She is courteous.

Zheng Fanren was not adept at toasting nor comfortable with so many eyes upon him. Yet he felt content, for this was a wedding without elders, free from burdensome rituals. The only elder, Aunt Xiao, bustled about the hall, likely to preside over the ceremony in due course.

The Snow Hall was filled with the finest youths and maidens of Luocheng; the usual guests of the Blossom Pavilion had been accommodated in the parlors of each lady, their expenses naturally added to Luo Xue's account. So as Zheng Fanren wandered among the tables, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Luo Xue.

Thankfully, the gifts from each family could offset much of the cost. The Nangong family had sent a hundred bolts of celestial silk, and more importantly, Zhou Zitian had brought a lavish present—a bottle of fifty-year-old snow wine, priceless in its rarity.

Yet Zheng Fanren still grumbled inwardly at their thriftiness, for all the gifts were products of their own households.

After a few cups, he began to relax, the heaviness in his heart easing at last.

Zhou Zitian was considering the opportune moment to mark Zheng Fanren with a Soul Hunt Seal; once imprinted, Zheng Fanren would be compelled to obey him. As for whether the Sacred Academy would interfere with the wedding, that was his father's concern, not his own.

Nangong Mo, however, was troubled, for his anticipation would bring embarrassment to Luo Xue. He hoped the Sacred Academy might act during the ceremony to clarify Zheng Fanren's relationship with the Saintess. He even regretted not rescuing the noble Saintess himself.

In fact, the Sacred Academy had shown an ambiguous stance; at the very least, they had aided Zheng Fanren’s admission to Tai Xuan Academy.

...

By now, Zheng Fanren had drunk considerably. Seeing his tipsy state, Nangong Mo took the lead and called out, “Aunt Xiao, let’s proceed with the ceremony!”

Now that Zheng Fanren was a new star of Tai Xuan Academy, many sought to befriend him. The young men and women cheered.

A wedding without many formalities was convenient; Aunt Xiao led out Luo Xue, veiled in red, from the Cloud Hall.

Zheng Fanren hurried to greet her, and soon the two walked side by side before the assembled guests.

Everyone rose from their tables, applause resounding.

Suddenly, a clear voice rang out: “Wait, wait, I have a gift for you.”

The voice came from the musicians’ corner, bright and joyful, captivating all.

The hall fell into stunned silence before the sound of a zither flowed forth. The melody spread like a tide, filling every corner. It was as if moonlight drifted in, dreamy and noble, as pure white summer snow bloomed one after another, suffusing the air with the fragrance of music.

Zheng Fanren recognized the tune instantly; he had heard it countless times in his previous life. His eyes grew moist.

As he listened in stillness, a moving voice began to sing:

You ask me how deep my love for you is
How much I truly care
My feelings are sincere
My love is true
The moon is the witness to my heart

You ask me how deep my love for you is
How much I truly care
My devotion unwavering
My love unchanging
The moon is the witness to my heart

A gentle word
Has already stirred my soul
A profound love
Makes me long for you to this day

You ask me how deep my love for you is
How much I truly care
Just think about it
Just look at it
The moon is the witness to my heart

From the moment the singing began, everyone was stunned, no other sound broke the silence. It was as if the song would never fade.

Perhaps it was the song’s summons, for the rock garden was now bathed in moonlight.

Even Zhou Zitian and Nangong Mo, versed in music ancient and modern, could not help but marvel at this celestial tune.

...

After a long while, a girl in white slowly emerged from the side room, drawing the crowd’s attention to the wondrous singer.

Her gown was a shimmering white, simple yet exquisite, radiating both grandeur and elegance, leaving all in awe.

Zheng Fanren was startled, thinking, “The dress I drew was a wedding gown—she actually wore it?”

Everyone stared, dumbfounded, as she walked toward the newlyweds. Beneath the veil, Luo Xue sensed something amiss.

Her heart leapt in alarm: “She’s not here to bless the union, she’s here to stop it!”

Nangong Mo was equally shocked, wondering, “Why would the Princess of Tai Xuan intervene in the wedding?”

She was gazing at Zheng Fanren with tender affection, and worse still, his tearful eyes betrayed his emotion.

Zheng Fanren knew why he was moved; this was the song he had performed for his wife in his past life’s wedding. He could not discern whether the Tai Xuan Princess was an actress or a performer, but whichever she was, the situation was bound to be misunderstood.

As expected, bewilderment and anger swept over the crowd.

Of course, there were those who delighted in the spectacle, eager for events to unfold according to their desires, seeking amusement to fill their emptiness.

At this moment, reality was unfolding like a story.

Zheng Fanren’s eyes were wet as he looked at the princess before him.

She gazed at him lovingly and spoke softly, “The celestial silk you gave me—I have made it into zither strings. Today is their first performance. Did you like it?”

Zheng Fanren had directed the whole play, but never expected the girl before him would so boldly cast herself in the drama, nor perform so passionately.

He nodded in reply; he did not lie, nor did he need to act, for the music was indeed beautiful.

But “Winter Plum” was dissatisfied. She suddenly appeared heartbroken, tears welling in her eyes.

She trembled slightly, choking out, “But the Heaven’s Sensation book I gave you—you lost it!”

Then, pitifully, she asked, “If I give it to you now, will you accept it?”

At her words, everyone understood her meaning—they had already exchanged tokens of affection long ago.

Zheng Fanren had given her celestial silk.

She had given him the Heaven’s Sensation book.

Nangong Mo wanted to intervene, but Zheng Fanren and Luo Xue’s wedding was itself a staged affair, meant to gauge the Saintess’s reaction.

He never expected the one to object would be the Princess of Tai Xuan, not someone from the Sacred Academy.

And because she was the Princess, he dared not interfere, for he would not risk offending the fiery old dean of Tai Xuan.

Luo Xue was unsure if she truly cared for Zheng Fanren; she had agreed to Nangong Mo’s scheme, hoping the Sacred Academy would object. If they did not, she would accept it as fate, and begin life with Zheng Fanren.

But now, she felt an inexplicable sadness. She did not know why, nor how to respond, and could only be grateful she was hidden beneath the red veil.

...

Nangong Mo stared at the book in the princess’s hand, shocked.

Rumor had it that Zheng Fanren’s book had been taken by the old dean of Tai Xuan—how could it now be in the princess’s possession? Did the dean’s actions serve no purpose?

He pondered, “The informant said the book drifted from Zheng Fanren’s hand, and judging by the voice of the person who took it, it should have been the dean of Tai Xuan.”

Yet he sensed something amiss, for the old man would never act so furtively.

At this thought, he fixed his gaze on the zither behind the princess. He could not see the strings, for they were made of celestial silk.

A vision flashed in his mind: celestial silk wrapped around the mystical Heaven’s Sensation book, then the princess pulled, and it floated away from Zheng Fanren.

The voice was easy to explain—no one knew the dean’s voice better than his daughter, the Princess of Tai Xuan.

Nangong Mo was clever; he could even picture the hole in the back wall of the Zheng family’s western estate, through which one could come and go freely.

He glared at Zheng Fanren in anger, thinking, “Damn you, Zheng Fanren!”

Then he saw Zheng Fanren gently nod.

That nod meant he accepted the princess’s token of affection!

The atmosphere grew tense.