“How do we bring His Majesty and Master together?” Tian Qi’s expression was strange, seeming both moved and reluctant, his eyes half melancholy and half joyful, looking somewhat split.

“Naturally we can’t simply and crudely tie them together and send them to the bridal chamber,” the thick-nerved Meng Hu pondered, uncertainly saying after a long moment, “We’ll adapt as needed? I think the Queen has no issues—Master’s thoughts are hard to fathom. With so many congratulatory guests today, if we could make Master publicly declare his feelings or something, given the Queen’s status, Master would have to give an account in the future. Don’t you think?”

Meng Hu felt thinking about such matters was really difficult for him. The best method would actually still be tying them up and sending them to the bridal chamber, but unfortunately the success rate was too low.

Tian Qi thought his method was quite good and nodded. “These two keep hiding and concealing—there’s really no need for it. They should announce it to the world, but we need the right opportunity.”

Meng Hu thought for a moment, then suddenly said, “Our Meng Kingdom has a custom. After the bride enters the bridal chamber and the wedding feast begins, the bride will pass out an item she carried today from within the chamber—it could be a hairpin or a flower. At the same time, the groom will also take out his wedding flower or sachet from today, along with various other small trinkets, placing them in a box that’s passed among all unmarried guests. Whoever gets the bride’s gift is considered to have absorbed good fortune, with their romantic star stirring, about to become the next bride. Similarly, whoever gets the groom’s gift will naturally also have good fortune and become the next groom. If fate happens to arrange it so that the guests who receive gifts from both sides are of similar age, status, and family background, it’s considered a heaven-sent match—most auspicious. Elders will actively arrange matches, and quite a few marriages have been achieved this way. For example, Prince Ping and Ji Xiang were originally matched this way…” At this point his face changed slightly and he stopped, thinking it was rather inauspicious to use this pair as an example at this time…

“How could it be so coincidental?” Tian Qi didn’t mind, laughing. “Prince Ping needed to marry a Ji family daughter to consolidate his position, so he just happened to draw the wedding flower with her at the feast?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Meng Hu chuckled. “How could there be such coincidences in the world? Naturally, one must manipulate things.”

“Manipulating things in front of those two won’t be easy,” Tian Qi shook his head.

Meng Hu’s gaze swept through the crowd, then suddenly he smiled broadly. “I just remembered—I met two friends who might be able to help.”

Tian Qi followed his gaze, but that direction had already passed beyond the wine tables to a warm pavilion by a lotus pond. At this moment with evening sunlight sparkling, the pond below the pavilion glittered, but no one could be seen.

He found this strange and was about to ask when he saw Meng Hu being pulled away to toast guests, so he could only follow along somewhat disappointed.

…

The wedding feast had begun. Due to the Meng residence’s unique design, the banquet tables for male and female guests were separated only by a pathway, with glazed lanterns stretching along both sides, casting rosy glows on everyone’s faces.

Every few tables along both sides of the pathway were flower trees. As it was now early winter with flowers withered, the Meng residence had created flowers from silk and colored fabrics, adorned with pearls and crystals as dewdrops. From afar, it was a riot of colorful blooms with sparkling pearls and gems.

Wedding feasts of Meng Kingdom’s official class always had entertainment segments—usually just opera performances and variety acts for everyone’s amusement.

The performance stage was set up in the center between both sides’ banquet tables where both male and female guests could see. Such occasions were actually opportunities for Meng Kingdom’s upper nobility to observe young men and women—catching a glimpse from across the tables, and if interested, the ladies at home would naturally make further social calls.

So the young ladies all spoke and acted cautiously, sitting properly as usual, while young men gathered around Meng Hu, making toasts while constantly glancing toward the women’s tables.

However, today’s banquet was somewhat unusual. More than half of those spirited young men’s gazes fell on the woman sitting in the most honored position at the women’s table—between the Grand Dowager and Madam Meng.

Everyone knew she was the Queen.

Everyone knew the Queen’s beauty was renowned throughout the world.

Everyone knew this Queen, who had appeared in Dahuang for only a few short years, had stirred up the greatest waves in Dahuang’s history of female succession, possessed the most tumultuous romantic history, achieved the most legendary life—disturbing imperial songs, fighting court ministers, driving from royal cities, passing through various tribes, seizing Daimo, finally taking the world from Daimo. After ascending the throne, she mysteriously toured Dahuang, and wherever she passed, the royal houses of six kingdoms and eight tribes were overthrown, with blood flowing like rivers.

A woman living life with such flamboyance and brilliance naturally aroused curiosity.

Also because those legendary killings were so heavy, with Prince Ping’s dismembered corpse still fresh in memory, even knowing the Queen’s beauty, people subconsciously imagined her with a stern face and hard, cold features. However, seeing this beauty under the lamplight now, with rosy lamp glow like sunset clouds, she was more brilliant than the sunset. No matter how dazzling the light in this world, it couldn’t overshadow her radiance. No matter how charming the flowers in this world, none could match her snow-white skin and red lips.

With her sitting there, it was as if all the world’s splendor was concentrated in her eyes. All other colors became colorless, and those carefully dressed young ladies appeared as dim as paintings on walls.

Some young men secretly watched the Queen, while others gazed intently at the men’s head table, where sat Pei Shu in red robes, Yelu Qi in black, and Gong Yin in white with a silver-blue cloak reluctantly added to match the festive occasion.

The guests were all nobles who more or less knew something about these three men’s identities. The Meng family’s respectful attitude further confirmed the rumors were true. A large group of excited young men’s gazes were mostly concentrated on these three equally legendary figures. Some admired the legendary fierce War God Pei Shu, some respected the long-sleeved, skilled dancer Left State Preceptor Yelu Qi who had governed for years, while even more people dared only steal glances at Gong Yin, speculating whether this might be the legendary former true number one person of Dahuang, the Left State Preceptor Gong Yin who abandoned his kingdom for a beauty.

In the legends, all three men were deeply rooted in love for Her Majesty the Queen—one followed her all along, one fought for her, and one even abandoned his kingdom for her. These were heroes and heroines who seemed to belong only in legendary tales, with passionate loyalty and the most fascinating romantic histories of entangled love and resentment…

Because of admiration came interest, and because of interest, these people circled around that head table, constantly observing the three men’s expressions and the Queen’s expressions, wanting to know how this complex situation of one woman and three men achieved balance… The area around the table became quite chaotic until Meng Hu couldn’t stand it anymore and came forward, using drinking as an excuse to lead everyone away, laughing, “Let’s watch the next performance—it’s quite interesting.”

Just as his words fell, the glazed lanterns along the central pathway suddenly went out.

Then the colored lanterns in the more distant gardens also went dark. Only the scattered lights from distant pavilions and towers remained, flickering like sparks in the dark night.

