Chapter 667: Kneeling Must Be Repaid

Chapter 667: Kneeling Must Be Repaid

When Cui Yuanyang emerged from the secret realm with the resplendent Qinghe, the clan elders waiting outside were overcome with joy and surprise, instantly dropping to their knees.

The sword’s aura was still familiar, unmistakably the Qinghe in their hearts, yet stronger than any of them remembered.

It wasn’t that Qinghe had grown stronger; rather, in their early encounters with it, the sword had long ceased to deign to acknowledge these people.

Later, when Cui Wenjing wielded it across the world, Qinghe had never unleashed its true power. After Xia Longyuan stole half its soul force, it had fallen into a deep slumber, its emanating presence weaker than even the early Longque—when placed beside Longque, others felt only the latter’s killing intent.

But now, Qinghe was vast and unmatched, illuminating all hidden evils; even those harboring sinister thoughts would tremble and break into cold sweat at the sight of it. Such majesty befitted an ancient divine sword. Even masterless, it was Earth-grade superior; if its master were strong enough—say, in the hands of Piaomiao—it would undoubtedly be Heaven-grade!

When four such divine swords formed a sword formation, it was no wonder they could drag Xia Longyuan and other clan heads together into the fray. In that chaotic battle, everyone, including Xia Longyuan, found the sword formation the most troublesome, not their opponents. Only in Xia Longyuan’s dying flash, when he briefly regained his strength as the surface’s strongest, could he sever the four swords—and even then, he died from the backlash. Had he been weaker earlier, he couldn’t have broken them at all.

Now, the other three swords were fragments; only Qinghe remained.

Zhao Changhe’s Star River Sword was still an infant, never having undergone the tempering of battle alongside its master, nor tasted blood worthy of its caliber—too early to judge. Apart from it, Qinghe was likely the strongest sword on the surface!

It recognized only Cui Yuanyang as its master... meaning that even if Cui Yuanyang were merely a pendant to Qinghe, she could already hold her own against opponents on the Earth Ranking not too high—like Wang Daozhong... If someday Yuanyang reached Piaomiao’s heights...

That might be a distant tale.

For now, in the eyes of the Cui clan, Zhao Changhe had not only fulfilled his promise to reforge the divine sword but had even elevated it, cementing his demonic-godly origins—how could a mere second on the Earth Ranking of this world accomplish such a feat?

As the young couple left the secret realm together, they mowed down wheat stalks along the way—wherever they went, people knelt aside. Zhao Changhe felt that even entering the imperial palace hadn’t been this bizarre.

The only one who didn’t kneel was Cui Wenjing, seated in the ancestral hall. Seeing the couple emerge, he said irritably, “Shall I kneel too, to amuse the Prince of Zhao?”

Zhao Changhe whispered, “Keep it up; your persona’s been slipping lately.”

Cui Wenjing’s face was expressionless: “Actually, by clan rules, I should abdicate now, and Yuanyang should be the clan head.”

Cui Yuanyang: “Ah?”

Cui Wenjing nodded: “Since you’ve said so, I’ll temporarily keep the clan head position for now, and give it to you later.”

Cui Yuanyang: “Ah?”

Cui Wenjing turned serious and asked, “You... do you feel anything wrong?”

Cui Yuanyang hesitated, then shook her head.

Cui Wenjing looked at Zhao Changhe, who also shook his head: “No issues for now. I’ll keep a closer watch later.”

Cui Wenjing sighed: “I don’t trust this girl, but if you say so, it’s fine.”

Zhao Changhe said, “The earth fire in your secret realm has a great origin—if I’m not mistaken, it belongs to the Annihilation Flame, capable of birthing manifested demons. But Qinghe suppressed it, and the fire was kept from erupting. Although similar flames have already burned outside, this place remains a source. If another catastrophe like annihilation arises in the future, this will be a key origin. Your ancestor was right to guard this place; it cannot be left unchecked. Even if the Huangyang lot got hold of it, it could spell disaster.”

Cui Wenjing frowned, pondering for a moment: “If Huangyang can use this fire, can we?”

“I suggest you write to the Vermilion Sovereign...”

“No need to hide it; that’s the Empress Dowager, isn’t it?”

Cui Yuanyang: “?”

Zhao Changhe: “...”

“I’ll write to the Empress Dowager for advice.” Cui Wenjing’s expression was calm. “Also, as a matter of routine, I need to consult the Empress Dowager about Yuanyang’s status. In this matter, should she be considered the Emperor’s parent, or a participant herself?”

Zhao Changhe looked at the sky; Cui Yuanyang stared at the ground.

“Mother and daughter serving the same man, master and disciple sharing one husband, or the Empress Dowager and the Emperor—such absurd harem affairs have never been seen since ancient times. If this dynasty had an honest historian, it would be infamous from its very inception.” Cui Wenjing’s face was impassive. “We were quite amused watching the spectacle, but now that our own daughter is jumping into this muddy water, we can’t laugh anymore.”

Zhao Changhe coughed: “Change the subject?”

“Change what?” Cui Wenjing said. “The Wang and Li clans are probably already writing pamphlets; they might have spread across the land by now. What can you do?”

