Chapter 5: The Grand Wedding

Under the support of two attendants, Summer Qingyue finally appeared before Xiao Che, her presence as radiant as a moonlit night. She wore a magnificent crimson phoenix crown, its cascading pearl curtains veiling her face entirely, obscuring her features and expression from view. Her jet-black hair was softly pinned behind her, and she draped herself in a flowing, high-waisted red robe embroidered with auspicious cloud patterns, her slender waist cinched by a delicate jade belt. Beneath the belt hung pearl tassels, and she wore golden silk shoes, her entire attire a spectacle of opulence that seemed to outshine the sun itself.

Supported by the attendants, Qingyue glided toward Xiao Che beside the bridal sedan chair, each step as graceful as a cloud drifting through the sky. While an ordinary woman might walk with measured steps, on her, movement itself seemed divine, as if a celestial being had descended to earth. Every gesture she made was a masterpiece of elegance, leaving Xiao Che utterly enchanted.

At last, Qingyue reached the sedan chair, and the attendants stepped back. By the customs of the Xiao Empire, the groom was to carry his bride into the sedan chair. Xiao Che took a step forward, extending his hand. Qingyue lifted her arm gracefully—yet just as her hand neared his, a searing chill surged through his palm, freezing his right hand and arm rigid with pain, leaving him utterly still. Her hand hovered above his, her body flowing into the sedan chair with serene grace… to onlookers, it seemed she had been guided into it by his support.

The icy sensation faded, and Xiao Che’s arm dropped limply to his side. His expression remained calm, unmoved, save for a fleeting furrow of his brow at the sudden chill. No sound escaped his lips.

If one were to lift Qingyue’s pearl curtain, they might glimpse a momentary flash of surprise in her jewel-like eyes—only for it to quickly harden into indifference.

Xiao Che mounted his horse, and the wedding procession surged forward, followed swiftly by the Qing family’s retinue racing toward the Xiao estate.

An hour later, the procession returned to the Xiao ancestral home. The journey had been swift and smooth, with no dramatic confrontations or wedding-day dramas to speak of—leaving many who had anticipated such spectacles profoundly disappointed.

Xiao Lie stood at the mansion’s entrance, greeting the arriving guests. Most came not for Xiao Che himself, but for Xiao Lie and the Qing family. With Xiao Lie’s authority in Liu Cloud City and the Qing family’s vast influence, the gathering was immense. Outside the grand gates, crowds pressed along the roads, all to witness the departure of the most celebrated beauty of Liu Cloud City.

The bridal sedan came to a gentle halt. A corner of the curtain was lifted, and Qingyue’s maid, Qing Bingling, softly announced, “My lady, we have arrived.”

A hand emerged, and Qingyue stepped down gracefully with Qing Bingling’s support. In that instant, the raucous sounds of the crowd fell silent, replaced by a chorus of gasps.

It was nearly noon, and the sun bathed Qingyue in a gentle, golden light. Her phoenix crown and flowing silk robes gleamed like jewels, radiant and dazzling. Her four-tiered phoenix crown adorned her high, ornate cloud-shaped bun, decorated with exquisite golden hairpins. Delicate carved jade phoenix and dragon tassels swayed from her shoulders. She wore a crimson silk robe embroidered with auspicious clouds, a matching wide sash at her waist, and golden silk shoes. Pearls and jade tassels dangled from her crown, their gentle sway revealing her arched eyebrows, pale skin, bright eyes, and rose-tinted lips—features so exquisite they defied description. Though her face remained hidden, she seemed like a celestial maiden descending to earth, her beauty beyond mortal ken.

A wave of breathless sighs erupted around her, many a guest blinking rapidly to regain their composure. This was Qingyue’s allure—her beauty, though veiled, radiated an otherworldly charm that made her seem like a deity stepped from a painting, her presence impossible to look away from.

A red silk ribbon was tied around Qingyue’s hand by Qing Bingling, the other end naturally looped through Xiao Che’s fingers. Xiao Che smiled warmly, leading her past the fire pit, over the saddle, and through the Qing family’s threshold into the hall.

