Chapter 49: Every Marriage Contract in the World Is a Declaration of War

From the Undying Forest to Phoenix Lake, Qiu Li walked along the road covered in fallen leaves, followed by two guards in dark armor and black robes.

At Phoenix Lake, the ice and fire had long dispersed. The calm waters, imbued with the unique desolation of autumn, reflected the imperial city, which had yet to begin repairs. In Qiu Li's eyes, it was an image of boundless bleakness.

Until yesterday, he had been the Undying Forest’s grand disciple, destined to inherit the ancient scrolls and assume the Warlord's authority.

But in just one day, everything had been turned upside down. The Warlord, whom he revered as a deity, had died without even a complete corpse, and he himself would soon become a prisoner.

How could he accept this?

Qiu Li walked on in silence, his head bowed. As more and more people passed by, he moved through them noiselessly, heading towards the palace along the long street that had once been stained with blood.

The sun climbed higher and higher, its light slowly sweeping over the high walls. Even from a distance, the imperial palace, though broken, still appeared majestic.

In the vast Southern State, the State of Zhao was merely a small kingdom nestled in a corner. Yet, despite its size, the presence of certain individuals caused it to emanate an unshakeable radiance.

That light was dazzling and repulsive.

“I hope you don’t deceive me…” His voice was too low to be heard, barely a whisper.

The two guards behind him remained impassive, simply leading him forward.

This single sentence would change the imperial city today, planting a powerful seed that, at some point, would unleash a tempest strong enough to overturn the world.

Yet, on this seemingly ordinary morning, it dissipated silently.

Only he knew.

The banquet had already begun. The palace, where the atmosphere had initially been somewhat subdued, was now bustling with activity.

The hall was brightly lit, and palace maids moved silently to and fro. The officials, having shed their initial nervousness, began to converse amidst the clinking of cups.

The banquet itself was far from extravagant. The silver plates and jade bowls that would ordinarily be used were replaced with ceramic ones. The fruit and vegetables in the bowls were common, not rare delicacies, and even the palace maids' attire was unremarkable.

Occasionally, they looked up and saw the young woman with skin fairer than snow, clad in dragon robes as dark as ink, and completely devoid of gold or silver ornaments. They suddenly understood that this was a certain signal.

It was a signal in stark contrast to the extravagance of Zhao Fu’s banquets.

It seemed that even after these affairs were settled, she had no intention of abdicating. The State of Zhao would usher in its first empress.

Despite her youth, this empress possessed an aura that stifled any thought of opposition.

Lu Jiajia did not eat much; she merely lifted her veil, drank a few cups of wine, and symbolically ate a few bites of food.

For cultivators of the Longevity Realm, their requirements for both food and sleep were significantly lower than those of ordinary people. Moreover, the truly exquisite taste lay in the celestial nectar condensed from otherworldly spiritual energy. Earthly food, no matter how elaborately prepared, was ultimately incomparable.

Ning Changjiu simply sat still, eating with his chopsticks as usual. He wasn't fond of alcohol, so he drank clear tea instead.

Ning Xiaoling, on the other hand, had eyes sparkling with delight. To the officials, these dishes might have been considered plain fare, but for her, who in the past had only managed to get scraps with Ning Qinshui, they were akin to delicacies. The young girl picked up a piece of meat with her chopsticks, put it into her mouth, and, recalling the events of the past few days, tears unexpectedly welled up in her eyes.

Ning Changjiu smiled, gently ruffled her head, and, with a light brush of his sleeve, wiped away her tears.

Ning Xiaoling huddled closer, her head bowed. She knew many eyes were curiously fixed on them, which made her feel somewhat flustered. Under such scrutiny, the food on the table no longer seemed as appetizing...

This bothered her a little. Although she was here to celebrate Princess Zhao Xiang'er's birthday, she really just wanted to enjoy a good meal...

During the banquet, Zhao Xiang'er handed a stack of papers to a guard, instructing him to distribute them. As time passed, the papers were passed around in order, falling into the hands of more and more people.

Murmurs of surprise and discussion occasionally broke out in the hall, separate from the tea and food.

The contents of the papers were written by Zhao Xiang'er the previous night. They essentially stated that the States of Jin and Rong, intending to destroy and partition Zhao, had sent assassins to infiltrate the State of Zhao. These assassins ambushed the empress and released the Great Ghoul, which had been sealed deep within the underground palace. All recent sudden deaths in the city were attributed to this Great Ghoul.

