year relationship, when in reality she had met her future husband only five months earlier at a party where he had accidentally spilled champagne all over her dress. Whatever had happened between them that night remained a mystery, but the wedding planner distinctly remembered that the bride’s gown had needed to be let out twice.
She had learned it from a certain famous actor whose wedding was supposedly going to be a modest ceremony for immediate family, only to ultimately require renting out two hotels, closing an entire private beach, and importing six thousand white roses from overseas.
Most importantly, however, she had learned that whenever truly rich people asked for an intimate ceremony, it usually meant no fewer than five hundred guests.
Which was why, when her assistant walked into her office at eight seventeen in the morning, closed the door behind her, and announced:
“Sheng Shaoyou is getting married.”
Lin Xia didn’t even look up from her coffee.
“Mhm. Prepare a congratulations card.”
“We’re organizing it.”
Lin Xia looked up.
Chen Mei stood in front of her desk, clutching her tablet in both hands.
“What?”
“His secretary called seven minutes ago.”
“Sheng Shaoyou?”
“The Sheng Shaoyou. President of ShengFang Group.”
Lin Xia set down her mug.
There were certain names that required no introduction among people working in luxury events.
Sheng was one of them.
Old money, pharmaceuticals, biotechnology, investments, real estate, and enough family scandals for tabloids to keep entire editorial departments employed on that surname alone. Well, Sheng Fang had spent many years working very hard to ensure that his name certainly wouldn’t die with him, considering the number of illegitimate children rumored to exist over the decades.
And Sheng Shaoyou was, of course, the most recognizable member of the family—the only son Sheng Fang had had with his late wife.
S-class Alpha.
President.
Rich.
Handsome.
Arrogant, according to anonymous employees.
Obscenely arrogant, according to former business partners.
Apparently quite decent, according to one article Lin Xia hadn’t read because it was behind a paywall.
And, most importantly…
“With whom?” she asked quickly.
Chen Mei looked at her as though she had just asked whether the sky was, in fact, blue.
“Hua Yong.”
Ah.
That problem.
The Omega he had been seen with publicly for the past several months. The one who had once been the assistant of his greatest rival. The one who now worked at ShengFang.
Lin Xia slowly reached for her coffee.
“Of course.”
She already knew this was not going to be an easy or pleasant wedding to organize.
+++
Lin Xia devoted the first half hour of preparation for the meeting to professional research.
She devoted the next half hour to trying to determine why professional research had somehow left her knowing less than she had before.
According to the first search result, Hua Yong was an Omega.
According to the second, he was an exceptionally high-ranking Omega.
According to the third, he was a poor Omega whom Sheng Shaoyou had met by chance and fallen in love with against his family’s expectations.
According to the fourth, he wasn’t poor.
According to the fifth, he was absurdly wealthy.
According to the sixth, he didn’t work at all.
According to the seventh, he worked at HS Group for Shen Wenlang.
According to the eighth, he controlled assets worth enough money that Lin Xia put down her phone and stared at the wall for a while.
According to the ninth, he was delicate.
According to the tenth, he was from Country P.
According to the eleventh, he had been kidnapped.
According to the twelfth, he had probably orchestrated half the events leading to his own kidnapping.
Lin Xia closed the browser.
“Mei…”
“Mhm?”
“What do we actually know about Hua Yong?”
Chen Mei was sitting across the conference table, conducting exactly the same research and apparently experiencing exactly the same existential crisis.
“He’s beautiful.”
“That is not useful information when planning a wedding.”
“He’s very beautiful.”
“Mei.”
“He’s an Omega.”
Lin Xia looked at her.
Chen Mei looked at the screen.
“I think,” she added hesitantly.
“You think?” Lin Xia repeated.
“The internet is divided.”
“How can the internet be divided over the secondary gender of a grown man?”
Chen Mei turned the tablet around.
On the screen was a forum post with three thousand two hundred comments and the title:
HUA YONG IS NOT AN OMEGA AND I HAVE PROOF [PART 4]
Lin Xia stared at the screen for several seconds.
“Don’t even read that.”
“But…” Mei tried to argue, only for her boss to cut her off.
“We are not reading part four of a conspiracy theory before meeting a client.”
Chen Mei sighed.
“The first three were pretty convincing.”
+++
Hua Yong came alone.
That was the first surprise.
The second was that he really was very beautiful.
Lin Xia had worked with models, actors, celebrities, and people whose faces regularly appeared on three-story billboards, so she considered herself relatively immune to beauty.
