If these words had come from someone else, they might have sounded like empty bravado. Even if spoken as a man’s promise to a woman, they might not have been entirely credible.
But the one who uttered them was none other than Guan Qi.
A peerless martial arts master who had already descended into madness had no reason to lie.
Moreover, in his eyes, holding a grand wedding ceremony to reunite with his long-lost wife was absolutely necessary, and her safety had to be guaranteed at all costs.
The declaration to "kill everyone who stands in the way, without exception!" was no idle threat.
……
"Even if the forces of the Golden Wind and Rain Tower or the Six and a Half Halls dared to cause trouble, they wouldn’t stand a chance. The Seventh Saint Lord’s devotion to his wife is truly remarkable."
Devotion?
Shi Qingruo glanced at the man following behind her, her gaze uncertain.
From behind, the man added, "Before Madam was brought back to the alliance, the Saint Lord’s madness was far worse than it is now. Perhaps with her by his side, he might one day recover completely."
"...Is that so?"
Last night’s rain had cleared, leaving the courtyard strewn with fallen leaves and petals that crunched softly underfoot. Yet, if one listened carefully, only a single set of footsteps could be heard.
The man trailing behind her, however, moved with ghostly silence—his lightness of foot living up to his name. He was none other than Ren Guishen, the Fourth Saint Lord of the Bewitching Heaven Alliance, assigned by Guan Qi to protect her and assist in selecting her personal attendants.
To say that Guan Qi was the only madman in the Bewitching Heaven Alliance would be an understatement—the others weren’t exactly paragons of normality either.
Earlier, while passing through the front courtyard, Shi Qingruo had spotted a short, rotund man in loose robes, his fingers no longer than a single joint of an ordinary person’s.
That alone wouldn’t have been particularly strange.
But his partner wore a pair of deerskin gloves, making his fingers appear even more elongated—nearly half again as long as a normal person’s.
Standing side by side, the stark contrast in their heights and builds made them an unmistakably bizarre pair.
As for the Fourth Saint Lord, Ren Guishen, he had only removed the bamboo hat that usually covered his head because of Guan Qi’s orders—otherwise, he too would have cut an eccentric figure.
Now, dressed in a long robe of blue and gray, he looked less like a sinister martial artist and more like a scholarly tutor.
Shi Qingruo mused that his demeanor, combined with his earlier words, made him seem like the kind of butler who might exclaim, "The young master has finally smiled!" Yet she dared not let her guard down around him.
From Ren Guishen’s perspective, the woman—whose beauty was rare even in this world—paused before the desolate courtyard scene, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before asking softly, "May I ask… how did Qi-ge’s madness come about?"
Ren Guishen replied, "That… is not a question you should ask me."
After all, how could a subordinate speak freely about their superior?
Shi Qingruo shook her head. "But I can’t ask Xiaoyao either. She said she was only brought into the alliance by the First Saint Lord a few years ago and knows nothing of Qi-ge’s past."
When Guan Qi was injured and succumbed to madness, Zhu Xiaoyao had been little more than a child—how could she possibly know the truth?
Ren Guishen, however, knew far more.
She had no choice but to ask him.
"If I am to marry him, I cannot remain ignorant. If you refuse to answer, I’ll find another way to uncover the truth."
Ren Guishen hesitated briefly, his gaze sweeping over Shi Qingruo’s radiant face, where he detected a stubborn naivety that made him inwardly scoff.
"If Madam insists, then I suppose I must answer. Among the Seven Saints of Bewitching Heaven, though I hold the title of Fourth Saint, everyone in the alliance knows we are merely guardians of the Seventh Lord—we have no authority in major decisions."
Since he held no real power, it was only right to answer the future lady of the house.
Choosing his words carefully, he continued, "The Seventh Lord… once had a beloved named Wen Xiaobai."
The already quiet courtyard seemed to grow even stiller, punctuated only by a faint, sharp intake of breath.
This "Xiaobai" was not the "Little Qing" Guan Qi had now reclaimed—but the long-lost "white moonlight" of his past.
Shi Qingruo’s voice trembled slightly. "...Go on."
"Rumors in the capital say that Miss Wen was trained by a reclusive master, but because the first people she encountered upon entering the martial world were from the Southern Warm Clan, she took their surname and moved through Bianjing under the name Wen."
