Chapter 1: The Grand Wedding

Crimson lips lightly bitten with rouge, gossamer skirts dancing in the wind. On the day the Ye Capital Female Sovereign’s rites were complete, the Three Realms joined in celebration at Supreme Splendor Palace.

It was the grandest occasion of her past life or this one, and Lu Shiyuan couldn’t help feeling a touch nervous.

After today, she would be the Sovereign Consort of the Ye Capital Female Sovereign.

Such incredible fortune was like a gold mine falling from the heavens—and this massive lode had landed right on her head. It all felt too unreal, like something out of a dream.

To the strains of the ritual music, ancient and majestic bell tolls echoed from the Bell Tower in Yedu’s Imperial City, proclaiming the supreme imperial authority of the Lord of Ye Capital.

Lu Shiyuan proceeded slowly, one measured step at a time, along the red carpet that stretched down from the high platform. Petals conjured by spells filled the sky, drifting and swirling before dissolving into sparkling motes that scattered on the breeze.

From beside her came the clear, crisp tinkling of bells—that was the Gold Bell on Shang Si’s wrist.

This woman truly adored that Gold Bell; she hadn’t even removed it for the occasion, Lu Shiyuan mused.

But in that moment of distraction, a clear, pleasant voice chimed in her mind: “Don’t be nervous. Look straight ahead.”

Shang Si had sensed her subtle shift in mood and was trying to guide and soothe her.

Lu Shiyuan paused, glancing sideways—only to find that Shang Si’s gaze hadn’t wavered in the slightest.

She gave a solemn “Mm,” steeling herself to match Shang Si’s rhythm as they ascended the Heaven Worship Platform, step by resolute step.

Eighty-one steps, symbolizing the supreme authority of the Ye Lord.

They presented memorials to Heaven above and announced their union to the ancestors below.

The pair stood like a match made in heaven, robes of joyous crimson flapping in the wind, with the Three Realms themselves as witness.

