Every grievance I harbored against you dissolved into nothing the instant I saw you.
On a magical planet with vast lands, there exists a country called Shénlóng. Many believe that the first emperor of Shénlóng was a direct descendant of the holy dragon. The empire had a great legacy and years of prosperity, with peace prevailing after the Third Great War. Our tale begins in Luyun, a small village located somewhere closer to the border cradled by breathtaking landscapes and dense forests, rarely trodden by outsiders.
As night falls, Luyun, typically shrouded in tranquility, finds its streets alive with anticipation. The cause of the stir: a procession of extravagantly decorated carriages, their presence heralded by the enchanting melodies of a dizi flute, signaling a bride's journey to her groom's abode. The villagers, drawn from their homes by the spectacle, marvel at the lavish dowry on display. Yet, the sight of the Zhou family's flag among the procession sends murmurs of astonishment through the crowd.
"Mommy, Mommy! Look at the Zhou family's carriages!" a child exclaims, tugging at her mother's sleeve.
"What are... oh, indeed, those are the Zhou carriages! But... our village's Zhou family doesn't have a daughter to marry off," her mother responds, puzzled.
"Uncle Wi, do you know who the bride is in these beautiful carriages?" the child, known affectionately as Mew, asks with wide-eyed curiosity.
"Haha, our little Mew is as curious as ever! Yes, these belong to the Zhou family, but they have three sons, no daughters. It's a mystery who the young bride could be," Uncle Wi chuckles, his voice tinged with wonder.
"Let us all accompany the procession. Whomever the bride may be, she is with our village's Zhou family—a joyous occasion indeed! Let's go!" a villager suggests, and a chorus of agreement follows.
"Yes, let's walk together!" echoes through the crowd.
As cheers and curious murmurs ripple through the gathering crowds, the procession of carriages advances with an undisturbed, tranquil pace. All eyes are drawn to the one carriage in particular, shrouded in an aura of mystery. Within, the bride remains motionless, with presence marked only by the subtle twitch of fingers and the gentle rise and fall of chest. These faint signs of life serve as a silent testament that is no mere figure of ornate fabric and jewels but a living, breathing person. The delicate movements betray the calm facade, hinting at the emotions veiled beneath the surface. As the carriage rolls on, the villagers' intrigue deepens, their gazes locked on the slight figure ensconced within, a living enigma wrapped in traditional bridal red.
As the procession of extravagant carriages comes to a halt in front of a humble, somewhat dilapidated yet lovingly maintained home on the village's outskirts, near the forest, a moment of silent anticipation envelops the crowd. The Zhou family's butler steps forward, a horn in hand, and with a practiced motion, he sends a sonorous call echoing through the air, announcing the arrival with a resonance that seems to reach the very heart of the village. The onlookers, their curiosity piqued to new heights, watch as he prepares to address the occupants of the house.
With a deep breath, the butler's voice rings out, clear and authoritative, "The eldest son of the Li family is requested to come forth, to honor his pledge by accepting our Zhou family's eldest son as his bride."
He pauses, the weight of his words hanging in the air, then continues with a note of solemnity, "The Zhou family stands before you today to honor a life debt owed to the Li family, by offering our eldest in betrothal"
Loud gasps pierce the air as the crowd, unable to fathom the unfolding events, reacts with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief. The Zhou family, pillars of virtue in their modest village, command respect far and wide, their eldest son renowned for an integrity and cultivation prowess matched by few across the continent. The idea that the Li family, by comparison seemingly unremarkable, could claim a life debt of such magnitude from the Zhou—to the extent of demanding their eldest son in marriage—stirs a tumult of emotions among the onlookers.
Faces etched with confusion and displeasure ripple through the crowd. The villagers, on the brink of stepping forward, hold back, their respect for the families involved keeping them at bay. Yet, the murmur of speculation and concern grows louder.
"Isn't the Li family's eldest..." one whispers, trailing off as another jumps in, "Yes, him. I saw him a few months ago."
"And I've heard something happened to him," another adds, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to click together amidst the gathered crowd.
"Yes, didn't he return with a son? I heard he was in dire straits," someone else contributes, voice low, as if sharing a secret.
"Shh, let's not jump to conclusions. We must wait for the Li family to emerge and provide answers," a voice of reason among the restless villagers suggests.
