On the day of the wealthiest heiress's grand wedding, the entire city was adorned with lanterns and festive decorations. The guards of the Chu Mansion carried trays of wedding cakes, distributing them to every household.
The Chu family enjoyed a sterling reputation in the city, and thus received an abundance of blessings. Aside from the merchants who regularly conducted business with them, many renowned figures from the martial world also came to offer their congratulations.
"So many people—be careful not to get jostled, junior sister!" Murong Meixin nagged incessantly. "Hold my hand, I'll protect you."
Murong Meifei turned her face away with a sigh. "So annoying."
Someone exclaimed excitedly, "Look! That's the most skilled disciple of the younger generation from Murong Manor! They say she might surpass the legendary Shangguan Huanxi and become the new number one in the martial world!"
Murong Meixin puffed out his chest proudly, basking in the admiration.
"But I heard she's always followed around by a useless fool. If it weren't for the fact that he's the Murong family head's own son, he wouldn’t even be allowed past the manor gates."
Murong Meixin's eyes dimmed, and he lowered his head.
Suddenly, a stone struck the gossipmonger’s head. He yelped in pain as a large bump swelled on his forehead. "Who dares ambush me?!"
Murong Meifei shot him a cold glance. "Keep running your mouth, and I’ll cut out your tongue."
The man paled and quickly disappeared into the crowd.
Though Murong Manor was considered a righteous sect, their methods leaned toward the unorthodox. Their swordplay followed the "Tyrant’s Path"—returning force with force, acting on whims, and settling scores with equal ruthlessness.
Murong Meixin blinked, looking somewhat dazed.
Murong Meifei took a few steps forward before glancing back at him and extending her hand. "Weren’t you going to protect me?"
His eyes suddenly sparkled with renewed vigor. He hurried over, clasping her hand, and straightened up like a proud peacock. "Junior sister, you’ve always had a terrible sense of direction. Hold tight—don’t get lost!"
Murong Meifei turned away again. "Annoying."
"Darling, look at this lantern—it’s so beautiful!" Black Goose pulled White Dove along beneath a dazzling array of lanterns lining the courtyard walls, thoroughly delighted.
White Dove surveyed the extravagant arrangements throughout the Chu Mansion and rapped her knuckles against Black Goose’s head. "You should really learn from Ninth on how to win a father-in-law’s approval!"
Black Goose muttered, "Whether he won approval or just threatened the old man into handing over his daughter is still up for debate."
White Dove "hmph"-ed and turned away, leaving Black Goose scrambling after her.
"Swish!" Two folding fans snapped open in unison as two figures—one tall, one short—spoke in perfect sync:
"Just here for a wedding feast, yet the air reeks of cloying couples."
Their eyes met across the sea of guests.
"Look! That’s the young master of the Red Pavilion! They say the Pavilion remains reclusive, but he roams the world with his bodyguard, uncovering every secret in existence!"
Su Lingxi straightened his posture, lifting his chin to appear taller. Amidst the murmurs of awe, his presence seemed to grow even in the shadow of the towering man beside him.
"My heavens, is that a disciple of Phoenix Fort?"
Hearing this, Heart Knife—dressed entirely in white today—smiled faintly, gently waving his fan with the refined grace of a nobleman.
"That’s the infamous 'Blade Demon'! Murder, arson, bullying the weak—even kicking dogs that cross his path! They say he stole Widow Li’s undergarments yesterday. Truly, no evil is beneath him!"
Su Lingxi burst into laughter.
Heart Knife’s charming smile froze. He whipped around, flushing with fury. "Keep spouting nonsense, and I’ll bury you all in the desert to dry into jerky!"
The crowd scattered at once, not daring to provoke the notorious figure further.
Su Lingxi grinned. "Long time no see. Congratulations—your infamy has only grown."
Heart Knife returned the smile sweetly. "Long time no see. And yet, you still haven’t grown an inch taller."
"What did you say?!" Su Lingxi lunged, but Wuya’s firm hand clamped down on his shoulder, leaving him flailing in place. "Just because you’re old doesn’t make you special! I’m not a kid—stop treating me like one!"
Heart Knife pretended to glance around. "Oh? Where’s that yapping puppy? So noisy."
"Blade Demon, I’ll kill you!"
A golden-clad young woman passed by, sidestepping the commotion with mild disdain. She wondered where Chu'he had found such rowdy friends.
Nearby, another scene unfolded.
"Hero Fang, how old are you? How many in your family? What do you do for a living? Are you married?"
"Hero Fang, meet my daughter—she’s still unattached!"
"Hero Fang, I’ve admired you for so long! Won’t you join me for a meal? Let’s be friends!"
Fang Songhe was swarmed by noblewomen and young maidens. He stammered refusals, only to have hands sneakily grope his chest. If he pushed anyone away, they’d wail about injuries, demanding he take responsibility.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
Then, a voice cried, "Oh! Who dropped this gold?"
Everyone looked down—sure enough, a gleaming gold ingot lay on the ground.
"That’s mine!"
Li Furong, petite and proud, stood out instantly as the crowd bent over. Arms crossed, adorned in a luminous yellow gown and glittering jewels, she radiated unapproachable elegance.
Fang Songhe froze.
Li Furong frowned and shot him a meaningful glance.
Snapping back to reality, he seized the chance to flee.
Meanwhile, in the bustling main hall of the Chu Mansion...
Song Chunming walked alone down a quiet corridor, turning his back to the revelry. Having stayed at the estate for some time, he knew its layout intimately—including the path to the young mistress’s quarters.
Ninth was inseparable from Chu'he, but today, he’d been shooed out while she prepared for the ceremony, surrounded by her closest friends.
As he drew nearer, the girls’ voices grew clearer.
"I’m Zhao Shuxing—just call me Shuxing!" A lively voice chirped. "My sister told me all about you and Ninth! I’ve been dying to meet you!"
Chu'he asked, "How is Rong Yue? Is she well?"
"She’s fine! Just a bit tired—resting in the guest room."
"Good heavens, isn’t that headdress heavy?" Sang Duo clicked her tongue. "And the robes are so intricate. Han weddings are so tedious—just watching exhausts me."
The sound of the door opening came again, and Li Furong's voice was exaggerated and loud, "Chu Yangzi, your face painted so white looks absolutely ridiculous!"
Chu'he gritted her teeth, "Just you wait! If you ever get married, I’ll make sure to laugh at you on your wedding day too!"
"This young lady aspires to follow in the footsteps of Mr. Xu Zhenzhi—to travel across mountains and rivers, explore the world, and then write memoirs. What’s so great about marriage? Playing the role of a dutiful wife and mother isn’t for me. I refuse to marry!"
Sang Duo nodded in agreement, "True, marriage only brings more constraints."
Zhao Shuxing admired her, "Wow, that’s amazing! Will you write travel journals then? Can I be your first reader?"
"If you want to be this young lady’s first reader, you’ll have to become her very best friend first!"
"My name is Zhao Shuxing—let’s be friends!"
Chu'he interjected, "Hey! Tonight is my wedding—I’m the main character here!"
The lively commotion in the room never ceased, filled with the chatter of young women, noisy and spirited.
Song Chunming tightened his grip on the object in his hand and moved forward steadily.
A sudden night breeze rose, and from the darkness behind him came the faint sound of a chime.
Song Chunming tensed and turned sharply, but only the swaying shadows of trees greeted him. He chided himself for being overly cautious and turned back, his steps resolute as he pressed onward.
