Sir, You've Got The Wrong Person - Chapter 2.1

“First bow to Heaven and Earth!”

A serious and loud voice echoed. Yan Yiyi suddenly felt something warm behind her. A warm hand gently pressed on her back. With a little force, it made her bow forward.

“Second bow to the parents!”

That hand pressed again, and in the cheers of the crowd, Yan Yiyi bowed once more, even though she didn’t want to—her face under the red veil turned bright red with anger at being forced to bow like this. The man beside her must be crazy about getting married. He didn’t even see her clearly and just rushed through the wedding. Her whole body was stiff—only her eyes could still move. (“I wouldn’t forgive that woman!”) She thought angrily.

“Husband and wife bow to each other!” A hand helped her turn around a little.

The man in front of her seemed to signal the matchmaker. An old pair of hands reached out and pressed her back, then the other held her hand. She was pushed to bow to the man across from her.

“Send them to the bridal chamber!”

With many greetings around her, the matchmaker helped Yan Yiyi, who still had a red face, into the bridal room with the man.

“Congratulations to Young Master Chu and the Lady. Wishing you a long and happy marriage with many children!” the matchmaker said cheerfully as she helped Yan Yiyi sit on the bed.

“Thank you,” the man said lazily. His voice was deep. It seemed like he gave the matchmaker a red envelope. Then the matchmaker left happily and closed the door behind them.

The room became quiet.

 Yan Yiyi couldn’t see clearly because of the veil, but she could feel his stare. It wasn’t harsh, but it made her nervous—like she was sitting on pins and needles.

She didn’t know how much time had passed. The man finally put down his teacup and walked slowly to the bed. His long fingers lifted a corner of the red veil. Seeing those fair and beautiful fingers, Yan Yiyi held her breath. His hands were too perfect.

He lifted the red veil very slowly, with graceful movements.

When the veil was completely lifted, Yan Yiyi looked up on instinct. She saw a handsome face with a faint smile on his lips but no warmth in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, and her eyes and mouth widened at what she saw.

“Miss Yan, what a coincidence, isn’t it?” he said with a charming smile. As he spoke, his hands calmly touched her pressure point. His voice changed from lazy and deep to the gentle one she heard earlier in the woods.

“You… You… Why is it you?!”

The shock was too much. Yan Yiyi stepped back, pointing at him. She had spent the whole morning running from this man while holding her injured chest. Now, he was right in front of her—and she had just married him?!

He looked at her calmly and raised his eyebrow. His voice turned lazy again: “Why can’t it be me? Today is the wedding of the eldest Young Master Chu. As the groom, shouldn’t I be here?”

His simple words hit her like a bomb. Yan Yiyi’s hands trembled slightly as she leaned back. Her voice shook too: “You… You mean… you are Chu Mufeng? The famous playboy? No… That’s just a cover, isn’t it…?” Yan Yiyi swallowed nervously; she looked at him with cautious eyes.

Chu Mufeng’s smile widened and curled into an even more playful grin.

Leaning in close to her, Chu Mufeng’s long fingers lightly brushed against her delicate face. His voice carried a teasing tone as he said, “Just a what? Go ahead, finish what you were going to say.”

A chill ran down Yan Yiyi’s spine, even as his touch felt warm and dry on her skin. After a pause, she managed to force a smile and replied, “Um, Young Master Chu, let’s talk about this calmly. I mean, being a playboy isn’t that bad, is it?”

Chu Mufeng gave her a faint smile, his hand, which had been affectionately caressing her face, traced down her beautifully contoured jawline, lingering on her delicate neck. 

Yan Yiyi held her breath, staring at the hand on her neck, knowing that if he tightened his grip…

“Such a young and beautiful face; it’s really a shame to have it ruined like this.”

Just as the lazy, teasing voice brushed past her ear, Chu Mufeng’s calm black eyes suddenly narrowed; a flash of murderous intent appeared within them. His hand, which had been resting on her neck, suddenly tightened—as if ready to strangle her.

But Yan Yiyi was prepared. She quickly leaned back, barely dodging his grip, and instinctively kicked her leg up at him.

Chu Mufeng had seen it coming. The moment her right foot rose, he reached out to catch it mid-air. In response, Yan Yiyi pressed a hand against the bedframe and twisted her body with practiced agility, tapping the edge of the bed with her foot to vault herself away. She was just about to land gracefully off the bed when she felt a sharp tug at her waist—somehow, the hem of her wedding gown had ended up in Chu Mufeng’s grasp.

Startled, she turned to look at him. Chu Mufeng met her gaze with a cool, unreadable look, then pulled hard on the fabric. With a loud rip, the red wedding gown she was wearing was torn apart.

Yan Yiyi saw her wedding dress being torn to shreds; she didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the shredded fabric, leapt forward, and rushed toward the window, ready to make her escape.