My Husband Is My Fiancee's Uncle

The dining hall of the Liang residence buzzed with warm chatter and quiet elegance. Guests flowed in like silk, dressed in muted tones of wealth, their laughter soft and composed. White lilies filled every corner of the room. There was nothing too grand, nothing too modest-just enough to whisper status without shouting it.

Liang Meiyu stood near the entrance, wrapped in a pale pink dress that hugged her softly, her fingers loosely clasped in front of her. She had never liked crowds, but today she smiled through it all. A soft, practiced smile, the kind that didn't reach her eyes but was polite enough for cameras and relatives.

"There she is," someone whispered. "Jinyuan is lucky."

Her best friend, Zhou Xinyi, leaned in beside her, clutching a glass of something sparkling. "You look like you belong in a drama, Meimei," she said with a wink. "Pretty, polite, and probably dying inside."

Meiyu chuckled, grateful for the levity. "I'm fine. Really."

"You're fine, but where is your prince?" Xinyi scanned the room. "Isn't he supposed to make a grand entrance and kiss your hand or something?"

Meiyu gave a small shrug. "He said he might be a little late."

Late. That word lingered.

Her phone buzzed in her clutch. A message from Jinyuan: "Busy with some things. Don't wait for me. I'll be there soon."

She tucked the phone away and straightened her posture.

Xinyi eyed her carefully but didn't push. Instead, she offered her a bite of cake. "Eat something. Your stomach doesn't run on love."

When Jinyuan did arrive, he entered like someone who knew the room belonged to him. Tailored suit, one hand in his pocket, the other waving politely. He approached Meiyu with a smile and placed a gentle hand on her lower back.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, just loud enough for others to hear. Then, quieter, "This was your idea anyway."

Meiyu only nodded. The photographer asked them to pose, and they did-his hand on her waist, her chin tilted just slightly. They looked perfect.

Later in the evening, Meilin, Meiyu's younger sister, made her way to their table. Dressed in crimson, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor, she leaned close and said, "I hope you're ready for life in the Li family, Jie. They don't make it easy for outsiders."

It sounded like advice, but something in her tone felt like a warning.

Meiyu gave a soft smile. "I'll manage."

She didn't notice Jinyuan glance briefly at Meilin as she walked away.

The night ended without incident. Toasts were made, photos taken, and promises exchanged in low, polite tones.

By the time Meiyu returned to her room, her heels were off, and her body ached. But her heart was full. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked down at her phone. No new messages from Jinyuan.

Still, she smiled.

The next morning, sunlight spilled into the kitchen as Meiyu tied her apron behind her back. She had woken early, energized by something quiet and warm inside her. She had decided to surprise Jinyuan with lunch.

She knew his favorite dish: steamed fish with ginger and scallions, jasmine rice on the side. Simple but comforting. The kind of meal that said, I know you, even when you're silent.

She packed it carefully, wrapping everything in a navy-blue cloth before placing it into a lacquered box. As she stepped out of the house, her phone buzzed.

Xinyi: _"You're going to his place? Hope he's wearing pants."

Meiyu laughed and replied: "It's just lunch. I won't stay long."

She didn't tell Jinyuan she was coming. She wanted it to feel genuine. Not scheduled, not arranged. Just something a fiancée would do.

The drive was short. The building's security recognized her and let her in with a polite nod. She entered the elevator, adjusted her grip on the lunchbox, and smoothed down her skirt. Her reflection in the mirrored walls looked calm. A woman with purpose.

When she reached the apartment, she used the key he had given her months ago. A small, symbolic gesture she had treasured. It still felt special.

The door opened easily. Inside, everything was quiet.

She stepped into the sitting room, removing her shoes.

There on the couch she saw a red bag she knew quite well wasn't hers.

It sat on the edge of the couch, one strap flopped over the armrest. A silk scarf was tied to it-cream, gold, floral.

She paused. Her grip on the lunchbox tightened.

"Jinyuan?" she called.

No response.

Her eyes moved around the room. A pair of heels half-hidden near the corner. Light footsteps upstairs.

She didn't speak again. She headed upstairs trying to be positive about everything she was seeing, not daring to believe the thoughts in her head.

Quietly, slowly, up the stairs.

The hallway was bright from a skylight. The master bedroom door was ajar. As she approached, voices filtered through.

A laugh, followed by a breathless whisper.

Still, she pushed the door open.