Hua Yong, however, possessed that particular kind of face that made a person understand why photographers took pictures of him even when he was doing nothing more interesting than getting out of a car.
Delicate features.
Calm eyes.
A gentle smile.
Omega, Lin Xia thought automatically.
And immediately felt guilty because she had spent part of the morning reading articles about how irritating male Omegas found it when people judged them based on appearance.
“Mr. Hua.”
She stood to greet him with the appropriate respect.
“Thank you for making the time. I’m Lin Xia. I’ll be personally overseeing the preparations.”
“I know.”
Hua Yong smiled at her.
“I looked into you.”
Lin Xia hesitated.
Usually, she was the one telling clients that she had looked into their requirements.
“I hope I passed the test.”
“Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
He said it gently.
Very gently.
Lin Xia had no idea why, but something in her brain immediately filed that information under WARNING.
Hua Yong sat down.
“Mr. Sheng will be late.”
“Of course.”
Lin Xia had seen more than one future husband dump all wedding preparations onto his future wife’s shoulders. Nothing surprised her anymore. She kept her expression calm and nonjudgmental.
“Not because he doesn’t want to be here,” Hua Yong immediately added.
Lin Xia blinked.
“Of course,” she assured him, trying to look a little friendlier than before. She wasn’t sure whether her composed attitude had come across as too stern to the Omega. As a Beta, she genuinely struggled sometimes when dealing with Omegas; being unable to sense their pheromones was a minor inconvenience, but one that nevertheless made her job more difficult.
“He has a board meeting.”
“I understand.”
“He wanted to cancel it.”
Lin Xia wasn’t entirely sure why she needed to know this.
Hua Yong, apparently, had decided that she did.
“I told him not to.”
“Very sensible.”
“He sulked.”
Lin Xia looked at him.
Hua Yong took a sip of tea.
“Mr. Sheng?”
“Mhm.”
“Sulks?”
Hua Yong smiled.
“He does that often.”
Lin Xia thought of Sheng Shaoyou, whom she had only ever seen in business photographs: always in a dark suit, always wearing the cold expression of a man who could shut down a company before lunch and forget about it by dinner.
In the margin, she wrote:
Mr. Sheng — meetings in the afternoon?
She did not write:
sulks.
She had professional standards.
“Let’s start with the basics, then. Have you already decided on a date?”
“Shaoyou wants autumn.”
“And you?” she asked calmly.
“Shaoyou wants autumn.”
Lin Xia raised an eyebrow slightly.
Hua Yong smiled again.
“I want whatever Shaoyou wants.”
That was sweet.
Really.
Dangerously disproportionate and worryingly devoid of personal agency in a way that should probably prompt her to arrange a discreet conversation with a psychologist to make sure Omega Hua Yong wasn’t trapped by his Alpha in an unhealthy relationship.
But still.
Sweet.
Lin Xia wrote down: autumn.
“Number of guests?”
“A small ceremony.”
Lin Xia mentally prepared herself.
A small ceremony never meant anything good, especially when spoken by someone for whom thirty million could reasonably be considered pocket money.
“Approximately how many people?”
“Eighty.”
Her pen stopped above the paper.
“Eighty?”
“Too many?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
Lin Xia was dangerously close to becoming emotional.
Finally.
A rich person who understood the meaning of the word small.
“Shaoyou doesn’t like crowds,” Hua Yong explained. “Besides, I see no reason to invite people we dislike simply because they’d like to say they attended our wedding.”
Lin Xia liked him immediately.
“I agree.”
“Excellent. That’s why I hired you.”
We hired you, Lin Xia corrected silently.
She didn’t say it aloud.
“So, immediate family and friends?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Sheng’s family?”
“Yes. His father and three half-siblings.”
Lin Xia wrote the appropriate number beside Sheng Shaoyou’s name, then looked up at the Omega.
“Your family?”
Hua Yong stopped smiling.
It wasn’t a dramatic change.
It was so slight that if Lin Xia hadn’t spent eleven years watching people negotiate guest lists involving divorced parents, estranged siblings, and aunts who hadn’t spoken since 1998 because of a misunderstanding involving a necklace, she probably wouldn’t have noticed.
“We’ll see.”
Lin Xia placed a small star beside family.
She didn’t ask further.
Instead, she moved on to decorations.
“Flowers?”
“Orchids.”
Of course.
She had read online that Hua Yong’s pheromones were described by people knowledgeable on the subject as ghost orchid. She would have to visit a florist later to figure out what that actually meant.