Noticing Shi Qingruo turning away to hide her reaction, Ren Guishen followed as he continued, "Back then, Miss Wen and the Seventh Lord were practically married. But because he became obsessed with martial arts, she felt neglected and grew close to the Thunder Hall Master of the Six and a Half Halls. Eventually, she vanished without a trace."
"At the same time, Lei Zhenyu—a candidate for the position of Chief Hall Master in the Six and a Half Halls—challenged the Seventh Lord to a duel."
"The Seventh Lord, already distraught over Wen Xiaobai’s disappearance, was on the verge of qi deviation. He accepted the challenge. Everyone in the alliance tried to dissuade him, but his martial prowess was unmatched, and seeing his determination, we didn’t stop him. None of us expected that while the Seventh Lord went to the duel in good faith, the Six and a Half Halls would disregard all martial codes—ambushing him with a formation of explosive traps and hidden weapons."
Ren Guishen’s expression darkened, his teeth clenched as if reliving the aftermath of that betrayal. "After that battle, Lei Zhenyu was blown to pieces—his death was swift and clean. But the Seventh Lord was grievously wounded… and descended into madness. Meanwhile, Lei Sun, another candidate for Chief Hall Master, used the chaos to seize power in the Six and a Half Halls and has since relentlessly hunted our alliance."
The world is full of those who love to kick a man when he’s down.
With their strongest fighter lost to insanity, the once-mighty Bewitching Heaven Alliance could not survive.
"The Seventh Lord’s martial skills remain, but he often cannot distinguish friend from foe. Around the same time, Lady Guan—his elder sister—also vanished, leaving the alliance without leadership. We had no choice but to retreat into the shadows, watching helplessly as the Six and a Half Halls and the Golden Wind and Rain Tower grew ever stronger."
"If not… if not for the Seventh Lord still clinging to the memory of that woman, the entire alliance would have scoured the martial world—even stormed the Southern Warm Clan—to drag Wen Xiaobai back—"
His furious tirade came to an abrupt halt.
Ren Guishen seemed to suddenly remember who he was speaking to and quickly bit back his words.
Some gossip was fine to share with subordinates, but voicing such things to Guan Qi’s future wife was clearly inappropriate.
Ahead, the slender figure seemed to stagger slightly under the weight of his revelations.
Then, a quiet voice broke the silence: "Does… does Wen Xiaobai look like me?"
Ren Guishen nearly laughed.
All the secrets of the Bewitching Heaven Alliance and the Six and a Half Halls he had just revealed seemed to have flown over Shi Qingruo’s head—she cared only about this one question.
What a hopelessly inexperienced woman.
He raised his hand.
But this was no ordinary gesture.
Ren Guishen was renowned in the martial world for his palm techniques, and with just the lift of his hand, he had channeled the full force of his life's mastery—the Ghostly Divine Split—into a single strike.
Had that hand descended, the beauty before him would have perished in an instant.
Yet Shi Qingruo remained utterly oblivious to this fleeting test. She suddenly halted and turned, stubbornly repeating her question: "Do I resemble that Wen Xiaobai?"
"No." As he spoke, Ren Guishen withdrew his hand into his sleeve, ensuring no trace of his intent could be detected.
Having confirmed that this mysterious Holy Consort-to-be truly lacked martial prowess, a weight lifted from his mind, and his tone grew calmer. "You bear no resemblance to her."
This was the truth.
If Wen Xiaobai was purity hardened by frost, clarity deepened by snow, then Shi Qingruo was a brilliance dazzling and radiant beyond compare.
The two were not merely dissimilar—they were polar opposites.
Precisely for this reason, Ren Guishen couldn’t fathom why Guan Qi had mistaken her for Wen Xiaobai, insisting on legitimizing her status and even emerging from his previous deluded state.
If not for certain behaviors, he might almost seem like a rational man again.
For some, this was far from good news.
For him… it wasn’t either.
Meeting her tear-glazed gaze, he said, "The Consort need not dwell on this matter. Even if Guan Qi regains his senses because of you, he will not cling to the past. Though he has been haunted by memories for over a decade, it was merely the result of his qi deviation back then."
"Now that you are the Holy Consort he is to wed, it’s unlikely he truly mistook you for another…"
"Enough." Shi Qingruo sighed softly, cutting him off. "It’s too early for such talk. Let fate take its course."
