Chapter 49: Marriage.

Time crawled through the lonely torment.
As faint light filtered through the window paper, Xie Qiyang’s nerves eased slightly.

Dawn had broken.
Her last “peaceful” day was over.

Soon, commotion stirred outside—not the eerie wind or knocks, but a deliberate, festive clamor.

Ye Zhuxian’s voice rang out first, still vibrant and spirited:

“The hour’s here, Ningshuang. Time to get ready…”

Several old women, their faces indistinct but movements brisk, swarmed in, pulling her to the polished bronze mirror without a word.

No modern wedding makeup here.
They combed her cascading silver hair with a comb dipped in a fragrant, otherworldly balm, styling it into an intricate, solemn updo, secured with jade pins glowing with moonlight.

The red veil fell again, sealing her vision in crimson.

Supported, she rose, her steps unsteady, the star-flecked satin shoes feeling surreal against the floor.

Outside, the morning air was chilly, heavy with palpable tension.
Countless gazes fell on her—scrutinizing, greedy, calculating, or simply spectating.

No one smiled; lips stayed sealed, silent.
No joyful wedding cheers, only a suffocating stillness.

No celebration—just the air of a sacrifice.

Guided, she sat in a palanquin—not carried by men, but woven from dark-golden vines pulsing with faint runes, hovering a foot off the ground.

As she settled in, a loud, aged voice commanded:

“Up!”

No bearers’ shouts, no hoofbeats.

The vine palanquin quivered, then shot forward like an arrow, silent and swift.
The speed was staggering, a dizzying weightlessness hitting her.
The veil pressed against her face, flapping in the wind.

Where are they taking me?

Through a sliver under the veil, she glimpsed the black ironstone village path whipping by, and in the distance, strange trees shimmering and a misty pond.

After what felt like moments—or just a few breaths—the palanquin halted abruptly, the inertia nearly throwing her forward, but cold vines held her fast.

Helped down, the air turned blisteringly hot and dry, thick with an ancient, sacred, scorching pressure.

This must be the Li Clan’s core—the ancestral hall for major ceremonies.

“The auspicious hour has arrived! The couple shall proceed!”
Old Man Chen’s voice boomed, solemn and soul-piercing, echoing in the searing space.

No bowing to heaven and earth, no honoring elders.

She was guided to stand beside another figure in a crimson wedding robe.

Through the veil, she saw only his vague outline and strikingly bright golden eyes.

Then, a colossal, soul-shuddering heavenly pressure descended.

The void twisted and tore before them.

A massive scroll, forged from blazing solar gold and frozen abyssal ice, materialized.

It unfurled, bearing no words—only countless sun, moon, star, and yin-yang fish patterns, formed from pure, ever-shifting laws.
A vast, majestic, unyielding aura washed over them.

The Heavenly Dao Contract Scroll!

“The couple shall seal the contract with blood and soul.”

An irresistible force guided Xie Qiyang’s right hand.
A sharp pain pricked her fingertip, and a drop of silver-moonlit blood, infused with Lunar Saint Body essence, was forced out, flying toward the scroll.

Beside her, a blazing, molten-gold drop of blood, radiating solar brilliance, shot from Li Tianxing’s finger.

Like fated opposites, the two drops traced arcane paths, merging into the spinning yin-yang fish at the scroll’s center.

Buzz—!

The scroll erupted in blinding light, gold and silver intertwining, clashing, then fusing perfectly.

The scorching hall was engulfed in sacred radiance.
Countless tiny law runes flowed from the scroll like living things, some burrowing into Li Tianxing’s body, others drilling into Xie Qiyang’s forehead.

“Ugh!”
She stifled a groan, feeling an indelible mark seared into her soul.

The contract’s terms were clear: Jiang Ningshuang, henceforth the wife of the man opposite, must fulfill the duties of a Dao companion, live harmoniously, engage in frequent dual cultivation, and not refuse a partner’s request without special reason.

The contract was sealed.
The frequent dual cultivation and no refusal clauses left her dumbfounded.

What kind of nonsense is this? If I fall out with Li Tianxing later and he demands dual cultivation, what do I do? Refuse and get struck by lightning?

The light faded, and the scroll split into two streams, vanishing into their foreheads.

“Ceremony complete! To the bridal chamber!”

With Old Man Chen’s final proclamation, the long-suppressed guests erupted in cheers.

Xie Qiyang felt like a traded item, guided again.

This time, she was led down a dim passage in the hall’s depths.
The stone walls were embedded with eternal golden-flame crystals, illuminating the path like daylight.

She sensed Li Tianxing beside her, silent as stone, his Solar Saint Body’s warm aura stark in the searing passage.

Finally, she was ushered into a festively decorated stone chamber.
Golden-flame crystals lined the walls, and a wide stone bed, draped in red brocade, sat at the center.

The air carried a strange, likely aphrodisiac scent, mixed with a domineering, yang-heavy aura that seemed tailored to her Lunar Saint Body, making her feel uncomfortably warm.

The door shut and locked silently behind her.

In the chamber, only she and Li Tianxing remained.