“White?”
Hua Yong wrinkled his nose.
“I don’t want it to look like a funeral.”
Another tiny note that would later prove worth more than gold and diamonds.
“Colors?”
“Shaoyou prefers darker shades…”
“Navy? Green? Burgundy?”
“You’ll show us some options.”
Us.
Lin Xia felt an odd little spark of satisfaction.
“Of course. Will you need help choosing wedding rings?”
“We already have them.”
“Suits?”
“We have a designer.”
“Cake?”
Hua Yong considered it.
“Shaoyou doesn’t like things that are too sweet.”
“One bakery we’ve worked with in the past specializes in cakes with very delicate, refined flavor profiles while still offering a wide variety of options. We can arrange a tasting.”
“That sounds good.”
“Alcohol?”
“Yes, but… something with a low alcohol content.”
The Omega’s hand shifted nervously over his stomach.
The wedding planner quickly drew a tiny cabbage in the corner of the page.
Oh.
This could be the wedding of the year.
“Pheromone comfort zones?”
It was a standard question. Practically mandatory for ABO weddings, especially if several dozen unrelated Alphas and Omegas were going to be gathered in one room.
Neutralizers, ventilation, private rooms, scent inhibitors—everything required advance planning.
Hua Yong tilted his head.
“Prepare the standard precautions.”
“Of course. We’ll also need the secondary-gender classifications of the closest members of the ceremony so we can configure the zones appropriately. We have your information listed as Omega, so—”
The door opened.
“Enigma.”
Lin Xia turned her head.
Her lips parted slightly, but before she could actually ask the question, Sheng Shaoyou walked into the conference room, removing his coat.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Lin Xia stared at him.
Then at Hua Yong.
Then back at Sheng Shaoyou.
“I’m sorry?” she finally asked.
Shaoyou stopped beside Hua Yong’s chair and, entirely automatically, placed a hand on the back of his neck.
“Hua Yong is an Enigma,” Sheng Shaoyou replied as though this were the most ordinary statement in the world.
Silence.
Lin Xia could hear the air conditioning.
Somewhere beyond the wall, someone moved a chair.
Hua Yong calmly drank his tea.
She cleared her throat.
“I see,” she finally said.
She did not see.
She understood absolutely nothing.
“In the documents we received…” she began, attempting to return to the previous topic.
“Outdated information,” Shaoyou said.
“Of course.”
Lin Xia crossed out Omega.
She wrote Enigma.
She stared at the word.
Then at Hua Yong again.
Delicate features.
Gentle smile.
Hands calmly folded together.
HUA YONG IS NOT AN OMEGA AND I HAVE PROOF [PART 4].
Chen Mei was going to kill her.
“Does that require different precautions?” Lin Xia asked, because she was a professional, and professionalism was currently the only thing standing between her and pulling out her phone to read all four parts of the conspiracy theory.
“No,” Hua Yong said.
“Yes,” Shaoyou said at the exact same time.
Hua Yong looked up.
Shaoyou looked down.
“No.”
“A-Yong.”
“Shaoyou.”
Lin Xia lowered her gaze to the documents.
She wasn’t here.
She was furniture.
Very expensive furniture.
Furniture that was absolutely not listening to a conversation it had no business hearing.
“Last time…”
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“Last time you said exactly the same thing.”
“And nothing happened.”
“You fainted.”
“That had nothing to do with my classification.”
“Your nose was bleeding,” Shaoyou insisted, and the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t backing down.
“Shaoyou.”
“What?”
Hua Yong sighed.
And then he did something Lin Xia absolutely had not expected from a man newspapers described as a ruthless businessman controlling enormous assets and probably capable of destroying a competitor without ever raising his voice.
She still had no idea which articles were true, but considering the fact that her most basic information regarding the man’s secondary gender had just been proven wrong, she had decided to believe everything she read until specifically informed otherwise.
Hua Yong reached out.
Caught two of Shaoyou’s fingers.
And tugged lightly.
“Sit.”
Shaoyou sat beside him.
Immediately.
Without even a second of hesitation.
Lin Xia looked at her notes.
She added:
additional precautions — determine later.
She didn’t dare write anything else.
+++
“ENIGMA?!”
“Lower your voice.”
“I told you!”
“You did not.”
“I told you the theory was convincing!”
“You said the internet was divided.”
Chen Mei nearly threw the tablet.
“I knew it.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I felt it.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“What did he look like?”
Lin Xia sighed.