The brilliant and magnificent wedding feast garden suddenly plunged into an ocean of darkness, leaving everyone somewhat surprised and looking at each other in puzzlement.

Jing Hengbo didn’t mind, thinking it was probably the prelude to some performance that required extinguishing the lights.

Her position was at the very front center, close to and facing the central pathway that served as the stage. At this moment she unconsciously relaxed her back, leaning back in her chair. Though she had maintained a nonchalant expression while being stared at by so many eyes, keeping up that nonchalant smile was actually quite tiring.

With her back against the chair, looking at the darkened space with pairs of eyes glowing faintly, she somehow felt an eerie atmosphere.

This was intuition—intuition honed through long experience of storms and setbacks. She instinctively turned to look at the darkness beyond the garden, where the shadows of flower trees stood tall and short, indistinct and wavering. They seemed like countless people crouching in the shadows, occasionally swaying slightly in the breeze, creating illusions that people might leap out.

Looking around, she saw the young ladies around her all wore excited expressions. Jing Hengbo straightened her spine, thinking with amusement that she had experienced too many things and was becoming overly suspicious.

However, she suddenly noticed Gong Yin and the others across from her. They were directly opposite and clearly visible. Gong Yin sat bolt upright, Yelu Qi smiled faintly while toying with his wine cup, fingers slightly raised in a ready-to-throw position. Pei Shu was also turning his head to look in the direction she had been looking. At a nearby table, Tian Qi was tapping the table, while Qi Sha, who had been laughing and joking, continued his merriment, but Qi Yi and Yi Qi stood up swaying, saying they needed to relieve themselves.

Jing Hengbo sat up straight.

…

The moment the garden lights went out completely.

Several li away from the garden, across several courtyards, several black shadows silently drifted over the Meng residence’s courtyard walls. The leader seemed to be carrying something heavy on his shoulder, yet his form remained as ethereal as snowflakes. With a touch of his toes on the wall, he had already crossed several zhang.

Tonight the Meng residence was celebrating, with guests gathering like clouds. The guards naturally couldn’t be careless, dividing into two shifts—one patrolling, one gathered in the gatehouse eating the feast bestowed from above. Though they couldn’t drink alcohol, the dishes were all fine delicacies from land and sea. Those resting in the gatehouse ate with great enthusiasm, while those patrolling were distracted thinking about that hot food, patrolling absent-mindedly.

So when those black shadows took advantage of the darkness to cross the walls, no guards discovered them. But after that team of guards who were drooling over the garden feast passed by, several long, thin shadows emerged from corners, bushes, and under eaves, chasing after the earlier black shadows.

These were the Meng residence’s true guard force—the re-contacted Wasp Stings, bearing tonight’s real secret protection mission. Those figures who had sneaked over the walls under cover of darkness naturally couldn’t escape their eyes.

The infiltrating shadows seemed unaware of the Wasp Stings following behind, unhurriedly heading toward the bridal chamber. The bridal chamber was indeed brightly lit with women going in and out.

Those black-clothed figures suddenly stopped at an empty courtyard in front of the bridal chamber area just before approaching it, and swept inside.

The Wasp Stings exchanged glances and followed them in. There was nothing to worry about—this was the Meng residence after all. While the Meng residence’s own guards weren’t very useful, Marshal Pei’s Horizontal Halberd elite soldiers were in the outer courtyard attending the feast and could provide support at any time.

That courtyard was empty—an unused courtyard of the Meng residence. The most conspicuous feature in the yard was a well.

The leading black-clothed figure went straight to the well and without a word threw the figure he’d been carrying on his shoulder down the well.

This action was completely beyond the pursuing Wasp Stings’ expectations. They had thought these people were carrying some important object, or at least some important person. Who would have thought they’d suddenly throw it down a well? Could this really be some enemy of the Meng family taking advantage of the celebration to throw a corpse in their well for bad luck?

Those black shadows were quite decisive. After throwing the person down the well, they turned and left, not even heading toward the inner courtyard but straight for the outer walls, apparently genuinely planning to leave.

This again exceeded the Wasp Stings’ expectations. With no choice, they first sent someone to signal the Horizontal Halberd elite guards in the outer courtyard, while they themselves stayed to investigate what was in the well.

…

The moment the garden lights went out, black shadows crossed walls, Wasp Stings gave chase. Many people in the Meng residence were still celebrating joyfully, but beyond the boundary between joy and mystery, across a small alley outside the Meng residence by the riverside, someone stood silently.

That person wore white clothes in such thick darkness without fear of discovery, with an unusually wide skirt hem spread on the ground like soft clouds and flying moon. Long black hair carried moonlight flowing from roots to tips, and at the smooth hair ends flashed faint silver-white, creating the illusion of flowing moonlight and dancing celestial light.

Just a back view combined elegance and coldness.

Behind her stood more than ten tall and short white figures, motionless under the moon like fallen snow stone pillars.

The disciples of the snowy mountains were accustomed to silently awaiting their lady’s decisions. The prey had appeared, but traps seemed set ahead. To advance or not advance could only be decided by their lady.

Xu Pingran was also contemplating.

She needed Ji Xiang’s constitution to treat the currently uncontrollable toxins and rampant true qi in her body. Such treatment was urgent—even knowing that Ji Xiang being brought to the Meng residence was a trap, she couldn’t avoid stepping into it.

The other party seemed fearless, not even afraid of being discovered by her. They were a group of black-clothed people with no distinguishing features—no one would know who they were once they removed their cloaks.

But somehow, she always felt this group was related to the snowy mountains.

She suddenly thought of the Tianmen sect master, her husband—where was Murong Chou now? Since she was expelled from the snowy mountains and wandered the martial world, he had neither pursued nor cared for so long, closing off the snowy mountains and paying no attention, as if those years of studying together as fellow disciples never existed, as if those ten years of married love never existed, as if the pillow companion who had once imprisoned him in the snowy mountains and usurped his great power never existed.

Was it old affection still remaining, sparing her life? Or was it true heartlessness, forgetting each other in the martial world?

She stared at the river water before her, its surface sparkling with real existence, yet if she reached out to cup it, it would vanish in an instant.

She slowly clenched her fingers.

She would rather be hated and hunted than forgotten like this, as if she were a rag, a piece of waste paper whose loss meant nothing, leaving no regrets or unwillingness.

This was the greatest insult to her.

A strange thought suddenly flashed through her mind—perhaps what he valued in his heart was never her.

She vaguely remembered that ever since she seized great power, the Tianmen heir who had been training outside should have returned to the mountain gate long ago to undergo sect trials and determine whether he could succeed as Tianmen sect master. But due to her secret obstruction, he remained wandering outside with no news.

This person also seemed unconcerned about his presence in the snowy mountains. For a period she had even forgotten about him.

