Sikong Zhaixing agreed "readily."
But if he were to speak honestly, Guan Qi had ten thousand flaws.
First, he was no longer young.
Regardless of whether those years of madness counted or not, he was of the same generation as the Six and a Half Halls' Chief Lei Sun.
And Miss Shi? She was likely even a few years younger than Lei Sun's only daughter, Lei Chun.
An old man with a young wife—hardly an ideal match.
—Unless Guan Qi were to die on the wedding day.
Beyond age, the bigger issue was his status.
If one looked back twenty years, his position as the leader of the Mystic Sky Alliance and one of the world's top martial artists would have placed him firmly at the pinnacle of the martial world. But today, though the Mystic Sky Alliance had managed to escape the relentless pursuit of various factions, it was a far cry from its former glory.
Whether Guan Qi, now bearing the title of Seventh Saint, could still command respect within the Mystic Sky Alliance was, in Sikong Zhaixing's eyes, entirely uncertain.
Sikong Zhaixing, with his peerless lightness skill, had traveled in and out of the Mystic Sky Alliance multiple times due to Shi Qingruo's involvement, and he had noticed many unsettling signs.
Aside from Guan Qi, the madman who paid no heed to worldly affairs, the six other Saints of the Mystic Sky Alliance were clearly each scheming for their own ends.
The revered First Saint, Yan Hefa, had gathered a faction under him, led by the Second Saint Zhu Xiaoyao, and seemed to have ties to a certain power in the capital.
The Fourth Saint, Ren Guishen, who had taken Miss Shi to select subordinates that day, and the Third Saint, Deng Cangsheng, were originally a pair of assassins.
From what Sikong Zhaixing had observed, these two had secretly met with members of the Six and a Half Halls and accepted substantial benefits from them—hardly a casual connection. It seemed they had already pledged allegiance to Lei Sun of the Six and a Half Halls.
Similarly, the Fifth Saint, Zhang Tieshu, and the Sixth Saint, Zhang Liexin, who had once sought refuge under the Mystic Sky Alliance to escape the consequences of an old case, had now re-emerged in the martial world under the moniker "Iron Tree Blossoms, Twin Masters of Fingers and Palms," serving as the vanguard for the young Marquis Fang Yingkan, the "Divine Spear and Blood Sword."
Guan Qi remained oblivious to the three distinct factions among his six Saints.
If not for his unparalleled martial prowess, which still made him a useful figurehead, who knew if he would even be alive today?
As Sikong Zhaixing vaulted over the courtyard wall, he couldn't help but bitterly muse—why had heaven been so unjust as to bestow such peerless martial talent upon Guan Qi?
He, a promising young man who loved life and his profession, had nearly wanted to bash his head against a wall the first time he saw Guan Qi.
It was truly a shocking revelation.
Clearly, those years of madness had not diminished Guan Qi's martial arts—if anything, they had propelled him to new heights.
That was perhaps his only redeeming quality.
Wait—no!
Sikong Zhaixing reconsidered. Even this so-called advantage was, from Miss Shi's perspective, a flaw.
The greater Guan Qi's influence on others, the more it proved he had no real control over his own power.
If he were to lose control one day, the first person in danger would be Shi Qingruo.
How could that not be a reason she should never marry him?
...
Unfortunately, Sikong Zhaixing's opinions mattered little.
The grand wedding of the Mystic Sky Alliance's Seventh Saint continued to proceed without a hitch.
The old scandal Ren Guishen had dredged up that day seemed no more than a ripple in a river, swiftly swallowed by the steady current of time.
Thus, when summoned again by Chief Lei Sun, Sikong Zhaixing could only report that Guan Qi had recently been frequently seen with his bride-to-be, and the two appeared to be a perfect match. If she had chosen to let go of Guan Qi's past and focus on securing her position as the Mystic Sky Alliance's First Lady, who could say?
In that case, she would certainly not stir trouble now, content to play the role of a blushing bride.
Guan Qi, too, seemed happy to indulge Shi Qingruo's wishes, issuing an unusually precise order—
No matter what major events had previously occurred within the Alliance, now that he had "recovered" his long-lost wife and was holding a belated wedding ceremony, there would be no more hiding. This wedding would be conducted with dignity and grandeur.
He wanted a wedding banquet of unparalleled splendor.
The bridal gown was ready; all that remained were the ceremonial arrangements.
As if heaven itself approved, the spring rains had ceased after two final showers, giving way to clear skies.
...