“Like an Omega.”
“Xia!”
“I know! I know I shouldn’t say that. But that’s exactly what he looks like. A delicate, innocent, sweet Omega. That’s why everyone believed it.”
Chen Mei pulled her chair closer.
“And Sheng Shaoyou?”
Lin Xia was silent for a moment.
“He sulks.”
Chen Mei frowned.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
+++
Over the next three weeks, Lin Xia discovered that there were three versions of Hua Yong.
The first was the one known to the public.
A beautiful Omega who had captured the heart of one of the most desirable Alphas in the country.
That version was completely false.
The second was the one known to the business world.
Hua Yong, Enigma, the man behind X Holdings, unofficial ruler of Country P, intelligent, patient, and considerably more dangerous than his face suggested.
That version was true.
Probably.
The third was the version known to Sheng Shaoyou.
And that version was the most ridiculous of them all.
“Shaoyou, look.”
“I’m looking,” the Alpha replied patiently.
“You’re not looking.”
“Yong, I’m reading the contract.”
“You can read it later.”
“It’s a contract for our wedding.”
“Exactly. Which means you can read it later. Choose the napkins first.”
Lin Xia stood two meters away holding three fabric samples.
Sheng Shaoyou closed the document.
“That one.”
“You didn’t even look.” The Enigma sulked.
“I looked.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yong.” Sheng Shaoyou sighed, his voice sounding… tired.
“The one on the left is cream, the middle one is pearl, and the one on the right…” Hua Yong began explaining.
“They’re all white,” Shaoyou cut him off.
Hua Yong looked deeply offended.
“They are not.”
“They are.”
“Mr. Sheng,” Lin Xia said cautiously, “there actually is a slight difference.”
Shaoyou looked at her.
Then at the napkins.
Then at Hua Yong.
“The middle one.”
Hua Yong immediately smiled.
“That’s the one I chose too.”
Shaoyou stared at him for a second.
“Then why did you ask me?”
“I wanted to know whether you’d choose the right one.”
“And if I’d chosen the wrong one?”
“You wouldn’t.”
Apparently, that concluded the discussion.
Lin Xia wrote down the sample number.
She was beginning to understand why Sheng Shaoyou always looked tired.
She was also beginning to understand why, despite that exhaustion, every time he looked at Hua Yong, he did so as though there was nothing else in the world he would rather be looking at.
+++
The rumors began a month before the wedding.
Not rumors about the engagement, of course.
Everyone already knew about that.
The problem was that someone had found out about the preparations.
The first article:
WEDDING OF THE YEAR: SHENG SHAOYOU TO MARRY MYSTERIOUS OMEGA?
The second:
FROM SECRETARY TO BILLIONAIRE’S SPOUSE: “WHO IS HUA YONG REALLY?”
The third:
SOURCE: SHENG FAMILY OPPOSES MARRIAGE
The fourth:
IS HUA YONG PREGNANT?
Lin Xia read that last one twice.
Then she called Hua Yong.
“Mr. Hua.”
“Yes?”
“I need to ask you something slightly personal,” she began, carefully choosing words that wouldn’t offend an Enigma.
“Am I pregnant?”
Lin Xia closed her eyes.
She took a deep breath and counted to three.
“So you’ve seen the article.”
Hua Yong laughed softly.
“Shaoyou showed me.”
“I see.”
“I’m not.”
“Thank you. I only needed the information for organizational reasons. If there were any health considerations, we would have to—”
“Lin Xia.”
“Yes?”
“I’m an Enigma.”
“I have been informed.”
“Shaoyou is an Alpha.”
“Of course.”
A brief silence followed.
“So if either one of us were going to be pregnant…”
He didn’t finish.
He didn’t need to.
Lin Xia possessed a functioning brain, and even if it took her slightly longer than she would ever admit, even she could connect all the dots into the appropriate picture.
Lin Xia froze.
“Oh.”
“Mhm.”
“Oh.”
Laughter sounded from the other end.
“Please don’t publish that,” he threatened, although his voice remained unmistakably amused.
“Mr. Hua!”
“I’m joking.”
Lin Xia wasn’t sure.
After weeks of knowing Hua Yong, she had learned that she was never sure when he was joking.
She only knew that it was better to watch her words and tread carefully whenever Sheng Shaoyou was nearby. Around his Alpha, Hua Yong never did anything inappropriate, never behaved maliciously or improperly.
But Lin Xia knew he never forgot anything.