...Leave it to fate?
In the murky waters of Bianjing, surrendering to destiny was the gravest mistake one could make.
Yet this critique never left Ren Guishen’s lips.
He merely bowed and replied, "As the Consort wills."
From the furrow in Shi Qingruo’s brow, he could easily deduce that his words had planted a thorn in her heart.
As for what consequences that thorn might yield, he had guidance from higher powers—it would not spiral out of control.
He was even more pleased to see that when selecting her guards, Shi Qingruo, initially intent on choosing trusted aides, now seemed listless after his revelation. She merely pointed at two men at random before retreating to her bridal chamber.
And those two, if his eyes did not deceive him, were spies Lei Sun had planted within the Mi Tian Alliance.
In other words, they were his own people.
No matter how enigmatic Shi Qingruo’s origins, she had just added two more jailers to her cage. What was there to fear?
...
Yet once the door closed—
"He thinks I didn’t notice?" Shi Qingruo flicked her sleeve and sat at the table, her voice icy.
"I asked how Guan Qi lost his mind, and he rambled about Wen Xiaobai. Claiming Guan Qi suffered qi deviation after her departure, that he’s been haunted by her memory for years..."
What a masterstroke from Ren Guishen.
Had she truly been an innocent abductee, mistaken by Guan Qi and awed into staying by his reputation, his words might have left her tossing and turning all night.
With a fiercer temper, she might even have fled outright.
Whether Guan Qi’s madness would find restraint in her presence, whether he’d regain his long-lost sanity, was uncertain. But her departure would only push things toward the worst outcome.
If Ren Guishen, one of the Mi Tian Alliance’s Four Holy Lords, were truly loyal to Guan Qi, he could speak of the battle that felled two masters—but he should never,
never have brought up Wen Xiaobai at such a critical juncture!
Even if Guan Qi had hinted at seeing Shi Qingruo as someone else.
"He has ulterior motives."
"Indeed. He wants Guan Qi to remain mad, fearing the return of the world’s greatest mind," replied the other person in the room.
It was one of the guards Shi Qingruo had selected—summoned to the inner chamber under the pretense of familiarity, while the other stood watch outside.
Ren Guishen, now far away and likely reporting to his superiors, would never witness how the previously meek attendant’s face, ordinary to the point of forgettable, now gleamed with cunning, transforming his entire demeanor.
Beneath this visage, familiar to the Mi Tian Alliance, lay another soul entirely.
"Little Bat..." Shi Qingruo called.
Sikong Zhaixing bristled. "Don’t call me that."
Shi Qingruo laughed. "I don’t understand your thief’s arts. The first time I saw you, you were hanging upside-down from the eaves, spying into this courtyard. If not a bat, what else?"
"You refused to tell me your name. What else should I call you? ‘Master of Disguise’?"
Sikong Zhaixing fell silent.
But perhaps his quiet stemmed from another reason.
The woman at the table rested her cheek on her palm, half her face bathed in candlelight. Yet instead of blurring her features, the glow seemed to gather around her, as if the room’s radiance had been woven into the resplendent silk of her beauty.
A vision of unrivaled brilliance.
And the more he failed to unravel her origins, her motives, the more he felt that this silk bore a pattern unique in all the world.
Sikong Zhaixing sighed inwardly.
Lu Xiaofeng was a wanderer of the martial world, but he understood little of true emotion—and even less of his thoughts.
When this thief set his sights on a prize, he never needed Lu Xiaofeng’s forewarning… unless it was a treasure he deemed irreplaceable.
And then, he needed another kind of aid.
It took him a moment to find his voice again. "...You heard Ren Guishen’s words. With such schemes afoot, do you still intend to become the Mi Tian Alliance’s Holy Consort?"
Shi Qingruo blinked, her answer so swift it made Sikong Zhaixing question if he’d asked something foolish. "Why not? Guan Qi treats me well. That’s enough."
"But—"
"Little Bat, will you do something for me?" Her gentle query lodged the words in his throat.
He wanted to say that even if Guan Qi treated her kindly, the schemes of Bianjing would not spare her danger.
He wanted to say he wasn’t some "Little Bat"—the name was hardly flattering.
Or perhaps he should simply leave, lest he end up like Guan Qi, lured into this dreamlike snare by forces unknown.
But in the end, only one word escaped him.
"...Fine."