Shi Qingruo lifted her gaze to the window, where pale sunlight filtered through the swaying willow branches, casting dappled shadows on the sill.
The air was filled with the whistles of Mystic Sky Alliance disciples coordinating their movements, mingling with the cheerful chirping of spring orioles—a scene of perfect harmony.
Inside the room, the vibrant reds of wedding decorations only enhanced the auspicious atmosphere.
Even Zhu Xiaoyao, sharing the space with her, seemed softened by the radiant spring day and the sweet, gentle smile on the beauty before her. Shedding her earlier worries and pity, she lowered her voice to explain the day's arrangements:
"The bridal sedan will depart from here and proceed to the Mystic Sky Alliance's former headquarters, which had been sealed and unused."
"Sealed?" Shi Qingruo questioned.
Zhu Xiaoyao explained, "At the peak of the Seventh Lord's madness, he nearly gravely injured the First Saint. With enemies lurking, and his inability to distinguish friend from foe, the Alliance had no choice but to shut down its Bianjing branch as a precaution. But now, for the Seventh Lord's wedding—and to announce the Mystic Sky Alliance's resurgence—we are reopening the old stronghold."
"The procession will cross nearly half of Bianjing, a journey befitting the status of the Seventh Lord and his lady."
A martial world wedding spanning half the imperial capital—truly something that could only happen in a wuxia setting.
Shi Qingruo inwardly scoffed, but her face showed only delicate concern. "Won't such a spectacle draw too much attention?"
Zhu Xiaoyao quickly reassured her, "My lady need not worry. Sentries have been posted along the entire route under the Fourth Saint's command. No outsiders will disrupt our Alliance's grand occasion. The First Saint is already stationed at Sanhe Tower, ready to reinforce any point at a moment's notice. The Third Saint and I will personally escort the bridal procession alongside the Seventh Lord."
She added with conviction, "Since this is our declaration of the Mystic Sky Alliance's return, we would never gamble with your safety."
"...That is a relief." Shi Qingruo exhaled softly.
Had she not been able to clearly see Zhu Xiaoyao's faction affiliations—and had she not dealt with her extensively in the game's first playthrough—Shi Qingruo might have almost believed that the Mystic Sky Alliance's rise, and Guan Qi's return to prominence, was truly Zhu Xiaoyao's foremost priority.
But in this small stronghold, where Ren Guishen had his schemes and Zhu Xiaoyao her own calculations, how could she... not have plans of her own?
Shi Qingruo suddenly reached out, pointing to a wooden stand nearby.
Her fingertips bore no rouge, yet her slender, perfectly proportioned hand held its own luminous charm. "Bring it here."
The maidservant at her side hesitated for a fleeting moment before presenting the red bridal veil meant to cover her face.
Yes—the auspicious hour was near.
Outside the courtyard, the celebratory music had yet to begin, but Guan Qi, dressed in his groom's ceremonial robes, was already seated atop his horse. Perhaps because of his "normalcy" today, the members of the Meteor Alliance had regained their confidence. The numerous experts arranged within the wedding procession carried an air of disciplined authority, unmistakably well-trained.
As the bridal sedan chair carrying the future Lady of the Meteor Alliance set off, the ceremonial music erupted, instantly sweeping away the lingering gloom and stagnant aura that had once clung to the estate.
Was this the beginning of a new era for the Meteor Alliance?
No one present could say for certain.
All they could see was the long, sprawling procession and the childlike purity of Guan Qi’s smile.
If one ignored the undercurrents of tension in the streets of Bianjing, this might have seemed like nothing more than an ordinary wedding—albeit one with an unusually grand display.
Nothing more.
Look—
The flower girls accompanying the procession were already tossing coins from their baskets, eliciting cheers from the onlookers lining the streets. Even the weddings of the capital’s nobility could hardly surpass this spectacle.
...
Wang Xiaoshi deftly caught several coins that flew his way. Staring at the sea of crimson in the procession, he couldn’t help but click his tongue in amazement.
Turning to the man beside him, he remarked, "No wonder you closed your stall so early today. It’s because of this much-talked-about wedding."
Bai Choufei didn’t answer immediately.
He and Wang Xiaoshi had arrived in Bianjing together months ago.
Relying on their exceptional martial skills, Bai Choufei had naturally vowed to make a name for himself before reaching the capital.
But unfortunately, upon arriving, they quickly realized that the waters here ran far deeper than they had imagined.
In this city, martial prowess wasn’t the deciding factor in rising to prominence—connections were.
