Mei Qin's gaze softened as she looked at Lin Wei, a faint smile gracing her lips. "My dear," she said, her voice carrying a newfound warmth, "perhaps love does have its own… unconventional timelines. What matters is the sincerity in your hearts, and the kindness you show to one another." She reached out and gently patted Lin Wei's hand. "Feng'er has always been… reserved with his emotions. If he has found happiness with you, then that is all that matters to this old woman."
A wave of unexpected relief washed over Lin Wei. Had she managed to convince Mei Qin? Or was the astute grandmother simply choosing to accept their narrative for the sake of her grandson's happiness? Either way, the subtle pressure of Mei Qin's scrutiny seemed to have eased, replaced by a gentle acceptance that was both comforting and slightly unsettling.
Qin Feng, who had been observing the exchange with a quiet intensity, offered his grandmother a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Nai Nai. Your blessing means the world to us." He then turned to Lin Wei, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
The focus then shifted, with Qin Feng's characteristic efficiency, to the rapidly approaching wedding. He had arranged for several renowned futuristic designers to present their visions for Lin Wei's wedding gown. The process, however, proved to be more exhausting than Lin Wei had anticipated.
One afternoon, in a private salon overlooking a shimmering vertical garden, a holographic designer, his form flickering with digital artistry, presented a series of ethereal gowns. One shimmered with interwoven fiber optics that pulsed with soft, internal light, mimicking the bioluminescence of deep-sea flora. Another cascaded with gravity-defying layers of a self-cleaning, iridescent fabric that shifted colors with her movements. A third incorporated intricate, laser-cut patterns that seemed to bloom and retract across the surface of the material.
Lin Wei found herself modeling each creation, the cool, often surprisingly lightweight, futuristic fabrics gliding against her skin. Qin Feng observed the presentations with a detached air, offering occasional, concise feedback to the designer. "The luminescence is interesting, but perhaps a more subtle pulse." "The cascading layers are elegant, but ensure they do not impede movement." His focus seemed primarily on the aesthetic and practical aspects, the emotional significance of the garment seemingly absent.
Hours blurred into a succession of fabric swatches, holographic projections, and minute adjustments. Lin Wei, despite her initial fascination with the innovative designs, began to feel a weariness seep into her bones. The constant changing, the endless scrutiny under the designer's critical eye and Qin Feng's detached gaze, left her feeling like a mannequin in a high-tech display.
During one fitting, as she stood before a full-length holographic mirror in a gown woven from shimmering, memory-weave threads that adapted to her form with fluid grace, Qin Feng finally offered a more personal observation. "The lines of this one suit you, Ms. Lin Wei. Elegant and… understated."
Understated. The word hung in the air. Was that his genuine opinion, or simply a reflection of his own reserved nature? Lin Wei sighs saying "Finally.. something is your
liking" she met his gaze in the holographic reflection, searching for any hint of genuine emotion, but his expression remained carefully neutral.
As the designer made further adjustments, the memory of Mei Qin's words echoed in Lin Wei's mind: "Love should not feel like a 'step,' child. It should feel like… a natural unfolding." This entire process – the orchestrated engagement, the public pronouncements, the meticulous planning of this futuristic spectacle – felt anything but natural. It felt like a series of carefully calculated steps, each one designed to maintain the illusion.
Later that evening, after another grueling gown fitting, Lin Wei returned to her apartment, the soft glow of Kai's interface a welcome sight. She sank onto the modular sofa, the self-adjusting cushions molding to her tired form.
"You seem fatigued, Lin Wei," Kai observed, its soothing voice a gentle counterpoint to the whirlwind of the day.
"Exhausted," Lin Wei admitted, closing her eyes. "Wedding gowns of the future are apparently as demanding as designing a gravity-defying skyscraper."
A wry smile touched her lips despite her weariness. The irony of the situation was almost comical. She, a fiercely independent architect, was being meticulously dressed for a wedding that was, at its core, a carefully constructed lie. And the man she was about to publicly commit her life to, for however long their contract stipulated, observed the process with the same detached focus he applied to his business ventures.
She wondered, not for the first time, what Qin Feng truly thought of all this. Did he see her as simply a means to an end, a necessary component in appeasing his grandmother and fulfilling a public image? Or was there, perhaps, a flicker of something more beneath his reserved exterior, a recognition of her beyond the terms of their agreement?
As she drifted towards sleep, the soft hum of the city a distant lullaby, Lin Wei couldn't shake the feeling that she was a player on a grand, futuristic stage, meticulously costumed for a role she hadn't auditioned for, her true feelings hidden beneath layers of shimmering, memory-weave fabric and carefully rehearsed smiles. The grandmother's blessing had eased one source of pressure, but the weight of the approaching spectacle, and the lingering doubts in her own heart, remained a heavy burden.