Now she suddenly remembered that after all these years of qi deviation, Murong Chou’s body was failing. By her judgment, he didn’t have much time left to live. Perhaps this was the real reason he hadn’t pursued her to the ends of the earth—the snowy mountains had to be closed because with her expelled and his time running short, the snowy mountains were masterless. He was waiting for that next-generation master to return.

Perhaps the great position of sect master was always prepared only for that young man. The forbidden poison manual in her hands, which she originally couldn’t access at all, was accidentally obtained from his old pillow during one of his long illnesses after qi deviation.

How did she know it wasn’t deliberately left by him as bait to guard against or even harm her? During those days of controlling the sect’s great power, she had to remotely control Gong Yin, study the Dragon family’s bloodline poison, crack the natural defects of snowy mountain martial arts, cultivate her own army of extraordinary people, control the snowy mountains and their subordinate sects, and repeatedly resist these silent temptations. She had no more energy to deal with that young man who had gone down the mountain early to train.

So that one sent flying free was the next-generation master…

She smiled coldly.

She was also now in the martial world—there would always be opportunities to meet. Murong Chou’s days were numbered. If that young man still had ambitions, there would inevitably be a life-or-death struggle.

She felt a vague sense of urgency in her heart. The sect was changing masters, she needed to eliminate strong enemies, and most importantly, she needed to cure her misfiring true qi.

She looked down at the water surface. It was said this waterway connected to all the wells of the great households around.

She needed to immediately obtain Ji Xiang, immediately take her blood, and needed people present to protect the process. Tonight at the Meng residence, not only were guests gathered like clouds, but all her mortal enemies were present. Gong Yin had played her for many years, delivering the final blow that caused her great defeat and flight. Jing Hengbo had thwarted her plans to seize the throne. Yelu Qi might even possess methods to crack her poison arts. For her to exercise martial arts for healing in front of this group, entering the most vulnerable state—even she dared not easily take such risks.

However, now crisis was imminent.

She looked down at the river water at her feet, then slowly lifted her foot.

Her toes touched the calm river surface without causing ripples.

Because the moment they touched down, the river surface made a soft “crack,” the clear water turned white, splitting into delicate ice patterns that spread like lightning in all directions, reflecting starlight from the deep blue canopy above.

Behind her, disciples stepped down one after another with crackling sounds. That patch of white instantly extended from the riverbank across the entire river, and beneath her feet, the frozen river surface gradually revealed a passage—a path of ice and snow formed by using true force to push aside the river water before freezing it, creating a direct route to the riverbed.

She walked down calmly, with disciples silently following.

Beneath the snow-white ice surface lay the dark riverbed. The white-clothed people filed woodenly into it like a ghostly legion about to descend into hell.

Where would this path lead?

To the other shore where cold reached.

…

When the garden feast’s lights suddenly went out, the entire Meng residence was immersed in darkness that seemed tranquil but was actually mysterious.

Jing Hengbo’s body had relaxed, but her eyes kept glancing at the darkness while all her senses were involuntarily mobilized.

For a moment, she felt the surrounding air seemed to grow cold. This cold feeling was too subtle yet too familiar, so she glanced at Gong Yin, thinking he was raising his true qi, causing the surrounding air to cool.

Gong Yin’s eyes were slightly lowered, showing no signs of gathering power. Yelu Qi seemed about to stand but glanced at her and remained seated. Pei Shu had also stood up, holding his wine cup and leaning against a flower tree beside the pathway.

Without realizing it, these three had all shifted positions, forming a triangular formation facing her direction.

This arrangement made Jing Hengbo somewhat uneasy. Just as she was thinking of an inconspicuous way to go over and ask what was happening, she suddenly heard everyone exclaim in surprise, then felt her eyes brighten.

Turning her head, she saw starlight suddenly blazing on the red carpet-covered pathway serving as the stage.

The light was very flickering, looking like a cluster of condensed stars that had suddenly fallen onto the stage, twinkling uncertainly, shapeshifting mysteriously, impossible to grasp.

Like a dancing galaxy suddenly breaking off a small section and falling to earth. Like a flowing waterfall carrying countless polished crystal stones, rising and falling brilliantly in view.

Because the surroundings were very dark, this not-particularly-bright light caught everyone’s attention. The light was neither lamp nor fire, with no illuminating objects visible. It seemed to glow naturally yet couldn’t be identified as anything specific, causing everyone to marvel in amazement.

Jing Hengbo couldn’t help remembering that earlier she had seemed to glimpse a ball of light but couldn’t find it when she looked back. This light was the same—seemingly formless and substanceless, drifting leisurely over. Fortunately, that large cluster of light was brilliant and beautiful, not reminiscent of ghostly fires.

Everyone couldn’t help stretching their necks. Someone said, “Could it be many candles?”

Someone scoffed, “Look at that light sparkling bit by bit—how could candles light up like that? Where are the candle bodies?”

Someone else guessed, “It looks like luminous pearls.”

“How could there be such a large cluster of luminous pearls? Besides, luminous pearls have overall smooth light, definitely not with some places dark and others bright like this.”

“Or perhaps countless tiny crystal fragments…”

“Here’s the problem again—how could crystal stones float in air?”

“Stuck to a body…”

“But that’s transparent—I can still see the flower trees behind that cluster of light!”

…

Hearing the word “transparent,” Jing Hengbo’s heart stirred, vaguely seeming to remember something but unable to grasp it.

At this moment exclamations rose again as someone screamed, “Wonderful! Look quickly!”

When Jing Hengbo turned again, she saw the cluster of light suddenly transform, and in the wavering, ethereal light, the character “百” (hundred) actually appeared.

Exclamations arose as everyone found it incredible. This cluster of light didn’t look like glowing objects arranged together—how could it suddenly form large characters?

The light flashed, everyone’s eyes flashed, and looking again, the character “年” (year) appeared.

Both transformations were extremely fast—even Jing Hengbo couldn’t see how the trick was performed.

She felt it was somewhat like face-changing opera, where one stroke changed one mask, relying on actors’ extraordinary speed developed through long practice. But how transparent light could combine into characters was still puzzling.

Another burst of amazed exclamations erupted.

Another cluster of light appeared.

Without warning, as if generated from thin air, another cluster appeared beside the first one. It sparkled like starlight, fine and dense. With a flip, the character “好” (good) appeared.

The crowd understood and shouted in unison: “合!” (unite!)

Accompanying their voices, that side indeed flipped to reveal the character “合” (unite).

Everyone congratulated in chorus: “百年好合!” (A hundred years of good union!) All found it wonderfully mysterious and applauded enthusiastically.

Those two clusters of starlight didn’t disappear with the appearance of these auspicious words. One cluster suddenly spread out, changing from round to elongated, rising upward. Only then could it be vaguely seen that it seemed to actually be human-shaped.