And as luck would have it, they had none.
Thus, only two paths remained before them.
Either they could choose to make a name through bloodshed, evading the Six Gates’ pursuit while seeking a powerful patron, or they could lie low in the capital, waiting for an opening in the power struggles between the major factions to seize their moment.
Until then, they had to earn enough silver through honest means to survive.
Wang Xiaoshi had chosen to put his medical knowledge to use, working as an apothecary at the renowned Huichun Hall. Bai Choufei, meanwhile, relied on his calligraphy and painting skills to sell his works on the streets.
"This wedding has nothing to do with us," Bai Choufei said, his voice cool. The months of hardship had dulled some of his aloof pride, but his words still carried a sharp edge. "Those coins you caught won’t make up for today’s lost earnings, let alone buy the wine and dishes you mentioned from Yideju the other day."
Wang Xiaoshi, ever the optimist, tucked the coins into his belt with a chuckle. "Don’t be like that. Who knows? Maybe we’ll catch some of their luck. If the Meteor Alliance rises from this, it might be our chance to establish ourselves. If we keep wasting time like this, we’ll end up sick."
"What kind of sickness?"
Wang Xiaoshi laughed. "The sickness of poverty."
Poverty breeds short-sightedness—an eternal truth.
He said it so casually.
"Thankfully, after we dealt with those human traffickers, Miss Shi didn’t accept our invitation to come to Bianjing with us. Otherwise, she’d be suffering alongside us. I wonder how she’s doing now. And Miss Tian, and Miss Wen—"
"—What are you looking at?" Wang Xiaoshi suddenly noticed that Bai Choufei hadn’t reacted to the mention of their acquaintances. Instead, his gaze was fixed in one direction, his expression thoughtful.
Following his line of sight, Wang Xiaoshi realized Bai Choufei was staring at the bridal sedan chair.
Bai Choufei murmured, "...Something feels off about that sedan."
Wang Xiaoshi shrugged. "For a faction as powerful as the Meteor Alliance, the bride’s sedan would naturally be special. It’s not like some rural wedding where they’d just throw something together."
Bai Choufei shook his head.
No, the strangeness he sensed wasn’t about the sedan’s size or design.
Given Guan Qi’s standing in the martial world, even a sedan twice the usual size wouldn’t be out of place.
What unsettled him was the faint sound of mechanical gears turning as the sedan moved.
He couldn’t have misheard—
"Look out!"
A sudden shout came from behind.
Bai Choufei had no time to dwell on it further. He turned sharply toward the commotion.
What he saw made his blood run cold—several horses, their tails ablaze, had been released from a nearby alley and were now charging straight into the crowded street.
Driven mad by the flames, the horses showed no restraint.
The hastily cleared path of overturned tables and railings barely slowed them before they surged forward again.
And their target was unmistakable—the bridal sedan.
Bai Choufei’s heart pounded. The faction wars in the capital had grown brazen indeed.
No one would believe this was mere coincidence.
This was a deliberate attack on the Meteor Alliance’s wedding.
And the horses were surely just the beginning.
But the Meteor Alliance’s guards reacted swiftly.
Before disaster could fully unfold, a figure in flowing robes leaped into the air, intercepting the charging horses. Meanwhile, several guards closer to the procession drew their swords to block the path.
Bai Choufei’s sharp hearing caught the order shouted from the Meteor Alliance’s ranks—proof they had anticipated an ambush.
"No bloodshed—"
This was the wedding of the Meteor Alliance’s Seventh Saint Lord. How could they allow ill omens?
Yet when the first guard struck, Bai Choufei immediately sensed something wrong.
The force behind that palm strike was far too brutal.
This wasn’t a non-lethal technique.
The blow wasn’t aimed at a fatal point—it wouldn’t kill the horse instantly. Instead—
The palm struck the horse’s body.
A deafening boom echoed.
The charging steed exploded into a shower of blood and flesh, spraying a crimson mist over the wedding procession.
In the next instant, another strike followed, even more devastating than the first.
"Something’s wrong!" Wang Xiaoshi, having recently dealt with medicines, was far more sensitive to toxins than most. He yanked Bai Choufei back without hesitation.
But the Meteor Alliance’s guards weren’t so fortunate.
Those who had rushed to intercept the chaos were now engulfed in the bloody mist. Screams erupted as they collapsed to the ground.
And in the chaos, black-clad figures emerged from the rooftops on both sides of the street, descending like lightning.
Their target was clear—
The bridal sedan.