Furthermore, the Great Ghoul was intricately connected to the Demon Sparrow Blood Feather Monarch. They had come together, aiming to destroy the State of Zhao in one fell swoop. Fortunately, Zhao Xiang'er, in collaboration with Immortal Lu of the Sword Discourse Sect, successfully killed the Great Ghoul, while the Blood Feather Monarch escaped, severely wounded. All the assassins from Jin and Rong were annihilated, with no survivors. The siblings, Ning Changjiu and Ning Xiaoling, also played crucial roles in this imperial city turmoil.

Naturally, these accounts contained both truth and falsehood, but ordinary mortals, seeing through a fog, could hardly discern the difference. Moreover, at this moment, they had no right to question anything.

“Previously, Jin claimed they received a heavenly oracle to execute the empress. Now, it seems that was nothing but a long-planned deception, spreading false rumors to mislead the public! And so many people in our State of Zhao… actually believed it.” Someone clenched their fist and struck the table, indignantly.

Zhao Xiang'er calmly stated, “The one who descended upon Jin was merely an evil god. When the time is right, I will personally slay it.”

“Your Highness, is it truly accurate that all the assassins from Jin and Rong were annihilated? May we know who they were?” someone inquired.

To them, the Great Ghoul and Blood Feather Monarch seemed too ethereal. However, Jin’s assassins were renowned throughout the land, killing invisibly and terrifyingly. Many sudden deaths in Zhao in the past were rumored to be their doing.

This was one of the shadows Jin cast upon them, the most tangible threat they could perceive.

Zhao Xiang'er's voice was clear and cool as she slowly replied, “The bodies of over twenty individuals, led by the Ghost of Many Colors, including the Wild Goose Lake Swordsman, Infinite Sword, and Cicada Silk Ghost, will be displayed on the city walls after noon. Everyone will be able to see them then.”

“The Ghost of Many Colors?” someone gasped in shock. “Is that the living ghost who always wears colorful clothes and delights in brutally torturing people to death?”

The Ghost of Many Colors was notoriously vicious in Jin, and his origins were a popular topic in many Jianghu novels. Those he killed were tortured beyond recognition, their souls utterly devoured by the soul worms he kept.

For years, he had remained at the top of Jin’s assassin rankings, unchallenged.

It was unexpected that such a formidable villain had infiltrated Zhao yesterday. His Highness must have exerted considerable effort to kill him…

Fortunately, he was killed in the end…

Everyone's thoughts varied, but all secretly breathed a sigh of relief, becoming even more convinced and admiring of Zhao Xiang'er.

“Your Highness… what about… the Blood Feather Monarch?” someone cautiously inquired.

“Expelled from the imperial city,” Zhao Xiang'er replied.

“With so many experts from Jin and Rong dead, if they retaliate against Zhao…” another person began, then hesitated.

“They’ve bullied us right to our doorstep, and I’ve killed them all. Do you truly believe there’s still room for negotiation and peace?” Zhao Xiang'er retorted.

That person asked no more questions. Another stood up and said, “Then, from now on, we hope Your Highness will take control of the State of Zhao. Otherwise, with Jin and Rong eyeing us covetously, we incompetent officials cannot rest easy.”

Zhao Xiang'er smiled slightly at his self-deprecation and calmly said, “As I said before, I will not abandon Zhao… As for this throne, it is merely a formality. Let it be remade when external threats and internal troubles have dissolved.”

“And the Imperial Preceptor…”

“Since the Master is indisposed today, we won't disturb him. From now on, the Imperial Preceptor's Residence will remain the Imperial Preceptor's Residence.”

“Your Highness is benevolent.”

Such questions and answers continued at a steady pace. Zhao Xiang'er stood on the golden steps, her tone largely unvarying as she responded to questions. She patiently addressed even some of the more provocative remarks, showing no impatience. The birthday banquet's time flowed by in this continuous conversation.

Lu Jiajia kept her gaze fixed on the young woman who answered so calmly, her eyes flickering with admiration. It was a great pity that they had met too late, missing the chance to witness the legendary beauty of her mother.

Ning Changjiu had also stopped eating. He took a sip of wine, finding it a bit spicy, then smiled wryly and put down his cup, gazing at Zhao Xiang'er, lost in thought.

Ning Xiaoling also looked at her face, thinking how increasingly well-suited she was to her senior brother.

Gradually, the questions diminished until the hall fell silent, quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Zhao Xiang'er smiled faintly, her gaze suddenly falling upon Ning Changjiu. Their eyes met in the air, and Ning Changjiu felt a slight jolt, suddenly filled with an ominous premonition.