That figure was tall and graceful, flickering in and out of visibility. The distant dim lights of towers reflected and sparkled intermittently, creating an enchanting dance. The dance was soundless yet luminous, wandering mysteriously in the dark chaos—sometimes like countless stars bursting forth, sometimes taking the form of a phoenix soaring through nine heavens, sometimes with brilliant light spreading like a peacock trailing gorgeous tail feathers, sometimes gathering and contracting into a famous sword pointing straight to heaven, its gleaming tip connecting to stars and moon.

Everyone’s eyes held light—those lights gathered, scattered, condensed, flew apart… until finally, in everyone’s pupils, they transformed into countless seven-colored points of light. They forgot the shapes of those lights, remembering only that beneath the night sky, there had once fallen a rain of stars.

After these graceful poses, this cluster of silver light suddenly contracted and vanished in an instant. Jing Hengbo sensitively noticed that a distant light in the towers also seemed to have gone out.

On the other side, the second cluster of light that had appeared later leaped out. Unlike the previous tall, graceful form resembling a woman, this light band appeared robust and broad, with all its formations tending toward the masculine—like a fierce tiger roaring on a mountain ridge, like a male lion walking through dense forest, like a flying dragon looking down from nine heavens with contempt, like an eagle on a precipitous cliff using both wings to support the blue sky.

Needless to say, this was a display of masculine strength and fitness, harmoniously echoing the feminine grace and beauty from before.

More importantly, this wasn’t a dance people were accustomed to seeing. All the mimetic transformations, all the rising and falling dance movements, were merely illusory light, making them more brilliant and dazzling while inspiring greater imagination. Everyone’s eyes seemed to shatter into stars with twinkling light.

Just as they were entranced, lights gradually brightened from the end of the pathway all the way toward where the dancers were located. As brightness gradually returned, people felt a sense of loss, all staring intently at where those subtle lights flickered, wanting to see clearly what kind of two people they actually were. Then they discovered that as the lights grew brighter and closer, those two starlight streams grew dimmer. When the glazed lanterns closest to the two starlight streams lit up, everyone cried out in surprise—those two starlight streams had vanished.

Similarly, the scene everyone expected of seeing two people at the end of the pathway didn’t appear either.

The people were gone.

Everyone looked at each other in bewilderment.

Jing Hengbo smiled slightly and said to Meng Hu, who had somehow appeared beside her, “For you to find such people shows the Meng residence has extensive connections.”

“They’re friends of my elder brother,” Meng Hu laughed. “Rarely did they take interest in performing for everyone. These two are outstanding even in their own tribe. To earn praise from Your Majesty is an honor for our Meng residence. But Your Majesty, guess where they are now?”

Jing Hengbo’s gaze turned as she picked up her cup, smiling as she looked around in a circle, then walked to a table of young ladies. The girls all looked up at her admiringly and rose to pay their respects.

Jing Hengbo walked beside a tall girl whose skin was somewhat pale but whose cheeks were flushed red. She reached out to take down a lantern from the flower tree and shone it on her, smiling, “Come, let’s see a beauty under lamplight.”

Before her words finished, the young ladies exclaimed in surprise.

Under the lamplight, the girl turned her face slightly, and the turned half of her cheek suddenly flickered with subtle light in the lamplight, making it hard to distinguish clearly, as if she herself could generate light.

She looked at Jing Hengbo, smiled slightly and bowed, saying, “Your Majesty has keen eyes.”

Jing Hengbo looked across to the opposite side. At a table across from them, a young man stood up and raised his cup in a distant toast. His appearance was ordinary, but his one distinctive feature was that his face also sparkled under the lamplight.

Everyone showed surprise, but only Gong Yin and the others maintained calm expressions—such small tricks couldn’t impress them.

Jing Hengbo also smiled, raising her cup in a distant toast, saying, “The divine arts of the Liuli Tribe—truly living up to their reputation. Today I’ve truly been enlightened.”

Everyone went “Ah!” finally understanding.

The glazed swamps of the Liuli Tribe affected human skin. At first glance it looked normal, but from another angle, it would show glazed, sparkling colors that made it impossible to see clearly. If combined with special martial arts practice, it could make the entire body’s muscles and bones semi-transparent. By controlling lighting properly and utilizing human visual errors, it was easy to achieve “invisibility” effects.

However, the Liuli Tribe people had always been peaceful and rarely left their tribal territory, so people seldom saw them, making everyone marvel in amazement.

This interlude satisfied everyone. The glazed lanterns lit up one by one, dishes flowed like water onto the tables, the wedding feast was about to begin, and more commotion came from ahead. Everyone laughed and craned their necks, asking who would have good fortune tonight and achieve a good match.

Jing Hengbo was momentarily puzzled, but saw Old Madam Meng and Madam Meng beside her smiling as they rose, saying, “We married women shouldn’t join in this excitement.” They also laughingly pressed down Jing Hengbo who was about to rise with them, saying, “Your Majesty cannot leave—who knows, tonight’s flower match might fall to you.”

Jing Hengbo sat in bewilderment, looking left and right. Only unmarried young ladies remained around her on all sides. The girls were all blushing and bashfully lowering their heads. Looking at the men’s table across from them, it was the same—the young men’s expressions showed restless excitement. Not only that, but looking at Pei Shu’s expression, he seemed quite eager to try.

Then she saw a maid emerge from the direction of the bridal chamber at the end of the red carpet pathway, holding a box in her hands. Standing at the end of the pathway, she called out crisply, “The bride’s happiness flower, to be presented to all beauties.”

The young ladies smiled, pursing their lips as they stared at the box with gleaming eyes.

Obtaining the happiness flower was itself a very auspicious thing.

Meng Hu walked over and received another box from the groomsman’s hand, removing his own happiness flower and placing it in the box.

The so-called happiness flowers were, in Meng Kingdom wedding customs, gold-sprinkled red flowers tied to the bride’s waist and the groom’s chest, symbolizing celebration and good fortune.

The male groomsman called out loudly, “Flowers given in abundance, may good matches be formed.”

The two boxes were passed among male and female guests separately, from back to front. Guests each drew flowers from the boxes, which were filled with flowers made of colored satin. They were similar in shape and texture to the happiness flowers, just different in color. There was only one true red with gold sprinkling.

Various colored satin flowers were drawn out amid laughter and sighs of regret in the crowd. Watching the boxes passed forward continuously with more and more flowers drawn but still no true red appearing, someone laughed, “With today’s gathering of national beauties, there should ultimately be only one such flower. If Heaven wills it, that flower should go to that lady.”

Someone else laughed, “If the other happiness flower falls into the hands of one of those three, who knows what will happen.” The laughter was quite meaningful.

