0020. The Saintess Deep Within the Wedding
That night, in Nangong Xun’s study.
Standing before the desk, however, was Nangong Mo. A faint smile lingered on his lips, clearly lacking the deference of the eldest young master. Nangong Xun did not keep him waiting long; like many heads of household, the authority of the firstborn son was seldom displayed before the second.
He spoke mildly, “Why did that girl Luoxue suddenly agree to marry Zheng Fanren?”
Only now did Nangong Mo’s smile fade. Composed, he replied, “I believe it has something to do with calligraphy, but I’m not certain whether Miss Luoxue is truly that passionate about it.”
Nangong Xun nodded, fell silent for a moment, then continued, “Since she’s agreed, if the Saintess reacts during the wedding, invite Zheng Fanren to be our family’s top-ranked honored guest.”
Nangong Mo looked surprised. “Top-ranked?”
Nangong Xun shot him a glare, offering no further explanation. “Seven days from now, the examination at Taixuan Academy will have ended. Is Luoxue so confident in him?”
Without waiting for a reply, he went on, “Or will she break off the engagement if Zheng Fanren fails to enter Taixuan Academy?”
Nangong Mo’s mouth parted slightly, astonished. Then he forced a playful tone, “Goodness, how did I overlook the timing?”
Clearly knowing his temperament, Nangong Xun raised his voice. “Go!”
He dismissed Nangong Mo, sending him to confirm the matter himself.
…
At the northern edge of the Han Empire, the land and towering mountains lay buried beneath endless snow. As far as the eye could see, the world was a vast expanse of white.
The mountains were sacred, rising abruptly from the edge of the snowy plains and piercing the sky. Amid their perilous heights, a courtyard stood in silence—the Sacred Academy, unchanging for millennia.
Within the mountains lay the Snow Kingdom, whose people for centuries dared not set foot beyond the Sacred Academy’s boundary. To the south was the Han Empire; its armies, generation after generation, would never trespass on sacred ground.
Such was the awe the Sacred Academy inspired—known to all, though its true visage was veiled.
To the west of the Sacred Academy sat a small courtyard, a few snow-covered houses unchanged for a thousand years. Within, a black stone stood, radiating an endless flow of profound energy, sustaining nameless flowers that bloomed all year, untouched by the seasons.
Yet most of this energy was absorbed by the girl dwelling there.
She stood beneath climbing vines, a snow eagle landing gracefully at her heel. Her beauty eclipsed the blossoms around her. Soon, the slip of paper tied to the snow eagle’s leg was unfurled in Bai Xi’s hand.
Seeing her lapse into contemplation, the clever attendant behind her asked, “Miss, do you have any instructions?”
The girl nodded, then said indifferently, “Zheng Fanren is getting married.”
The attendant gasped softly. “The young master you mentioned? How can he be getting married?”
The girl seemed to recall some memory and smiled, “What young master? He’s merely a chatterbox! Why shouldn’t he marry?”
The attendant smiled faintly, lowering her gaze in silence.
More solemnly, the girl ordered, “Send someone to invigilate at Taixuan Academy. Act according to the situation.”
The attendant bowed respectfully. “Yes, miss.”
…
The urgent clatter of hooves rang out; on the snowy horizon, several black dots appeared, a group racing southward at great speed.
To the south, in Luocheng, the air was already growing hot. In the Hall of Clouds at Luoxue Garden, Zheng Fanren held the notice for the Taixuan Academy examination—just three days away.
He felt a touch of nervousness. Years ago, his exam results had done little but embarrass his parents.
He soon remembered the wedding, six days hence, and sighed inwardly: “To achieve academic glory and marry the woman I love—such blissful moments are not meant for me.”
Watching the servants busily arranging the place, he imagined the chaos of the wedding day. A hint of gloom crept in, for Miss Luoxue was truly beautiful and kind-hearted.
The only thing that unsettled him was the so-called nobility one had to earn by solving difficult problems.
When it came to matters between men and women, he cherished freedom—absolute freedom.
Across the table, she quietly added rice to his bowl. The gesture recalled him to the present, and he smiled gently. “Thank you.”
Luoxue frowned. “Eat more!”
Her domineering tenderness made Zheng Fanren uneasy; the unease came from his own indifference, which only proved the turmoil in his heart. He felt there were words he should say.
“What if the wedding doesn’t go smoothly?”
Luoxue replied with authority, “Nervous before the wedding? If I’m not nervous, why should you be?”
Her queenly demeanor reassured him somewhat. Surely, she was stronger than most women.
He only nodded in response.
Luoxue seemed to sense something and continued, “In Luocheng, only Taixuan Academy could prevent our wedding.”
Zheng Fanren was startled. Was she truly so formidable?
He answered, “Perhaps someone from Taixuan Academy really will try to stop it.”
Luoxue exclaimed, “Eat! So many words for nothing!”
Zheng Fanren ate seriously; soon, not a grain of rice was left in his bowl.
Luoxue appeared satisfied and strode off toward the west garden. Zheng Fanren hurried after her. In his mind, with beauty at hand, it was only right to accompany her more.
As they walked by the lake, Zheng Fanren noticed Luoxue’s steps faltering. Before he could warn her, she slipped.
In a flash, he reached out from behind, steadying her by the left arm. Luoxue balanced on her right foot and quickly regained her composure.
She turned and laughed heartily, “Thank you, Young Master Zheng, ha ha.”
Seeing Zheng Fanren’s exasperation—clearly aware of her little trick—she couldn’t help but blush, though she said solemnly, “That’s enough.”
By "enough," she did not mean she needed no help, but that his concern was enough.
Zheng Fanren understood, but said nothing. Luoxue, already several steps ahead, looked back and teased, “Don’t be so serious—seriousness is vexing. No wonder your name sounds like ‘Troublesome’!”
…
The next day dawned bright and warm, the rhythm of summer already begun.
The Zhou family residence, however, was especially quiet.
The mansion seemed sealed within the scroll of history: ancient gates, ancient trees, an aged steward.
Now, the steward stood before Master Zhou Biwei, awaiting his orders.
“How much longer until the Soul-Hunting Seal is complete?” Zhou Biwei asked sternly.
“Master, rest assured—it will be ready before the wedding,” replied the steward, bowing low.
Zhou Biwei’s expression remained severe, even cold. “It must only be used if the Saintess herself intervenes to stop the wedding. The Soul-Hunting Seal is our family’s greatest treasure!”
Only then did he glance at the steward and add, “Failure is not an option. The eldest young master will handle it.”
The steward hesitated before replying, “The eldest young master and Zheng Fanren have some enmity. If he acts, won’t it arouse suspicion?”
Zhou Biwei’s eyes snapped open. The steward immediately stepped back three paces, trembling, and said, “Yes, I will obey your orders.”
With a slight wave of his right hand, Zhou Biwei dismissed him. The old steward relaxed inwardly and withdrew quietly.