Indeed, his premonition soon came true.

Zhao Xiang'er began, “Since none of you have any more questions, there’s something I wish to announce.”

Ning Xiaoling, of course, also noticed where her gaze was directed. Her heart tightened, vaguely guessing what was coming, feeling both fear and anticipation.

Upon hearing this and connecting it with her gaze, everyone present erupted in whispers like a boiling pot. A story quickly formed in their minds: one of the princess and the young Taoist priest fighting side-by-side during yesterday’s imperial city turmoil, developing feelings for each other.

However… Zhao Xiang'er’s gentle gaze lasted only a moment. Soon, her eyes became serene, like the tranquil waters of a winter lake when they rested on Ning Changjiu.

Within her pale, icy gaze, a glint of fighting spirit emerged from the depths of the girl's pupils.

“I’ve been wondering who you truly are, all night long. While many things still puzzle me, it no longer matters,” Zhao Xiang'er said, looking into his eyes with a faint smile. “All I know now is that perhaps that old fox was nothing. You are the true whetstone Mother prepared for me.”

Ning Changjiu: “?”

Zhao Xiang'er looked at his face and said, “I know you might be completely unaware. After all, immortals possess divine foresight, and humans, walking on this grand chessboard of the world, inevitably become pawns.”

“…” Ning Changjiu: “Your Highness, have you perhaps misunderstood something about me?”

Zhao Xiang'er gently shook her head. “Your existence, your appearance, your role in this upheaval—it’s all too perfectly timed. Because it’s too coincidental, I believe it’s no coincidence… Most importantly…”

Ning Xiaoling looked up, her face a blank slate of confusion.

Lu Jiajia lowered her head slightly, deep in thought.

Ning Changjiu frowned and asked, “What is it?”

Zhao Xiang'er stared into his eyes, enunciating each word slowly: “Most importantly, you are a Taoist priest.”

Ning Changjiu asked, puzzled, “Demons are rampant nowadays. There are so many Taoist exorcists in this world, what’s so special about that?”

Zhao Xiang'er reached into her sleeve and slowly pulled out a bright red letter.

Ning Changjiu's expression subtly changed.

Holding the letter between her fingers, Zhao Xiang'er said seriously, “When I was a child, Mother arranged a marriage for me. This is the marriage contract.”

The hall erupted in an uproar. Long ago, there had indeed been rumors in court that the young mistress of Gan Yu Palace was betrothed. But rumors were just rumors, especially after the incident three years ago, which caused all the noble sons in Zhao who coveted her to give up hope. The gossip about the young princess’s childhood engagement was never mentioned again.

This marriage contract began with phrases like “a vow of lifelong companionship, pointing to a union of soulmates” and concluded with eight characters meaning “a perfect match, forever united in heart.”

As a child, bored, she had idly flipped through the contract and read it many times.

Now that she had personally taken out this marriage contract and displayed it before everyone, they found it hard to believe that someone like the Princess could actually be engaged, and by the empress herself. As for imagining the princess as a married woman, caring for her husband and raising children, everyone felt their imagination was simply insufficient…

Ning Changjiu stared at the marriage contract, suddenly feeling a headache coming on. He looked at Zhao Xiang'er in confusion and asked, “Then… should I congratulate Your Highness?”

Zhao Xiang'er gently shook her head. “I have never met the person on this marriage contract.”

Ning Changjiu said, “If it was an arranged marriage before birth, meeting on the wedding day is common among common folk.”

Zhao Xiang'er’s fingers tightened slightly, and her slender, crescent-like brows furrowed. Her thin lips trembled slightly, and her voice deepened: “This marriage contract expires when I turn sixteen, and the person named in it simply doesn’t exist.”

Ning Changjiu also frowned, becoming even more puzzled.

Sixteen years… Today was Zhao Xiang'er’s birthday, meaning after today, the marriage contract would become void?

But what did it mean that the other party on the contract simply didn’t exist?

Zhao Xiang'er said, “The man on this marriage contract is the last disciple of a certain Taoist master. But sixteen years have passed, and that master still hasn't found his last disciple… So this marriage contract is meaningless.”

For some reason, many people secretly breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that the marriage contract was meaningless, even though the news held no personal significance for them.

However, the words “last disciple” sent a ripple through Ning Changjiu’s heart. His eyes flickered, fixed on the marriage contract, and his fingers in his sleeve began to rapidly calculate.