Someone laughed, “Perhaps we’ll witness a dragon-tiger fight.”

Those who loved martial arts and excitement immediately lit up with anticipation. To see so many legendary figures gathered and possibly take action in Meng Kingdom was truly a rare blessing in life.

By this point, whether they themselves could get the happiness flower no longer mattered. Everyone’s gaze fell on the head tables on both sides.

Jing Hengbo looked at everyone’s eyes and knocked on the table with amusement, saying to Meng Potian beside her who looked somewhat listless, “Such painstaking efforts.”

“Naturally,” Meng Potian said lazily. “To bring you and the State Preceptor together, look at how much effort the entire Meng residence has put in.”

Jing Hengbo glanced at her expression, seeing slight melancholy on her face, knowing the girl was touched by seeing others’ joy today. Actually, wasn’t she touched herself? Which woman in the prime of youth didn’t anticipate a magnificent and splendid wedding? It was just that with so many people staring intently, it would be too embarrassing to show such obvious longing.

Thinking of Meng Potian’s circumstances, she also felt somewhat wistful. Meng Potian and Pei Shu had shared life and death, accompanying each other all along. Meng Potian had even betrayed the Daimo martial world and her own family for him. Originally the dignified Sixth Miss Meng who commanded a gang, she now wandered the martial world unable to return home. What was more frustrating was that the person she liked always pursued someone else with his eyes…

Thinking that this “someone else” was herself, Jing Hengbo suddenly felt guilty, thinking that Meng Potian not poisoning her wine cup showed remarkable generosity. The more she thought about it, the more guilt she felt. Wanting to cheer her up, she pursed her lips and said, “Actually, this kind of wedding is quite boring. When you marry in the future, I’ll definitely make it lively for you.”

“How lively?” Meng Potian looked listless, but her eyes brightened slightly when she heard the words “marry.”

“Where I used to stay, weddings were so exciting! Well, though they didn’t have the complex etiquette and complicated rules here, they were fun. There would be long colorful stages, um, somewhat like this one, extended colorful cars, special masters of ceremonies, flowers and champagne, projection screens showing the love story, and the bride wouldn’t sit foolishly waiting in the bridal chamber but would accompany the groom table by table for toasts. During the toasting process, there would be teasing—like lighting cigarettes for everyone, hanging an apple in the air requiring both people to eat it completely using only their mouths without hands, jumping on tables to drink cross-cupped wine…”

Meng Potian’s eyes gradually brightened. With her personality, she would naturally yearn for such lively and interesting weddings where she could stay beside her beloved.

Jing Hengbo had originally intended to cheer her up, but after talking about wedding games and bridal chamber teasing, her heart suddenly felt slightly sour. Glancing at Gong Yin, she thought that even if she married him, the bridal chamber definitely couldn’t be lively like that. Who would dare put eggs in his trouser legs? Who would dare make her use her mouth to grab snacks from his body? Who would dare ask him to clamp a water bottle with his legs for her to bite open the cap and drink, saying “Farmer Spring Water is a bit sweet”?

In minutes she’d be frozen into a popsicle, cold all over, right?

Life was truly lonely as snow…

…

Time returned to that earlier moment when all the garden lights went out.

Several black shadows silently drifted over the Meng residence’s courtyard walls. The leader seemed to be carrying something heavy on his shoulder, yet his form remained as ethereal as snowflakes. With a touch of his toes on the wall, he had already crossed several zhang.

Tonight the Meng residence was celebrating with guests gathering like clouds. The guards naturally couldn’t be careless, dividing into two shifts—one patrolling, one gathered in the gatehouse eating the feast bestowed from above. Though they couldn’t drink alcohol, the dishes were all fine delicacies from land and sea. Those resting in the gatehouse ate with great enthusiasm, while those patrolling were distracted thinking about that hot food, patrolling absent-mindedly.

So when those black shadows took advantage of the darkness to cross the walls, no guards discovered them. But after that team of guards who were drooling over the garden feast passed by, several long, thin shadows emerged from corners, bushes, and under eaves, chasing after the earlier black shadows.

These were the Meng residence’s true guard force—the re-contacted Wasp Stings, bearing tonight’s real secret protection mission. Those figures who had sneaked over the walls under cover of darkness naturally couldn’t escape their eyes.

The infiltrating shadows seemed unaware of the Wasp Stings following behind, unhurriedly heading toward the bridal chamber. The bridal chamber was indeed brightly lit with women going in and out.

Those black-clothed figures suddenly stopped at an empty courtyard in front of the bridal chamber area just before approaching it, and swept inside.

The Wasp Stings exchanged glances and followed them in. There was nothing to worry about—this was the Meng residence after all. While the Meng residence’s own guards weren’t very useful, Marshal Pei’s Horizontal Halberd elite soldiers were in the outer courtyard attending the feast and could provide support at any time.

That courtyard was empty—an unused courtyard of the Meng residence. The most conspicuous feature in the yard was a well.

The leading black-clothed figure went straight to the well and without a word threw the figure he’d been carrying on his shoulder down the well.

This action was completely beyond the pursuing Wasp Stings’ expectations. They had thought these people were carrying some important object, or at least some important person. Who would have thought they’d suddenly throw it down a well? Could this really be some enemy of the Meng family taking advantage of the celebration to throw a corpse in their well for bad luck?

Those black shadows were quite decisive. After throwing the person down the well, they turned and left, not even heading toward the inner courtyard but straight for the outer walls, apparently genuinely planning to leave.

This again exceeded the Wasp Stings’ expectations. With no choice, they first sent someone to signal the Horizontal Halberd elite guards in the outer courtyard, while they themselves stayed to investigate what was in the well.

The capable and vigorous men swept over. Though this courtyard had no people, it was kept very clean. Even the well’s edge had no moss, emanating a faint cold aura.

A Wasp Sting with the best lightness skills reached the well’s edge first, peering down to gauge the bottom’s situation, cautiously planning to see clearly before descending.

Then he saw inky blackness slowly rising from the darkness.

For a moment, he thought he saw the top of the head of the person thrown into the well, wondering how this person could be standing in the well—could the well be very shallow? Then he discovered that the black thing was moving upward, and he saw a patch of white and felt bone-chilling cold.

This cold was hard to describe—more frightening than being thrown naked into an icy lake in the depths of winter. That kind of cold was like knives and swords, carrying the sinister, deathly chill of murder and death. He couldn’t even shiver before collapsing stiffly, half his body turning ghastly white, half ghastly blue as he fell.

In his final vision, he saw a white figure slowly rising from the well, carrying another person. Only then did he understand that the earlier rising blackness was a person ascending from the well bottom, needing no assistance to rise from the well bottom.

He struggled, wanting to warn his companions that a terrible enemy had come, but when he moved his mouth, he heard the sound of icicles clashing against each other inside. Even his blood had frozen.

