The blazing sun hung high overhead.
At this moment, Qi Yuyong, a cultivator at the Hua Shen Qi stage, looked just like a mundane farmwife. She squatted by the vegetable patch, her jade-white fingers awkwardly gripping an Old Shovel, poking at the soil again and again.
She was an Immortal of the Hua Shen Qi, so naturally not a speck of dirt would touch her.
Even when standing right in the mud, her Spirit Treasure Immortal Dress remained spotless.
Yet, the frustration in her heart was about to spill over.
Senior Sister actually forbade her from using even a trace of spiritual power! She insisted that Qi Yuyong must “personally” till this wretched patch of land, saying something about “sincerity of intent.”
Wu Zhaohua stepped out of the house, her elegant brows slightly furrowed. Leaning against the mottled doorframe, arms folded, she asked:
“Why isn’t he back yet? Is the tavern that busy today?”
Her lotus-like arms pressed together, creating shifting curves of snowy white, a sight that drew the eyes irresistibly.
No matter how busy the tavern usually got at this hour, Jiang Huai would always come to bring her food, brew her medicine, and exchange a few words.
Day after day, for years, he’d cared for Wu Zhaohua this way.
Yet today, he was suddenly nowhere to be seen.
“Senior Sister I really think we need to reconsider the candidate for Successor.”
“Our Sect may not compare to the Two Palaces Three Sects, but with you here, we’re only a little behind. How can we make such a hasty promise?” Qi Yuyong muttered.
She dared not talk back to a Da Cheng Senior Sister, but how could the position of Successor be given away so easily?
If things went on like this, how could she answer to Honored Master’s instructions?
Wu Zhaohua paid no heed to Qi Yuyong’s words. Instead, anxiety began to gnaw at her heart, and her delicate face gradually turned unsightly.
It was like a wife, full of anticipation, having prepared a gift with care, yet left waiting endlessly at the door for her husband to return.
Qi Yuyong sneaked a glance upward, her heart skipping a beat.
At this moment, Senior Sister leaning at the door looked nothing like the awe-inspiring Da Cheng cultivator who looked down on all beings.
Her tightly pressed lips, her vacant gaze toward the courtyard gate—there was only the anxious stubbornness of a mortal woman waiting in vain for her husband.
What kind of means did that Successor have, to make Senior Sister become like this?
A faint sound of footsteps approached.
Wu Zhaohua’s heart stirred, then immediately sank.
It wasn’t him.
“Anyone home?”
“There’s someone here. Are you Jiang Huai’s relatives?” Lin Cai poked her head into the courtyard, holding two Flowerpots in her arms.
When her gaze swept over Wu Zhaohua and Qi Yuyong’s faces, she froze for a moment.
These two were completely out of place with their surroundings, as if two portraits of beauties had been hung in the yard.
Wu Zhaohua narrowed her beautiful eyes. She recognized the woman before her.
Back when she first brought Jiang Huai to the small town, her Human Tribulation hadn’t worsened yet, and she could still get out of bed freely.
At that time, she’d dealt with Lin Cai, and it was Lin Cai who’d introduced Jiang Huai to the tavern job.
“Where is Jiang Huai? Where did he go?” Wu Zhaohua stepped forward lightly and asked.
Lin Cai met Wu Zhaohua’s gaze, her heart inexplicably panicking, as if those Dan Phoenix Eyes could see right through her.
She hurriedly set down the Flowerpots, her voice dry: “T-The Town Chief had something for Jiang Huai. H-He won’t be coming back… He asked me to bring these flowers…”
Before she could finish, she turned to leave.
Perhaps because of a guilty conscience, her back felt icy cold, and she didn’t dare meet Wu Zhaohua’s eyes at all.
Wu Zhaohua’s gaze swept over the Flowerpots.
The gentleness that had just begun to rise in her eyes froze instantly when she heard “won’t be coming back.”
“Stop.”
A gentle breeze brushed past.
