Fragments

Cold Shoulder

"You're an idiot."

The first words Daoming Shancai had spoken to her husband in literally hours, and they were sharp as a wicked blade. Typical of the freshly crowned Mrs. Daoming, really. One month and 3 days married, but who was counting? It didn't matter how the youngest Daoming (scratch that, he was actually the second youngest now) attached himself to the former Miss Dong Shancai, some things never changed, not that he was complaining. His delectable wife was still the same feisty little tiger cub he had initially fallen in love with, and even marriage to the besotted Daoming Si couldn't tame her. No, she was still his spirited, pint sized little dictator and he absolutely loved the bones of her. His lovely, infuriating, totally darling but completely maddening wife. He adored her more than life itself, heavens only knew, but she certainly possessed the uncanny ability to drive him insane with as little as a calculated silence or a mere look. Did everyone feel like this intensely about their spouse, or was Daoming Si just floundering in the deep end without a life jacket? Shancai was positively brimming with life, she had such inner fire and zest - he wouldn't change a single thing about her. She was exquisitely perfect and his soulmate in every way. But he did wish he knew why she was livid with him this time. The night had been going so well....or so he had thought.

At the unexpected request of his formidable mother, Shancai had accompanied her new husband to the Doaming Group's annual fundraiser, a dull event crawling with sycophants and cunning opportunists. Ah Si had been inclined to argue, the acidic atmosphere was not something he wanted to subject Shancai to, but his mother had been insistent. Apparently, it was a fantastic opportunity to debut Shancai as his lawfully wedded wife and a great way to allow her to circulate with their family's business associates. He scowled as his mother's stern voice echoed in the recesses of his mind; if Shancai wants to be a Daoming, she has to step out of her comfort zone and act like a Daoming. This didn't sit well with her husband; yes, he loved how his surname looked attached to hers, but he didn't want to change her and he certainly didn't wish to meddle with what made her so quintessentially Shancai - he had fallen in love with his stubborn, perfectly imperfect woman just the way she was and he would be damned if he let his mother bleed her of her unique essence. However, Shancai had waved aside his concerns, taking his mother's demands in her stride and accepting the invitation with grace. Because she was perfect. How had he gotten so lucky? Any other woman would have quailed under his mother's tyranny, would have fled without a backwards glance, but not his little lady. He thanked his lucky stars each and every day. He was blessed to have met her.

However, he couldn't deny that he had been secretly hoping Shancai would point blank refuse to attend; Ah Si loathed those gatherings with an intense passion, but he had acquiesced for two reasons. One, his mother was finally warming up to Shancai, albeit begrudgingly, and was extending a reluctant olive branch - who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Two... he was eager to show off Shancai, to flaunt their relationship in public after keeping it secret for so long. So the newlyweds had attended and Ah Si was completely thrilled to have his woman on his arm. She was a vision in emerald green silk, her cocktail dress delightfully flattering and her makeup tasteful, accentuating her soft doe eyes and sculpted lips. She was breathtaking and he knew it. Boy, did he know it. All eyes had been on them all night, the compliments a never ending stream; he couldn't lie, his heart had beat an elatedly jagged rhythm each and every time he caught sight of them together in a mirror. They were a beautiful couple, he was glad it was so conspicuously evident to all. The champagne had been abundant and flowing, the canapés delicious, but Doaming Si's senses were eclipsed by her brilliance; he was entirely punch drunk on his scintillating wife.

His wife; he would never tire of those two little syllables. Bless her heart, she had been out of her depth, but she had handled herself with dignity and poise, enduring the stares and whispers for his sake. He didn't deserve her one bit but he would never let her go; he was entirely too selfish for that. The night had been going swimmingly, until she had excused herself to use the powder room. Confusingly, she had been arctic and glacial upon her return, for unfathomable reasons; Daoming Si was practically chomping at the bit to know why. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what had landed him in the dog house this time. Hours and hours of frosty silence he had endured. A man had needs, and he needed her warm smile back, not the wintry glares she was drilling into the side of his head and the accompanying stony silence. He had tried everything, exhausted all options - he had told her stupid jokes, he had prodded and poked her, he had tried unleashing his signature Daoming charm, he had wheedled and begged in a manner uncharacteristic of his nature. Ah Si had now resorted to reverse psychology, his face recalcitrant as he turned the tables on her. She wanted to ignore him? Fine! It didn't matter anyway. He would just ignore her right back!