And when his Alpha wasn’t around…
The Enigma settled accounts.
+++
The worst rumor appeared a week later.
SHENG SHAOYOU FORCED INTO MARRIAGE?
Lin Xia read the article over breakfast.
According to an anonymous source close to the Sheng family, Hua Yong had supposedly used his position within X Holdings to force Sheng Shaoyou into the relationship.
Lin Xia thought about Sheng Shaoyou, who the previous day had spent forty minutes trying to convince Hua Yong that the evening temperature could drop by three degrees and therefore the ceremony should be moved indoors because Hua Yong “got cold easily.”
She thought about Sheng Shaoyou bringing him tea.
About Sheng Shaoyou always pulling out his chair for him.
About Sheng Shaoyou silently swapping his cake plate with Hua Yong’s during the tasting because Hua Yong preferred his flavor.
About Sheng Shaoyou remembering that Hua Yong disliked one particular type of flower even though Lin Xia herself had forgotten.
Yes.
He looked absolutely terribly coerced.
The rehearsal was scheduled for ten.
Hua Yong arrived first.
“Did you read it?”
Lin Xia sighed.
“Yes.”
“Shaoyou is furious.”
“I can imagine.”
“He wants to sue the newspaper.”
“I understand.”
“I told him it wasn’t worth it.”
“That’s sensible.”
Hua Yong smiled.
“So I bought the newspaper.”
Lin Xia froze.
“What?”
“The publishing company.”
“You bought…”
“It wasn’t particularly expensive,” the Enigma replied, looking pleased with himself.
Lin Xia stared at him.
Hua Yong adjusted his cuff.
“I don’t like people saying I force Shaoyou to do things he doesn’t want to do.”
“Of course.”
“It’s insulting.”
“To you?”
“To him. Shaoyou is very stubborn.”
Lin Xia thought that, of everything currently happening in this conversation, that was the least significant issue.
Then the door opened.
“A-Yong.”
Hua Yong turned.
And changed.
Lin Xia had seen it before, but every time it was equally strange.
It wasn’t a dramatic transformation.
His shoulders simply relaxed a little.
His smile stopped being polite.
His eyes grew warmer.
“Finished?”
“Mhm.”
Shaoyou walked over to him.
“Did you eat?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Hua Yong fell silent.
Shaoyou narrowed his eyes.
“Hua Yong.”
“I drank coffee.”
“That isn’t food.”
“It had milk in it.”
“A-Yong.” Sheng Shaoyou sighed, visibly exhausted by his partner.
Lin Xia turned toward the decorations.
That ribbon clearly needed adjusting.
“Let’s check the chair arrangement one more time,” she told her assistant when Chen Mei approached.
She had already learned to recognize the moments when it was best to simply stop existing.
The couple in love didn’t even notice her disappearance.
+++
Two days before the wedding, Chen Mei found another post.
“Xia.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“If you start in that tone, I don’t want to know.”
“Someone made a timeline of their relationship.”
Lin Xia slowly raised her head.
“How detailed?”
“Very.”
It was tempting.
Horribly tempting.
“We are professionals.”
“There’s a diagram.”
“No.”
“With the exact point where Sheng Shaoyou probably found out Hua Yong was an Enigma.”
“Mei.”
“And a separate section titled ‘times Hua Yong pretended to be a helpless Omega.’”
Lin Xia held out her hand.
“Give me that.”
If Mei handed over the promised timeline and Lin Xia accepted it with a delighted smile, no one besides the two of them ever needed to know.
+++
It rained on the wedding day.
Not heavily.
A gentle rain covered the garden in a delicate mist, droplets gathering on leaves and orchids while the air smelled of ozone.
For months, Lin Xia had been afraid of everything.
Rain.
Press leaks.
Family conflicts.
Ventilation failures.
Pheromones.
Enigmas.
Alphas.
And one particularly aggressive half-brother of Sheng Shaoyou who had ultimately been removed from the guest list.
And yet everything was perfect.
Eighty-two chairs.
Orchids.
Pearl napkins.
Dark green and gold.
No journalists.
No disasters.
Lin Xia stood off to the side, checking the schedule one final time, when she saw Sheng Shaoyou.
He was already standing at the end of the aisle.
He didn’t look like the president of ShengFang Group.
He didn’t look like an S-class Alpha.
He didn’t look like the man from the articles.
He simply looked like a man waiting for the person he loved.
And then Hua Yong appeared.
Over the past few months, Lin Xia had seen him dozens of times.