Cold spread endlessly.

White figures kept rising from the well bottom, looking from afar like an ice spring suddenly bubbling up.

The Wasp Stings in the courtyard lay scattered about. These elites normally wouldn’t be so helpless, but due to momentary carelessness, cold poison instantly penetrated their blood. Without even sounds or struggles, they died rigidly.

Xu Pingran stepped out of the well expressionlessly, holding the unconscious Ji Xiang. Without glancing at the corpses at her feet, she surveyed the surroundings and focused particularly on the distant garden with its melodious music, a flash of disgust crossing her eyes.

She very much wanted to go to that garden right now, trample all those mortal enemies underfoot, and freeze that couple’s brilliant red wedding feast into ghastly white.

Her own wedding had been conducted in ghastly white. The snowy mountains pursued immaculate purity—even wedding feasts didn’t use vulgar red. The brightest and most colorful day in a woman’s life, she had faced nothing but white.

So no one knew that she actually detested white—ghastly pale and empty, with nowhere to place one’s hopes.

She also detested human celebrations, those bright and rich things that belonged to others and that she could never possess.

Behind her, a disciple respectfully asked, “Madam, shall we proceed here…”

Xu Pingran looked back at this courtyard. Though empty of people, these deaths here would soon alarm others. This place wasn’t suitable for her immediate martial practice.

The most dangerous place was the safest.

“Go to the bride’s chamber,” she said.

…

The box containing happiness flowers grew lighter and lighter. Everyone had an additional bright satin flower in their hands. No one looked disappointed—all wore interested expressions watching the head tables of male and female guests. Obviously, the hosts had made an elegant manipulation. This flower would definitely fall into the hands of the Queen and her man, but the problem was—there were three men!

Others were interested in why the happiness flowers hadn’t been found before—presumably the boxes or flowers had already been tampered with.

The handsome young male and female servants carrying the boxes smiled as they walked toward the head tables. Following Meng Hu’s earlier instructions, they lightly pushed with their fingers at the box bottoms. The happiness flowers that had been hidden under the box bottoms and held in their hands only now entered the boxes.

However, the people at the head tables weren’t just Jing Hengbo and Gong Yin’s group. At the women’s table sat an unmarried princess of Meng Kingdom’s royal family for company, and at the men’s table, besides Gong Yin’s trio, there were also unmarried princes of Meng Kingdom.

Jing Hengbo propped her chin with her hand, smiling as she watched. She was also quite curious about how exactly Meng Hu would manipulate things.

The man and woman carrying boxes walked side by side, each on one side of the pathway. Suddenly the lights dimmed again, and sounds of celebratory gongs and drums arose on the pathway. Everyone instinctively turned to look and saw a woman taking the stage for wrestling entertainment—this was also a common program in Meng Kingdom’s celebratory activities. Women’s fighting was flowery fists and embroidered legs, but they often dressed scantily, much welcomed by men. Many people’s attention was drawn over.

At this moment, fewer people paid attention to the box-carrying pair. Just as they walked beside the flower trees near the head tables, the trees swayed and the glazed lanterns on them also swayed slightly. Some fluttering colored ribbons brushed over the boxes, and with the current juggling fire-swallowing performances creating confusing lights, the pathway stage appeared even more colorful and dazzling, making people’s eyes swim.

The two quickly passed the flower trees.

The box was brought before Jing Hengbo.

Jing Hengbo smilingly deferred to the Meng Kingdom princess, but the princess claimed she dared not precede her. Seeing that expression, Jing Hengbo knew she planned to watch the show, so she stopped declining and reached into the box.

As soon as her hand entered the box, she smiled slightly.

Good grief, too obvious, right?

Inside the box wasn’t what she’d expected—just one flower. There should be several more, but the topmost one seemed somewhat sticky.

Without question, this flower should be the happiness flower. Jing Hengbo usually wore thin leather gloves that affected touch sensitivity slightly. If she guessed correctly, without gloves the flower would have stuck to her hand.

The only strange thing was that the box had been carried over long ago. If there had been adhesive from the beginning, either people would have discovered it early or the glue would have dried. But her feeling was that this was freshly applied—very moist.

Since someone was willing to help others achieve happiness, why spoil the mood? Jing Hengbo was never one to oppose others unnecessarily. She smiled sweetly and reached for that flower.

Before taking it, she glanced sideways and saw across from her that Gong Yin was also reaching for a flower. He slightly lowered his face, seemingly still expressionless, but the familiar Jing Hengbo seemed to already see his slightly upturned lips.

He must have seen through it too.

Jing Hengbo also felt some anticipation, because she vaguely knew that if two people who drew happiness flowers were already lovers, someone would make matches on the spot, someone would create a commotion on the spot. She very much wanted to see Gong Yin’s reaction.

Sitting beside Gong Yin was Yelu Qi, who looked at that box with a half-smile, wearing an expression of “I know what tricks you’re playing and can’t be bothered to care.” He suddenly stood up with his wine cup and went to find Qi Sha and Tian Qi at another table for drinks.

Sitting across from him was Pei Shu, who had never liked Gong Yin. Seeing this expression, he snorted coldly and suddenly raised his chopsticks, sneering, “Today I wear red robes, most suitable for gold-sprinkled red flowers. Why don’t I try my luck first?”

Saying this, he reached with his chopsticks toward Gong Yin’s wrist. His strike was like wind—if Gong Yin didn’t yield, those chopsticks would strike his wrist hard.

How could Gong Yin bother arguing with him? In his view, what could one flower represent? He casually pushed the box over. Pei Shu’s chopsticks descended, sank, and lifted—remarkably revealing a gold-sprinkled, bright red flower!

Pei Shu’s lips curled up. His obsidian-like eyes turned toward Jing Hengbo as he raised the flower on his chopstick tips toward her, smiling with satisfaction and cunning.

Meng Hu let out a painful and regretful sigh.

The glazed lanterns spun round and round, their hanging silk ribbons colliding with golden bells, producing what sounded like a melancholy sigh.

Jing Hengbo smiled helplessly—unexpected yet logical. Pei Shu was simply someone who refused to let sleeping dogs lie.

Though the situation was slightly awkward, it was easily resolved. She could just take another flower. Jing Hengbo’s fingers were about to avoid that obvious happiness flower when Meng Potian beside her suddenly said, “The State Preceptor yielded to the Marshal—would Your Majesty also be willing to yield to me?”

Jing Hengbo laughed, “Of course, I should let you go first since you’re sitting behind me. Come, try your luck.”

She withdrew her hand with a smile. Across from them, Pei Shu’s face had already darkened as he glared fiercely at Meng Potian.