An invisible force instantly seized Lin Cai, pinning her in place mid-stride.
She couldn’t even move her eyes.
Wu Zhaohua’s figure floated silently upward, her skirt fluttering without wind, black hair shimmering like dark jade beneath the blazing sun.
She hovered in front of Lin Cai, looking down from above, her gaze icy, her tone laced with chill:
“Tell me, where did Jiang Huai go?”
“What did that fat woman want from him?”
“Speak clearly, or you’ll regret it.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it pressed down on Lin Cai’s heart like a mountain.
Cold sweat soaked Lin Cai’s back.
Her teeth chattered, and any hope of luck was crushed under absolute pressure.
Thoughts spun through her mind.
Since this woman was an Immortal, maybe she really could save Jiang Huai—maybe even the whole town.
After only a moment’s struggle, she forced herself to speak:
“Immortal, I’ll say it, I’ll say it……..”
“Jiang Huai… is going to be offered as a sacrifice to a demon beast.”
The cramped sedan was stifling to the point of suffocation.
Outside the small town, Jiang Huai’s hands were bound behind him to the sedan’s pillar with coarse hemp rope.
He wore a Red Wedding Robe, a Bridal Crown on his head, and a Red Veil covering his face.
It looked like wedding attire, but it felt more like a prisoner’s garb.
He’d barely put on the wedding clothes before being tied up and carried away in the bridal sedan, heading out of town.
Which powerful official’s family had taken a fancy to him? Did they really have to use such a crazy method to marry him off?
“I say, ladies outside, I’m about to get married here—can you at least tell me who I’m supposed to marry?” Jiang Huai shouted from inside the sedan.
Only silence answered him.
The sedan carried him steadily to some unknown destination, making Jiang Huai more and more uneasy.
Panic coiled around him like a creeping vine, tightening with every passing moment.
Who exactly was he marrying? Why so mysterious? Could it be… the Palace?
If he was really married off, what about Wu Zhaohua? She was still bedridden, unable to get up at will.
Without him caring for her, who would look after her with that temperament of hers?
After living together so long, feelings had already grown—how could he just leave her behind?
Thinking of this, Jiang Huai grew increasingly agitated, stamping his feet in anxiety.
He suddenly kicked hard at the sedan wall, shouting angrily: “Who exactly am I supposed to marry? Can’t you at least give me a name?!”
“Even if you’re abducting me, shouldn’t I know who it is?!”
Again, only silence outside.
Then, finally, a voice drifted in: “We’re here.”
The sedan jolted and finally came to a halt.
In an instant, the shrill sound of suona, the clamor of drums and gongs, and the crackle of firecrackers all flooded Jiang Huai’s ears—a riotous, festive din.
Here? Already? Hadn’t they just set out?
Jiang Huai, full of doubt, waited quietly for the curtain to be lifted.
He wanted to see just who was making such a grand display to marry him.
Suddenly, he seemed to hear the sound of waves, pounding against his eardrums.
Whoosh… splash… It was river water!
Was this by the riverbank? Who would hold a wedding by the river?
A chill raced up Jiang Huai’s spine.
A terrifying possibility flashed through his mind.
He began to struggle desperately, wrists tearing against the rough hemp rope until blood seeped out.
‘Go home, I want to go home, I can’t go—’
Outside, the voice of the Jian Zhen rang out: “The Auspicious Hour has come! Send the Jiang Family Gentleman, as an offering to the River God!”
“This is his fortune and the blessing of our entire town! With this feast, the River God will surely grant us bountiful harvests and calm waters!”
“Jian Zhen is wise!”
A few rough-handed women in the crowd led the cheers, clutching their worn sleeves, eyes shining with a mix of hope and fear.
“The hour has come! Present the Offerings!” Jian Zhen’s staff struck the ground with a heavy thud.
The bridal sedan suddenly soared into the air.
In a dizzying rush, Jiang Huai’s world spun as the entire sedan plunged into the great river.