She had seen him calm, irritated, amused.
She had watched him negotiate prices, choose flowers, straighten Shaoyou’s tie, and once spend five full minutes convincing him that they did not need bodyguards stationed outside the restroom.
But she had never seen him like this.
Hua Yong looked only at Sheng Shaoyou.
Not at the decorations.
Not at the guests.
Not at the family.
At him.
Shaoyou took one step forward.
The officiant discreetly gestured for him to stay where he was.
Shaoyou stopped.
Hua Yong laughed.
Several guests did too.
Lin Xia covered her mouth with one hand.
Of course.
Of course the man who had spent the past two months checking every detail of the ceremony couldn’t wait another thirty seconds.
When Hua Yong finally reached him, Shaoyou immediately took his hand.
“You’re late,” he said quietly.
“Two minutes.”
“Two minutes is late.”
“Did you miss me?”
“A-Yong.”
Hua Yong’s smile widened.
Lin Xia shouldn’t have been listening.
She definitely shouldn’t have.
But she was standing close enough.
“You missed me,” Hua Yong concluded.
Shaoyou squeezed his hand.
“Shut up.”
And that was when Lin Xia finally understood something no article had managed to explain.
The internet had spent months trying to figure out who Hua Yong was.
Omega.
Enigma.
Alpha.
Manipulator.
Victim.
Businessman.
Secretary.
A man who had planned everything.
A man who had fallen in love too hard.
Every rumor tried to fit him into a single category, as though finding the right word would somehow explain the entire story.
Lin Xia knew now that none of them were enough.
Hua Yong was an Enigma.
He was dangerous.
He was absurdly intelligent.
He could buy an entire newspaper because he disliked an article.
He could also spend twenty minutes choosing napkins simply because he wanted Shaoyou to choose the same one.
And Sheng Shaoyou…
Well.
Sheng Shaoyou was an Alpha.
A powerful, proud, stubborn S-class Alpha.
Who was currently looking at his future husband with tears in his eyes.
Lin Xia smiled.
Chen Mei, standing beside her, noticed too.
“Is he crying?” she whispered.
“Don’t look.”
“Sheng Shaoyou is crying.”
“Mei.”
“I have to tell the people on the forum.”
Lin Xia smacked her arm with the schedule.
“Try it and I’ll fire you.”
Chen Mei fell silent.
For all of seven seconds.
“Do you think Hua Yong really planned everything from the beginning?”
Lin Xia looked at the couple.
Hua Yong was running his thumb over Shaoyou’s hand, soothing him before they exchanged their vows.
“Yes.”
“Everything?”
Lin Xia considered it.
“Almost.”
Because that was another thing she had learned over the past few months.
Hua Yong liked controlling the world.
He planned.
He anticipated.
He moved people and events precisely where he wanted them.
Perhaps he had even planned that one day he would stand in front of Sheng Shaoyou, dressed in a suit made specifically for him, surrounded by orchids, with a ring waiting for his finger.
But Lin Xia saw his face when Shaoyou spoke his vows.
She saw the moment Hua Yong’s fingers tightened around his hand.
She saw the moisture gathering in his eyes and the way, for several seconds, that calm, all-knowing smile disappeared.
He hadn’t planned that.
He couldn’t have.
“Almost,” she repeated.
+++
Three days later, Lin Xia found a box on her desk.
Inside were flowers, a bottle of very expensive wine, and a card.
Thank you for your patience.
Signed:
Hua Yong & Sheng Shaoyou
Underneath, in different handwriting, someone had added:
Sorry about Hua Yong.
And beneath that:
Don’t apologize for me on our thank-you card.
Lin Xia stared at it for a long moment.
Then she took a picture.
Chen Mei replied seven seconds later.
CAN I POST IT ON THE FORUM???
Lin Xia typed:
No.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Without names?
No.
Can I at least tell them Enigmas really exist?
Lin Xia put down her phone.
A moment later, it vibrated again.
Xia…
Then:
XIA…
And finally:
YOU CAN’T IGNORE ME, I AM A WITNESS TO HISTORY
Lin Xia took a sip of coffee.
A new client form was open on her computer screen.
At the very top was a field:
Secondary gender classification of the engaged couple.
Alpha.
Beta.
Omega.
Lin Xia sighed and wrote to IT.
Please add Enigma to the secondary-gender classification options on the wedding client form.
She hesitated.
Then added:
Just in case.
After all, she certainly wasn’t going to explain to anyone what exactly she had accidentally become a witness to.