Meng Potian paid him no mind, giving him a provocative smile as she reached into the box. She also revealed the same mysterious smile as Jing Hengbo and shot Pei Shu a triumphant look, making his face darken another shade.

Under everyone’s expectant gazes, Meng Potian unhesitatingly withdrew her hand, which glowed red—the gold-sprinkled happiness flower!

Meng Hu laughed heartily, feeling this outcome was quite good too, especially seeing Marshal Pei’s expression.

A barely audible sigh seemed to drift on the wind, full of regret, but it was drowned in the current laughter and joy, unheard by anyone.

The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers and applause, yet couldn’t help laughing as they looked between Pei Shu and Meng Potian. Some well-informed people knew something about these two’s entanglement, and someone immediately laughed, “Truly a heaven-sent match! The Marshal and Miss Meng are perfectly matched in talent and beauty. They both follow the Queen, accompanying each other all along with life-and-death friendship. Could there be a more suitable couple?”

Jing Hengbo smiled approvingly. Everyone nodded repeatedly. Meng Potian beamed with joy, staring at Pei Shu who had turned his face away, and loudly declared, “Exactly!”

Everyone was startled by the girl’s boldness, then smiled knowingly. Pei Shu slammed down his chopsticks with a “pa!” The gold-sprinkled happiness flower on the chopstick tips slid into the soup, which he ignored as he angrily said, “Nonsense!”

The two glared at each other across flower trees and lamplight, both with pairs of bright dark eyes—like sparks in darkness and flowing light in blazing sun. Even their expressions were somewhat similar. Watching them, everyone found it increasingly amusing and felt these two were truly well-matched in temperament and appearance, making the heckling even more enthusiastic.

Old Madam Meng immediately laughed, “Miss Meng has a forthright nature, and the Marshal is also a straightforward gentleman. Our Meng Kingdom’s happiness flower connections are actually quite rare and divinely accurate. This is heaven’s will and shouldn’t be opposed. This old woman very much looks forward to seeing another beautiful story achieved at our Meng residence’s wedding feast.”

She spoke politely and subtly, while more people directly laughed and said, “Exactly, exactly! Happiness flowers are rare, and lovers matched by happiness flowers are even rarer. The Marshal and Miss Meng must not disappoint such divine destiny, or it would be inauspicious.”

“If the Marshal is willing, this old man would gladly serve as matchmaker to achieve this good match,” Old Duke Meng struck while the iron was hot.

“Miss Meng is an honored guest in our residence. This old woman would also gladly handle the arrangements,” Old Madam Meng also smiled in agreement.

Hearing those words about “those who oppose being inauspicious,” Jing Hengbo frowned, feeling somehow uncomfortable.

Looking up across the way, she saw that the more enthusiastically and actively everyone urged, the worse Pei Shu’s expression became. He had been enduring it by drinking and ignoring them, but now he had heavily set down his wine cup and was about to speak.

She immediately glared fiercely at him.

Pei Shu’s expression froze.

Beside Jing Hengbo, Meng Potian suddenly sighed leisurely.

Knowing she had seen this scene, Jing Hengbo felt somewhat embarrassed and turned to smile at her, “Potian, you know Pei Shu’s temperament—he’s a stubborn mule who won’t move when led but backs up when driven. With everyone urging him, he’s feeling embarrassed instead. Don’t you think…”

“What’s there for him to be embarrassed about?” Meng Potian laughed coldly. “It’s just that the person isn’t right.”

Jing Hengbo coughed, feeling there was really nothing to say. Meng Potian stared at Pei Shu across from them for a long while, her dark eyes gradually becoming moist with a gentle gleam as she softly said, “When you described that kind of wedding earlier, I really looked forward to having such a day myself…”

The glazed lamplight flickered reddish, and her eyes seemed to flicker too, crystal bright, reflecting this night’s prosperity and celebration that belonged to others.

Jing Hengbo felt her throat somewhat dry and hoarse, secretly regretting why she had brought up those things. In front of someone whose heart was lost and disappointed by unattainable desires, any description of weddings was a cruel stimulation.

“I’ll never have it in this lifetime,” Meng Potian said to herself. “Even if… even if just one of those things, it would be good to try.”

Her expression was slightly confused, as if encountering thick fog, unable to escape life’s valley. Jing Hengbo somehow felt desolate in her heart too, feeling every word was inauspicious and unbearable to hear. She couldn’t help consoling, “Potian, this matter can’t be rushed. As long as you’re sincere, he’ll come around eventually. Don’t give up…” Though she spoke fluently, the words felt hollow and false. With Pei Shu’s stubborn, almost unreasonable temperament, how could he change direction so easily?

Meng Potian seemed to laugh briefly, or perhaps not, saying leisurely, “As long as you’re there, as long as you haven’t refused him, his heart and his hope will always remain with you.”

This was the first time she had clearly expressed dissatisfaction with Jing Hengbo. Jing Hengbo was stunned and said somewhat sadly, “I have refused him.”

“Ultimately, it’s not enough,” Meng Potian sighed deeply.

Jing Hengbo wondered—even if she severed ties completely, ruthlessly breaking off relations, would it really work? Would it really make Pei Shu turn to Meng Potian? If it could, she would rather lose an excellent general, but were human emotions really such an either-or matter?

But she couldn’t say this to Meng Potian—different positions naturally led to different thoughts.

“Your Majesty seems very sincere about wanting to help me succeed,” Meng Potian suddenly said. “I haven’t thanked you yet for yielding the happiness flower.”

“Potian,” Jing Hengbo said, “I only wish our friendship to remain as before. I only wish you could achieve your heart’s desire.”

“Then let Your Majesty make your sincerity more obvious, so I can… completely give up hope,” Meng Potian suddenly stood up.

Jing Hengbo looked at her in bewilderment, but Meng Potian ignored her. As she rose, she naturally became the center of everyone’s attention. By now, everyone’s laughter was no longer as comfortable as before, all carrying slight embarrassment. No matter how much they encouraged and congratulated, Pei Shu very rudely ignored them all. His rejection was so obvious that everyone felt embarrassed for Meng Potian. The congratulatory enthusiasm cooled down, and just as they wondered how to gracefully exit this situation, they suddenly saw Meng Potian stand up at this moment, all looking at her with some surprise.

Meng Potian only looked at Pei Shu. Her eyes and her world had always contained only this one person, yet this person always turned a blind eye, walking forward, walking forward, preferring to crash into others’ worlds rather than pause for the flowers blooming before her.

Then she smiled slightly.

This journey of pursuit had already exhausted her energy. During this period, she had always seemed silent, like a shadow heavy with worries, as if her former brilliance had all been worn away by this hopeless love. However, at this moment, the woman standing before the wine tables under glazed lanterns held her head slightly high. A glazed lantern cast a soft, reddish glow that swept across her delicate chin, and that slightly upturned corner of her lips was thin as red water chestnuts, adorned with a dimple of intoxicating beauty.