Inside the Xiao estate’s main hall, the clamor of voices continued unabated. Xiao Che’s expression remained serene, his steps steady, eager to conclude this ordeal.

The central hall, reserved for the Xiao family’s most solemn occasions, had been lavishly decorated. Golden crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling, carved dragons played across the walls, and rare gems glittered overhead. A crimson carpet stretched down the center, leading to a golden staircase that gleamed under the soft light. The Xiao family had spared no expense for this union, their generosity evident in every detail.

At the hall’s apex sat Xiao Lie and Qing Hongyi, both beaming with pride as Qingyue entered. The purple sandalwood tables flanked the red carpet, each occupied by guests. At the head of the hall sat Xiao Yunhai, the Xiao family’s patriarch, flanked by four senior elders. When Xiao Che entered, their expressions remained unchanged, but their eyes betrayed open disdain.

As members of the Xiao Sect, a direct descendant of Xiao Che—born with a crippled cultivation—was a source of shame. Though he was Xiao Lie’s grandson, his presence here was an affront to their traditions. If not for Qingyue, the Qing family’s most prized jewel, he would have been banished entirely. Yet here he stood, married to the most coveted beauty of Liu Cloud City, a humiliation they could neither deny nor ignore.

To them, Xiao Che was nothing but a failure. In the Tianxuan Continent, power determined status, even within one’s own clan. Such was the harsh reality.

The Xiao family’s younger generation wore expressions of equal dismay. Their eyes lingered on Qingyue, filled with longing, then flicked to Xiao Che with barely concealed resentment. How could this crippled outsider, whom they scorned, wed the most radiant beauty of Liu Cloud City? The sight of them together, hand in hand, entering the marriage chamber, was unbearable.

The wedding officiant, Xiao De, head of the Xiao family’s affairs, raised his voice to begin the ceremony.

As the officiant recited the vows, Xiao Che remained composed, his mind preoccupied with a single question: What power had Qingyue used to freeze his hand? It felt like an alchemical technique, yet none like it existed in Liu Cloud City. Qingyue, at just sixteen, had already reached the tenth level of the Foundation Establishment realm—a prodigy. Yet how could such a low-level cultivator unleash such devastating cold energy? What technique could wield such power at this stage?

Or perhaps… Qingyue, so young and powerful, still concealed her strength?

The officiant’s chant faltered. A pause followed, then his voice boomed:

“First bow to Heaven and Earth!”

Xiao Che’s spirit quickened. He glanced sideways at Qingyue, and together, they bowed in unison to the heavens.

“Second bow to the elders!”

They turned, bowing respectfully toward Xiao Lie and Qing Hongyi. Xiao Lie smiled and nodded, his eyes soft with paternal affection as he regarded his grandson and new daughter-in-law. Qing Hongyi returned the bow with a warm smile, her face free of any resentment.

“Bless the union!”

Xiao Che turned to Qingyue, and she mirrored his motion without hesitation. Their synchronized movement drew murmurs from the Xiao family’s younger members. In their minds, Qingyue would never accept such a match—she must have been forced into it by the Qing family. Yet here she stood, obedient and composed, revealing no sign of resistance.

As they bowed, a cold, emotionless gaze flickered through Qingyue’s veil.

At this moment, thunderous applause and cheers should have erupted. Instead, the hall echoed with a few scattered claps, the awkward silence deafening.

“Ah, Fifth Patriarch, congratulations,” Xiao Yunhai said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. At forty, his face bore a gentle expression.

“Indeed, the Fifth Patriarch has done well to gain such a daughter-in-law,” another elder, Xiao Li, replied with equal feigned enthusiasm.

The Second Patriarch, Xiao Bo, chuckled hollowly. “Our entire Xiao Sect basks in glory through this union. The Qing family, merchants by trade, has found a suitable son-in-law. Congratulations, indeed.”

The hall grew colder still. Their words of “congratulations” dripped with mockery, clear to anyone but the most naive.