Zhao Xiang'er paid no attention to the reactions of the crowd. With slightly bent knuckles, she pressed a corner of the marriage contract into her palm, her smile cool and clear. “I originally thought I would never meet my so-called fiancé, but…”

She looked at Ning Changjiu and continued, “But your appearance has caused a sense of bewilderment in my heart. Your talent is extraordinary, your skills are exceptional, your demeanor is unusual, and you happen to be a Taoist disciple. I don't know if it's a coincidence, but not only did you suppress the demonic nature of that demon seed, you also withstood that lightning tribulation right before my eyes. I believe this is no accident. Mother told me two sayings when I was little…”

“One was ‘Heaven’s calculations are not as good as human calculations,’ and the other was ‘Man can conquer nature.’”

“And in my heart, Mother’s calculations are like those of Heaven. Furthermore, how could something as significant as a marriage be arranged so casually?”

“And today, you appeared, even though your identity doesn’t quite perfectly match this marriage contract… So I want to ask you, before Ning Qinshui, did you have another master?”

After saying all this, Zhao Xiang'er quietly watched him, awaiting his answer.

Ning Changjiu’s brows remained tightly furrowed. He thought of his own marriage arrangement at sixteen—but that was an event from who knew how many years ago.

Yet, as Zhao Xiang'er said, all of this was simply too coincidental.

Last disciple…

LAST DISCIPLE!

Ning Changjiu’s eyes suddenly lit up. He remembered the faint, almost imperceptible aura he had always sensed within the imperial city.

Perhaps that was the last disciple Master had taken on again, and Zhao Xiang'er was the fiancée Master had prepared for that disciple!

The same last disciple, the same sixteen years of age, the same marriage contract.

At this moment, he understood everything. No wonder he had always been able to sense that aura—it was his junior brother, coming to meet his fiancée…

Had he made a choice completely opposite to what he had made back then?

He looked at Zhao Xiang'er's delicate dark brows and porcelain-white cheeks, his expression a mix of understanding and lingering confusion.

But… Master, why did you try to kill me back then? What is this disciple you’ve taken on now like, and what will they become?

Ning Changjiu felt a pang of despair.

He just didn’t understand: Zhao Xiang'er’s sixteenth birthday was almost over, so why hadn't his junior brother, who was clearly in the imperial city, come forward yet?

Could it be…

A strange thought popped into Ning Changjiu’s mind.

It couldn’t be a junior sister, could it?

Thinking this, he couldn’t help but gasp, and his gaze towards Zhao Xiang'er became somewhat peculiar.

Seeing his prolonged silence, Zhao Xiang'er also had her suspicions. She smiled faintly and said, “I understand, perhaps you have your secrets, and it might be inconvenient for you to speak publicly now. But it doesn’t matter, because… whether it’s you or not, I will not accept this marriage contract.”

Ning Changjiu felt little emotional stir from her words; after all, it wasn’t his engagement being called off. He just felt a faint twinge of pity for that junior brother, or… junior sister?

In any case, meeting Zhao Xiang'er, it wouldn't be easy to escape without being half-dead from exhaustion.

Ning Changjiu calmly asked, “May I see the marriage contract?”

Zhao Xiang'er’s eyes flickered, and her expression turned slightly odd. “What? I’m breaking off the engagement with you in front of everyone, and you’re not angry at all? Or are you… pretending to be calm? Surely you’re not… secretly delighted, are you?”

She didn’t know what Ning Changjiu was thinking.

Ning Changjiu also couldn’t guess what she was thinking.

Their gazes remained locked, each with their own secret intentions.

Zhao Xiang'er paused, then smiled. “What? Are you afraid I’ll tear up the marriage contract?”

Ning Changjiu said, “I just want to see it, just a quick look.”

Zhao Xiang'er snorted, not granting his wish. Her arm dropped, her fingers pushed, and she smoothly tucked the contract into her sleeve. “I won’t let you see it. Besides, this marriage contract isn’t important. I thought all night, if the person Mother chose for me truly is you, then I want to see why you deserve Mother’s favor.”

Ning Changjiu thought to himself, *This little girl usually seems so clever and mischievous, why does she seem a bit foolish now…*

He asked, puzzled, “Your Highness, what exactly do you want to do?”

Zhao Xiang'er stepped forward, leaning slightly. Ning Changjiu was half a head taller than her, but the young woman's slightly upturned gaze seemed to look down on him. Staring into his eyes, she said, “I challenge you to a battle.”