Her long, thick eyelashes seemed to sparkle with starlight and moisture, making her entire person glow in everyone’s eyes.

Such ethereal beauty made even Pei Shu pause and couldn’t help looking into her eyes.

Meng Potian looked directly at him, her voice clear and laughing, “Hey, if you won’t marry me, you won’t marry me. I knew that no matter how willing I am, you definitely won’t be willing.”

She spoke these words clearly, and everyone heard them distinctly. Seeing no embarrassment on her face, they couldn’t help feeling surprised, sad, and admiring.

Not everyone had such courage to confess publicly.

Pei Shu hadn’t expected her to be so direct. He had a stubborn temperament—pressure would make him angry, but when someone actually stood across from him with tears in their smiling eyes saying such things, he felt he was being excessive. Looking again at everyone’s expressions, his face also reddened slightly as he coughed and remained awkwardly silent.

Meng Potian watched his expression and added, “Since you won’t marry me, that’s fine, but you’ve embarrassed me—shouldn’t you compensate me?”

Feeling guilty at this moment, Pei Shu wanted to give Meng Potian a way out, but afraid she might make unreasonable demands, he asked somewhat warily, “Compensate you how?”

Meng Potian smiled as if completely guileless, “Drink a cup of wine with me.” She pointed around, “Publicly.”

Pei Shu breathed a sigh of relief and readily agreed, “Fine.” He reached for the wine pot to pour, but Meng Potian shook her head, “That’s not how you drink it.”

Pei Shu looked at her in confusion. Meng Potian turned back and smiled lightly at Jing Hengbo, “Your Majesty, I’d like you to demonstrate that arm-crossing cup wine you mentioned earlier for Pei Shu to see.”

Jing Hengbo stared into her eyes and suddenly understood.

This woman was actually playing mind games today.

Meng Potian wanting to drink with Pei Shu was false—forcing her, Jing Hengbo, to publicly prove her lack of interest in Pei Shu, thus making Pei Shu completely give up hope, was true.

Jing Hengbo thought about it, sighed, and decided this was also good.

The cup wine at this time, also called nuptial wine, was only for married couples in the bridal chamber. The method wasn’t the bold arm-crossing of spouses, but rather newlyweds each taking a wine cup, first drinking half, then exchanging cups to finish together. After drinking, they would throw the cups one upright, one inverted under the bed, signifying a hundred years of harmonious union.

What Meng Potian mentioned was the modern cross-arm cup wine she had described earlier.

She stood up with a smile, picked up her own wine cup, and laughed, “That wine isn’t drunk in the ordinary way. Let me personally demonstrate it for the Marshal.”

Pei Shu’s eyes lit up, probably very much anticipating Jing Hengbo personally drinking wine with him.

But Yelu Qi, who had been at Qi Sha’s table all along, had always seen everything clearly and was more willing to acknowledge reality than Pei Shu. At this moment, he only smiled faintly, his luminous eyes occasionally glancing toward the dark pavilions and towers.

Jing Hengbo walked to that table, meeting Pei Shu’s expectant gaze, turned around, and stood before Gong Yin.

Gong Yin looked up at her, his gaze clear as springs atop snowy mountains, brightly reflecting only her.

Jing Hengbo poured him a cup of wine, smiled and reached out to pull him up. Gong Yin’s eyes seemed to hold laughter, but he didn’t refuse. After rising, he was about to clink cups with her when Jing Hengbo stepped back slightly, then gently rose on her tiptoes, bringing her wine cup around Gong Yin’s neck.

The great cup crossing.

The surroundings fell silent in an instant, with gasps of surprise, followed moments later by uproarious laughter that nearly shook the flower trees on all sides.

The Queen’s boldness truly lived up to her reputation!

Meng Hu smiled broadly—where you deliberately plant flowers they won’t bloom, but where you carelessly plant willows they flourish!

Yelu Qi slightly turned sideways, diagonally facing that table, talking and laughing quietly with Yi Qi, seemingly not seeing this scene. Yi Qi held his forehead looking very troubled, sighing long and mournfully, “Arrived a moment too late…”

Yelu Qi only smiled without speaking—too late? He was still the one who arrived early, so what? Fate was like rain clouds—no one knew whether they would drift away after pausing, no one knew on whose head they would ultimately shower sweet rain.

Jing Hengbo only looked at Gong Yin. She wanted to see his expression at this moment, wanted to see whether he would still escape from this wordless confession.

Gong Yin seemed to pause in surprise.

His lowered long eyelashes swept across the back of her hand.

Near his lips were wine fragrance and her body scent. Her fingers were slender, fingertips smooth and soft, gently brushing his jaw and neck with an itch that seemed to penetrate his bones.

Because her entire arm went around his neck, her whole body leaned forward, her lips almost touching his cheek. A faint, rich fragrance came from her—three parts charming, three parts mysterious. The fragrance enveloped this delicate woman, vigorous when expanding, graceful when restrained. Her undulating curves were poetry, every breath could compose music in his heart.

All around were gazes, but in her gaze was only him.

His heart rippled slightly—this rippling had nothing to do with romance, only emotion.

Moved that she had always been like this toward him—openly declaring without regard for anything, pursuing persistently while letting go of burdens.

When she did so much for him, how could he retreat and avoid?

Under Meng Hu’s nervous yet slightly surprised gaze, under everyone’s gaze, he raised his arm, held up his wine cup, and following her example, gently went around her neck.

Like mandarin ducks sleeping with intertwined necks, each holding the other close.

They looked at each other and smiled, raising their cups simultaneously.

Drained completely.

I exchange necks, cups, hearts with you at this moment, and this mortal world’s tumultuous journey of countless affections.

Only you and I know that this cup also finally delivers this lifetime with complete honesty.

In this instant, the vast courtyard fell completely still, everyone sitting motionless, quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

The moonlight was clear and transparent, the glazed lanterns red. Under the lights, his and her silhouettes were delicate and exquisite—each representing the ultimate beauty of male and female forms. With arms linked and bodies dependent on each other, their necks formed the most beautiful arc in the human world, as if one could hear the tinkling sound of wine pouring.

Everyone felt only warmth, beauty, tranquility, and joy, reluctant to break this moment.

In the complete silence, Jing Hengbo gently set down her wine cup. Her mood at this moment was hazy and intoxicated, as if in a trance she was truly drinking nuptial wine with him in their bridal chamber. But suddenly she vaguely sensed something strange and unconsciously sobered up.

As she set down the wine cup and looked down, she suddenly saw a bowl in front of her.

Under the lamplight, all colors were distorted. She was still somewhat dazed, staring blankly, and instinctively looked again.

Her expression changed dramatically.