Zhao Changhe’s face was blank: “No worries; their reach is poor. I have a way.”

This time, Cui Wenjing was genuinely curious: “What way? Burning books and burying scholars?”

“I have someone who writes very well, loved by everyone in the land. I’ll have her write a good novel; once it spreads widely, people will only know the story. I can whitewash it as much as I want.”

Blind: “Get lost. If I write, it’ll be the unvarnished truth.”

Zhao Changhe: “...”

Cui Wenjing suddenly changed the subject: “I didn’t expect you to forge the sword so quickly... The memorial to the court was just sent, including your letter to His Majesty; Yuan Yong should only be arriving in the capital now. Are you waiting for His Majesty’s reply, or doing something on your own?”

Zhao Changhe turned to look at the sky outside—it was dusk. Not that fast, actually; it seemed over a day had passed.

“I still need to wait for Chichi’s reply. I plan to attack the Wang clan and need some coordination from the capital.”

“Then tonight...”

As he spoke, they both paused.

Cui Yuanyang’s pretty face was visibly flushed; she bit her lower lip and said nothing.

So, though Cui Wenjing had changed the subject, he hadn’t really changed it at all.

Where would Zhao Changhe stay tonight? If he lodged here, given the current situation, even if they arranged a guest room, they’d have to arrange service. Who would serve?

No need to arrange it—he’d already been in her boudoir for so long in front of everyone; others assumed everything was done. Many probably thought it had all been done two years ago.

He could just swagger into her boudoir and stay; who dared say no?

Cui Wenjing’s face was expressionless: “Time is tight. No grand ceremony—how about a simple small wedding? That kneeling earlier was me throwing my old face into lifting your sedan chair. Don’t act like a conqueror openly sleeping with my daughter, even if this black-hearted cotton herself wants it.”

In essence, all that talk about harem scandals was Cui Wenjing helping his daughter in palace intrigue—meaning, cover up those others and don’t put them on the table; only my daughter can be on the table. Though he knew it was self-deception and useless, as a father, he could only do this much.

Zhao Changhe turned to look at Cui Yuanyang. Her face was crimson as she turned away, whispering, “If you don’t want it now, and you become someone else in the future, don’t regret it.”

Zhao Changhe took a deep breath: “I want it.”

...

The so-called simple wedding was indeed simple.

Compared to the tedious rituals of traditional noble clans, it cut out ninety-nine percent of the procedures, simpler than a modern wedding with a host rambling on stage. Even the elder brother Cui Yuanyong was still on his way to the capital as an envoy and didn’t attend. Only a few clan elders from the Cui family came; Second Master Cui Wenwei was in prison, reportedly whipped daily.

Cui Wenjing and his wife sat high in the hall; a master of ceremonies chanted, and the couple bowed to each other once or twice. There were only eight or nine tables in total, less than a rustic village banquet.

But within the simplicity lay extremely meticulous preparation. It showed what Cui Wenjing had been busy with during the day or so he claimed to be guarding—the bride and groom both had perfectly fitted wedding robes, made secretly who knows when. Most absurdly, on the groom’s elder side sat Sun Jiaoxi, stroking his beard with a kindly expression.

Zhao Changhe’s eyes nearly popped out at Sun Jiaoxi.

In this world, if there was anyone who could be considered Zhao Changhe’s elder, it was truly only Sun Jiaoxi. Probably only a clan like the Cui family would rack their brains to arrange such things, and it was convenient—the Blood God Sect had been supporting Puyang and hadn’t returned after the battle.

Thus, this was a completely legitimate wedding with both sides’ elders present. Even if Xia Chichi sent twelve golden edicts shouting “Wait,” it would be too late...

“First bow to heaven and earth~”

As the master of ceremonies chanted, red candles flickered. Zhao Changhe, holding Cui Yuanyang with her red veil, knelt to heaven and earth with a belly full of strange emotions.

Blind stood before them, arms crossed.

Zhao Changhe: “?”

Blind smiled: “I’m not pretending anymore. Tell me, am I not heaven and earth?”

“You damn...”

“If you dare, disrupt the wedding and refuse to kneel.” Blind smiled. “I’ve been waiting for this moment a long time.”

Zhao Changhe took a deep breath, helplessly bowed, leaving only a harsh word for Blind: “You wait. One day, I’ll make you kneel back, and you’ll kneel however I say!”

“Second bow to parents and elders~”

Watching Cui Wenjing's face, which bore an expression of solemn benevolence but was actually itching to laugh, Zhao Changhe held back his second gulp of bitter bile, unsure how to spit it out.

When you knelt before me in public the day before yesterday, had you already calculated the return on this moment?

“The mutual bow of husband and wife~”

Looking at Cui Yuanyang before him, veiled in red, Zhao Changhe could almost see beneath the veil her cheeks redder than apples, and her eyes as tender as water.

Whether it was the blind man or Old Cui's bitter bile, at this moment it was utterly forgotten to the clouds beyond the ninth heaven.

No matter the family's turmoil, no matter the world's situation, he had mixed many things into this affair, but the girl before him had always been the purest in her feelings, completely untouched by external matters.

In her pure eyes, there was only the man who had taken her hand that year and traveled with her through the perilous jianghu.