As the ancient bells tolled once more, the ritual official’s voice rang out high above Yedu, shrill and soaring: “Bow—”

~~~

Midnight in Supreme Splendor Palace.

Lu Shiyuan carefully removed the Phoenix Crown from her head and set it gently on the table, having already shed the layers of ceremonial robes.

Now that she was alone, she shook her head with a sigh of relief and massaged her aching neck.

The windows stood half-open, candle flames flickering in the draft. The room was deathly quiet save for the occasional whisper of wind, but Lu Shiyuan paid it no mind.

These were Shang Si’s private quarters, after all—bound to be protected by wards.

Moments later, the door eased open from the outside.

It wasn’t Shang Si, but a familiar face: Liuzhu, who carefully set a tray bearing a full set of wine vessels on the table. “The Female Lord sent me to say she’s temporarily detained in the front hall,” she said respectfully. “Please wait just a moment, Sovereign Consort.”

“It’s fine,” Lu Shiyuan replied. She didn’t particularly care where Shang Si had gone, but…

“Liuzhu, just call me Miss Lu.” She turned from the vanity, her clear eyes meeting Liuzhu’s. The candlelight made the Gold Forehead Ornament on her brow gleam brilliantly, her beauty utterly captivating.

Liuzhu had attended her from the very first day she’d arrived in Yedu, and Lu Shiyuan still preferred being called “Miss Lu.” The title “Sovereign Consort” felt awkward no matter how she heard it.

But Liuzhu only lowered her eyes demurely. “This servant dares not.”

Having delivered her message, Liuzhu bowed and withdrew, leaving Lu Shiyuan alone once more.

With nothing better to do while waiting for Shang Si, she rummaged through the entire vanity. At last, she picked up a sheet of rouge paper and lightly pressed it to her lips before the bronze mirror. The reflection showed her lips blooming an even deeper, more alluring red.

Lu Shiyuan was the sort of woman whose beauty turned heads wherever she went. Once, she had been the proud snow lotus cresting the sect’s frozen peaks; now, she was the lavish, resplendent bloom adorning Yedu’s Imperial City. It was all a matter of whim.

Yet as she gazed at that stunning face in the mirror, bewilderment flickered in her eyes once again.

It had been two years since she’d crossed into this world.

Upon her arrival, Lu Shiyuan had been a former prodigy of her sect, her cultivation utterly crippled. Fortunately, her sect brothers had looked after her, shielding her from bullies.

She had drifted through more than a year of that aimless, wastrel existence, growing almost accustomed to it—until three months ago, when she was suddenly abducted from the sect and brought to Yedu.

Yedu was a place of mystery and awe, standing apart from the Three Realms of humans, demons, and devils. It meddled in none of their conflicts. Ever since the Netherworld Prefecture had vanished thousands of years ago, the souls of the dead from across the realms had fallen under the unified management of Yedu’s Lord. They controlled life and death, cleansed vengeful spirits, and suppressed ghosts and monsters. Yedu was the nexus of the heaviest resentment in the Three Realms—a place teeming with shady characters, yet unfathomably profound.

Taming millions of grudge-bearing ghosts and spirits required real power; even the most arrogant devils tread carefully around Yedu’s people.

No one knew why Yedu, which had always ignored worldly affairs, had acted so abruptly this time.

Lu Shiyuan remembered the day the Ghost General of Yedu arrived at the sect gates, demanding her by name. The visitor was a woman who had briefly clashed with the sect master. Though he had initially stood firm and refused to yield, he handed her over after just a few exchanges, saying bitterly, “These guests mean trouble.”

These guests mean trouble.

At least, when Lu Shiyuan was first thrown into the Yedu dungeon, she had deeply agreed with the sect master’s words.

But as events unfolded, they began to overturn her assumptions.

Lu Shiyuan had transformed overnight from a prisoner to an honored guest of Yedu. The reason Yedu had “invited” a mere disciple from an immortal sect like her was that, half a year earlier, when she and her junior brother had sneaked down the mountain and gotten separated, she had stepped forward to rescue a young girl from a demon.

Of course, with her half-crippled cultivation, forcing herself to intervene had triggered a severe backlash. She had passed out soon after and awoke back at the sect.

As for the girl she had saved, no one knew her identity—which was why, half a year later, the Ghost General of Yedu had come personally to the sect gates to claim her.

Only then did Lu Shiyuan learn that the girl she had saved was the Young Lord of Yedu.

Her thoughts lingered there when suddenly, with a creak, the door was pushed open.

Lu Shiyuan reined in her wandering mind and glanced over.

Shang Si had changed out of the heavy robes worn for the heavenly sacrifice. She now wore only a bright red gossamer skirt, yet it could not conceal her innate nobility. Her usually aloof face was flushed like peach blossom, likely from the few cups of wine she had drunk outside, though her eyes remained clear and bright.

“You’ve kept me waiting, Miss Lu.” The woman’s voice was clear and measured, like pearls dropping onto a jade plate. The subtle upturn at the corners of her eyes brimmed with an intoxicating smile. “Yedu hasn’t held a wedding in ages. Everyone’s just too thrilled.”

Lu Shiyuan traced Shang Si’s exquisite features with her gaze, searching for any hint of pretense, but found none. The woman seemed truly joyful, as if it were her own wedding day.

She changed the subject. “My senior brothers…”

“I’ve already had them settled comfortably. But please, miss, honor our agreement—don’t breathe a word of our deal to anyone else.” Shang Si turned to her, her beautiful ink-black eyes reflecting the candle flames with a bewitching allure.

Lu Shiyuan lowered her gaze. “I understand.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. It seemed there was nothing left for them to say.

After a long moment, Lu Shiyuan forced herself to speak again. “Shang Si, can you really help me rebuild my spiritual root and restore my former cultivation?” Her eyes flickered uncertainly, her red lips pressed together in a vulnerable pout—enough to stir pity in anyone’s heart.

For a fleeting instant, this version of Lu Shiyuan made Shang Si pause, as if stirring some distant memory.

Then, with a soft chuckle, she replied, “Yes.”

“This stroke of fortune is Yedu’s gift to you, in gratitude for your bravery in saving the Young Lord of Yedu.”

“But my uncles and senior uncles took me to every major sect, and they all said it was hopeless.” Lu Shiyuan’s voice grew softer until it trailed off.

She wasn’t even sure what she wanted Shang Si to prove. She was like a drowning woman clutching desperately at a straw.

Nearly two years wasn’t a long time, but it had been enough for Lu Shiyuan to grasp the truth of this world: strength ruled all.

Once, she had been the unrivaled spiritual root prodigy of the immortal sects. But decades ago, an incident in a secret realm had left her spiritual root and cultivation crippled. Though she clung to her lingering power to preserve her life and beauty, she could never reclaim her former glory. Everywhere she went, eyes followed her with pity or scorn.

Who would choose to live as a cripple, beholden to others, if they could cultivate freely?

“You mean those old fogeys in the Mortal Realm?”

“They don’t know the first thing about it.” Shang Si waved the notion away airily. Her lovely phoenix eyes still curved in a smile, but a keen edge glinted beneath, her tone languid. “How could a pack of geezers compare to Yedu’s millions of years of heritage?”

“Are they even worthy?” Those few light words dripped with supreme arrogance.

Overlooking the Three Realms, scorning all others—that was Yedu.

It made perfect sense, and no sense at all, yet it inexplicably soothed Lu Shiyuan’s churning heart. Someone like Shang Si had no reason to deceive her. If it could be done, it would be. The Lord of Yedu’s word was absolute.

With that realization, Lu Shiyuan’s thoughts shifted to another matter.

“Then you should start changing how you address me.” The red candles emblazoned with double happiness characters had burned more than halfway down when she spoke up.

Shang Si glanced at her. “Hm?”

Lu Shiyuan lowered her eyes and smoothed the wedding gown draped over her body. “If the Female Lord wants to turn their scheme against them, she needs to get used to acting like intimate lovers with me in public.”

“For instance… that ‘Miss Lu’ business.”

“Shiyuan,” Shang Si said with a smile, enunciating each word clearly as the crisp chime of the bell on her left hand rang out. She interrupted Lu Shiyuan mid-sentence, leaning in close and resting both hands on her shoulders. “Is that right? I’ve heard your senior brother call you that too.”

As her words trailed off, beneath the flickering candlelight, a suspicious flush crept over Lu Shiyuan’s fair ears.

The delicate golden earrings swayed gently, while stray strands of hair drifted with the rhythm of her breathing. She struggled to steady herself, trying to imagine the woman before her as her beloved.

Lu Shiyuan gave a soft hum in response.

She lifted her gaze slightly and suddenly caught sight of the two of them in the dressing table mirror—their postures intimate, as if cuddling affectionately together.

It was then that Shang Si’s next words followed. “Shiyuan, have you heard of the Ye Capital Untransmitted Dual Cultivation Secret Art?”