"But how could the Li family possibly hold such a debt against the Zhou?" the question hangs in the air, unanswered, adding to the palpable tension.
A fleeting frown mars the bride's veiled face, a subtle twitch of fingers betraying his reaction to the whispers and rumors swirling through the crowd about his future husband. Yet, as swiftly as it appears, the expression vanishes, leaving no trace it ever existed. Zhou Jingfeng, the eldest son, embodies his reputation in moments like these. His emotions are a fortress seldom breached, his face a mask of serene impassivity. Yet, beneath this calm exterior lies a gentle demeanor that has made Jingfeng the epitome of a gentleman, earning him universal admiration within the village.
Jingfeng's ability to maintain such composure, especially under the weight of the villagers' scrutiny and the unexpected turn his life is taking, speaks volumes of his character. Raised among whispers of his unparalleled integrity and martial prowess, he has always stood as a pillar of strength and virtue. In him, the villagers see not just a figure of respect but a beacon of the values they hold dear. Despite the unfolding drama, Jingfeng's presence is a calming force, a reminder of the dignity and grace with which he carries the legacy of his name.
"Aah, it's such a shame for a man of Jingfeng's stature to be marrying into the Li family," a voice laments from among the gathered crowd, echoing the collective unease. The statement, heavy with sympathy and a tinge of disbelief, ripples through the onlookers, encapsulating the conflicting emotions swirling through the village.
Just then, an elderly couple emerges, their warm yet weary expressions betraying a mix of discomfort and resignation amidst the unexpected commotion. It was clear they anticipated this day might come, yet the precise timing—a surprise, catching them off guard. Trailing behind, embodying the heart of the turmoil, Li Chuangxin strides forward. His long hair flows freely, his robes slightly askew, signaling a disregard for the formalities typically observed in such significant moments. A faint aroma of wine trails in his wake, suggesting recent indulgence, yet his steps are sure and steady.
Li Chuangxin had missed the butler's formal announcement, only catching wind of the situation when his parents mentioned someone was calling for him. With a heart guarded yet a demeanor that spoke of nonchalance, he approached, his gaze landing on the line of bridal carriages adorned with the Zhou family's flag.
"Wait, this can't be," he murmurs, stepping past his parents with a mix of confusion and intrigue. The butler, reaffirming the purpose of their visit, steps forward to greet him, yet Li Chuangxin, seemingly oblivious to the gathered crowd's stares, moves towards the carriage as if drawn by an unseen force, his disheveled appearance stark against the ceremony's solemnity.
Li Chuangxin, driven by a mix of impulsivity and intrigue, rushes towards the bride's carriage, heedless of the cautionary voices around him. With a sudden motion, he reaches inside and grabs Zhou Jingfeng's hand, pulling with such force that Jingfeng stumbles out of the carriage and towards him. The veil shifts slightly, revealing just a fragment of Jingfeng's face, leaving Chuangxin frozen in a state of shock. His eyes widen, not with joy, but with sheer disbelief at the sight before him.
In that moment of confusion, a kind-faced old man from the crowd steps forward as Jingfeng regains his composure, standing upright and facing his future husband, who is still gripping his hand. Both men, caught in a tableau of unexpected intimacy, appear equally dazed. Jingfeng's gaze lowers to their intertwined hands, his expression inscrutable.
The old man, unable to hold back, addresses them, "Little Xin, I know not of your family's life debt to the Zhou, but... you both are men. Listen to me, the Zhou family can find you a noblewoman of beauty and virtue to wed, in gratitude for all their contributions. Don't you think this is a bit..." His voice trails off as the crowd begins to echo his sentiment, offering their daughters in marriage, insisting that any alternative would be better, promising collective support to 'right' the situation for the Zhou's sake.
Chuangxin's face hardens as the murmurs grow louder, his frustration mounting. The remnants of his hangover press against his temples, threatening to evolve into a full-blown headache. Just as he prepares to voice his tangled thoughts, a soft, yet clear declaration cuts through the noise:
"I want to get married."
The statement, barely louder than a whisper but carrying the weight of undeniable resolve, silences the crowd instantaneously. Even Chuangxin's features lose their color, his expression shifting from irritation to utter astonishment.