Fine rain pattered incessantly throughout the night. The entire Yuehua Pavilion was filled with a faint, refreshing fragrance. Raindrops on the branches slid along the bark, tracing beautiful arcs in the air before splashing onto the ground with tiny, rhythmic sounds.
Cultivators, possessed of keen hearing, could capture every minute sound within the pavilion. This pitter-patter naturally reached their ears, repeating over and over like a crisp, pleasant little tune that cleared the mind.
The Master of Yuehua Pavilion usually favored elegant, muted colors, yet today the pavilion was as vibrant as a ball of fire. Lanterns of all sizes hung from the beams, and the windows were covered in red “Double Happiness” paper cuts.
“Where is the Young Mistress? Is she still resting in her room?” a small servant asked. “Is she awake? If she doesn’t wake up soon, the auspicious hour will pass.”
A maid beside him replied crisply, “Not yet. Sigh, the Young Mistress is truly unfortunate. On such a grand day, how did she manage to bump her head so badly?”
The servant put a finger to his lips, hushing her. He scanned the surroundings warily and, ensuring no one was near, whispered, “I heard she didn’t want this marriage at all. They say she might have hit her head on purpose, trying to kill herself.”
The maid’s eyes widened in shock. “How could that be? He’s a disciple of the Linxian Sect!”
The servant rolled his eyes. “So what? The Young Mistress was only just brought home by the Pavilion Master, and a few days later she’s being married off. How could she be happy? Besides, I heard from others that her cultivation isn’t low. She practices some kind of… Heartless Sword. She probably looks down on the Linxian Sect and even if the sect is powerful, he’s just an outer disciple. She must feel resentful.”
“Sigh, after all, Yuehua Pavilion is…” The maid didn’t finish her sentence, only adding, “The Young Mistress is a person of bitter fate.”
Yet, no matter how bitter the fate, she was still a cultivator with a long lifespan to contend with the heavens. People like them, who struggled even to reach the Qi Refining stage, were the ones truly suffering.
“Hurry and get the medicine into her,” the servant said. “If she doesn’t wake up, the Pavilion Master will come personally.”
The maid nodded. Just as she pushed open the door, she saw a woman dressed in fire red robes sitting quietly at the table. Her hair was like ink, her brows like distant mountains, and a crimson cinnabar mole sat between them. Her skin was so fair it seemed translucent. Even in the cultivation world, where beauties were plenty, this face was enough to make one lose their soul.
The maid froze on the spot. Her hand trembled, and the bowl of medicinal soup slipped, plummeting toward the floor.
As the bowl was about to shatter, a sudden gust of wind swept in from outside. It vaguely condensed into the shape of a sharp blade, propping the bowl up in mid-air.
Simultaneously, Jiang Xiechen tapped her fingers lightly on the tabletop twice.
The maid snapped out of her daze and said gratefully, “Thank you, Young Mistress! Thank you!”
If that medicine had spilled, her life would have been forfeit.
She had never seen Jiang Xiechen’s face before, having only sketched a mental image of a cold, aloof cultivator from the gossip of others. But no matter how she imagined it, the reality was far more shocking.
Worried if the Young Mistress had overheard their conversation outside, the maid said nervously, “Young Mistress, when did you wake up? You didn’t even call for us.”
Jiang Xiechen pressed her lips thin and did not reply.
The maid pushed the soup forward. “You might feel resentful, but you must take care of your body. As long as you are healthy, everything can be resolved. Besides, the Linxian Sect is the number one sect, you…”
As she reached for the comb nearby, she suddenly saw a sword resting on top of the red bridal veil.
The hilt was even more vivid than the veil, a dark, blood-stained red that radiated an ancient, gloomy aura. Though the sword remained in its sheath, it made one’s skin prickle with unease. The glint from the blade felt as though it could pierce one’s eyes.
Though not a high-level cultivator, she was still a servant of Yuehua Pavilion. She knew that for a sword cultivator, the sword reflected the master’s intent. She quickly shut her mouth, picked up the comb, and stole a glance at Jiang Xiechen’s profile.
She was beautiful, but her personality was…
Jiang Xiechen’s eyes flicked to the side, and the maid dared not speak another word.
In truth, Jiang Xiechen had agreed to this marriage.
The Master of Yuehua Pavilion was her father, they shared a bloodline connection. Jiang Xiechen practiced the Heartless Sword. Her master had died early, leaving behind only a sword and a pile of secret manuals. She knew that to progress in the Way of the Heartless Sword, she had to sever her worldly ties, which was why she had sought out her father in the first place.
As for the suicide attempt, that was pure nonsense.
She had simply been walking when her head felt heavy, and she fell into a dream.
In the dream, she saw a book detailing her entire life.
She was merely a “vile female supporting character” in that book. Her experiences weren’t described in detail, only that she was jealous, paranoid, and murderous, a foil meant to steal the protagonist’s opportunities, only to end up losing both her wealth and her life.
The male protagonist, fearing her comeback and knowing the power of her beauty, not only destroyed her cultivation but specifically ordered her face to be flayed off to prevent her from using her looks to climb back to power.
Jiang Xiechen’s only thought after seeing this was Absurd. Completely absurd.
Cultivators lived to defy heaven. She hadn’t violated her Dao, how could she be labeled a “vile character”?
Furthermore, treasures are unowned items, whoever grabs them owns them. How could they belong solely to the “protagonist”?
Moreover, based on the book’s contents, she only killed people, while the protagonist caused people to die in agony, clearly the methods of a truly wicked demonic cultivator. Yet in the book, he was hailed as the righteous hero.
The book also mentioned that before the marriage, the protagonist was entangled with a female disciple in his sect. They were intimate and had even practiced dual cultivation after becoming emotional during a secret realm trial. Unfortunately, as an outer disciple of the Linxian Sect, he lacked the status to marry her. He struck a deal with the girl, he would give the treasures they found in the trial to the Master of Yuehua Pavilion to secure the marriage. They agreed that once his cultivation rose, he would discard the Young Mistress of Yuehua Pavilion and return to marry his true love.
To this, Jiang Xiechen gave a cold, mocking sneer.
“Young Mistress.” The maid lowered her head. She didn’t have the courage to place the veil over Jiang Xiechen’s head, so she held it up high in both hands. “The hour has arrived.”
Jiang Xiechen had no interest in bullying a servant.
She leisurely picked up the veil, but instead of putting it on her head, she held it in her hand. With the other, she picked up the sword lying beside it.
The maid gasped in terror. “Young Mistress, what… what are you doing with a sword…?”
By the time she tried to give chase, it was too late.
The maid stamped her foot and shouted, “Someone! The Young Mistress is heading to the front hall with her sword! Quickly, call the Pavilion Master!”
Jiang Xiechen’s sword was her lifebound weapon, shifting according to her will. She wasn’t so foolish as to charge in swinging. She paused briefly at the entrance of the front hall, looking silently at the blade. With a flash of cold light, the sword vanished from her hand without a trace.
Inside, the Master of Yuehua Pavilion sat with the groom, Xiao Hongyu. They were laughing about something when Xiao Hongyu pulled a jade bottle from his robes and pushed it toward the Pavilion Master. He said respectfully, “I have brought the item you required.”
the Pavilion Master’s youngest son had fallen ill and needed a specific rare medicine. Despite the pavilion’s wealth, they couldn’t find it. Then, Xiao Hongyu had appeared, seeking to marry the newly returned daughter. This medicine was part of the dowry.
Yuehua Pavilion’s influence was not what it once was. The Pavilion Master was shrewd, he saw that Xiao Hongyu was a “dragon among men.” Since Jiang Xiechen wanted to settle her bloodline debt, he had agreed.
As for what happened after she married Xiao Hongyu?
They would simply go their separate ways.
Her sudden, aggressive entrance startled the two men at the high table.
The Pavilion Master frowned and slammed the table. “Jiang Xiechen! What are you doing? Do you not know how to knock? How rude! Can’t you see we are discussing business?”
Jiang Xiechen only asked, “Do you know Yu Yueming?”
The Pavilion Master’s expression flickered, but he reacted quickly, suppressing his unease. “Who is that?”
Xiao Hongyu wasn’t as seasoned. Hearing the Pavilion Master’s voice, he managed to steady his nerves and said, “I’ve heard of her. She’s also a disciple of our Linxian Sect. Why? Does Miss Jiang know her?”
From their reactions, Jiang Xiechen immediately understood the truth.
The Pavilion Master likely knew about the situation all along but kept it from her, fearing she wouldn’t agree.
Jiang Xiechen was willing to marry any random man to settle her debts, but even putting aside Xiao Hongyu’s “protagonist” behavior, the mere deception made her feel disgusted.
“I know her,” Jiang Xiechen said ominously. “I heard she is your ‘confidante’?”
The Pavilion Master scolded, “Where did you hear such rumors?”
Xiao Hongyu also laughed, explaining, “Junior Sister Yu and I are merely fellow disciples. Furthermore, I have no ‘confidante.’ Please do not say such things, Miss Jiang, lest you tarnish Junior Sister Yu’s reputation.”
To be fair, Xiao Hongyu lived up to the role of a protagonist. He was handsome, with sharp brows, eyes like black ink, and a complexion like white jade. His every movement exuded a certain suave charm, no wonder he had stolen the hearts of so many female cultivators.
Xiao Hongyu continued, “Who told you such lies? Please, Miss Jiang, calm yourself. Let us sit and talk slowly.”
The Pavilion Master added, “Exactly! Look at yourself. Can’t we discuss things properly? You shouldn’t just barge in like this.”
He continued, “I know you’re upset hearing such things, but you two are to spend a lifetime together. You can’t let idle gossip lead to suspicion, can you?”
The two of them played “good cop, bad cop” perfectly. Anyone else might have been confused enough to sit down.
But who was Jiang Xiechen?
Her path was the Heartless Dao. Her sword was the Heartless Sword. Her primary philosophy was to act exactly as she pleased.
Jiang Xiechen looked up, an eyebrow arched, and she smiled. “Sit? I think not.”
The moment the words left her lips, the sword hidden behind her back suddenly unsheathed. It erupted with a brilliant, freezing light, like the snow on Mount Kun, carrying a relentless, piercing intent as it lunged straight for Xiao Hongyu’s heart.