The next evening, dusk was setting in.0 Before the General’s Temple, the Emperor performed his rites, intoning solemnly to the Nine Loyal Souls that he would take Xie Wei as empress.0 From inside the temple came the faint thump of a clay drum.0 Hearing that drumbeat, the Xie Clan’s patriarch finally exhaled. His greatest fear had been that the Emperor sent a stand-in, but the Nine Loyal Souls would never answer a counterfeit. Their response was proof enough.0 Though, what those Loyal Souls truly were, even the old patriarch did not know.0 The party turned back for the mansion.0 The next day, early afternoon.0 Escorted by Zhao Gutong, the Emperor crossed the threshold.0 The 8,000 Flying Bear Army troops under Lu Xuanxian camped right beside the Xie residence. The patrols were so tight a fly couldn’t slip through.0 Beyond the Flying Bear Army lurked the ghost cavalry.0 Meanwhile, White Lotus agents hid in the shadows, and Red Lotus martial artists stood guard.0 At that moment, the Xie residence was the single hardest place on earth to break into; even if every major power gathered its mightiest champions, they wouldn’t get past the gate.0 The situation was sealed.0 With this base secured, the Emperor could maneuver his armies at will, strike or defend as he pleased, without pausing to recuperate.0 The temple ceremony had settled all divine formalities; what remained here was mere pageant.0 Official source is novel(ꜰ)ire.net Before the wedding, the Emperor completed his path with no issue. The drop of fourth rank blood revealed no unfamiliar face, proving once again he was the genuine sovereign.0 Then the marriage itself took place.0 The Emperor wore scarlet wedding robes and held the silk ball. On the other end, Xie Wei, her face hidden beneath a red veil, followed his lead. When the rites concluded, the Emperor took the high seat and a modest family banquet began.0 At the family banquet, several of Xie Jian’an’s own brothers had somehow claimed the seats of honor. They kept raising their cups, flattering the Emperor with oily praise, while Xie Jian’an himself sat near the end of the table, half-dozing over his wine.0 Li Yuan and Xie Yu sat with him on the lower side as well.0 After three rounds of drinks and five courses of food, Xie Jiangui—the same brother who had first welcomed Zhao Gutong at the gate—suddenly stood up, tipsy or foolhardy or both.0 “Our Xie Clan boasts not only heroes but beauties,” he slurred. “And the finest of those beauties are the sisters Xie Wei and Xie Yu. Here in Bright Moon Prefecture they’ve long been known as the Twin Xies, a pair so lovely even Immortals would covet them! Now that His Majesty and our Xie Clan are joined, wouldn’t it be perfect if both sisters became his? Splendid, positively splendid! Hahaha!”1 “Jiangui, you’ve had enough wine.” The patriarch gave a sharp grunt. Then he turned, hands folded in apology. “Your Majesty, forgive his loose tongue.”1 With that single sentence, the old man wiped away Jiangui’s offense.0 “Twin Xies?” The Emperor’s interest was piqued.0 Court veterans knew well his habit of collecting—wives and even other men’s wives held a particular fascination for him, which was why he could casually propose elevating Cui Huayin to noble rank. The fact that a woman already belonged to someone else only added spice.1 Now, hearing the famous nickname of the two sisters, his curiosity flared. His Flying Bear Army and ghost cavalry were stationed outside, the world lay ready for the taking, and after decades of patience he was drunk on his own impending triumph.0 Flushed with wine, he called out, “Xie Yu! Where is Xie Yu?”0 Xie Yu froze, bewildered that she had suddenly been singled out.0 Xie Jian’an’s eyes flicked sideways, and in that instant he understood. Under the table his fists clenched.0 He had always known the patriarch thought his branch of the family too strong and wanted him removed. Over the years Xie Jian’an had played the wastrel, even letting his brothers mock and bully him. Yet it still hadn’t soothed the old man’s fears.0 The patriarch couldn’t move against him directly0 Outside, Xie Jian’an’s son commanded 30,000 armored cavalry; inside, his eldest daughter controlled the shadow guards.0 The patriarch knew he couldn’t simply strike. So he had chosen a subtler knife, the Emperor’s peculiar tastes, and the Emperor’s current mood.0 Xie Jian’an suddenly recalled how, two years ago, the patriarch had announced a tournament to find Xie Yu a husband.0 The match had brought in a suitor who was, in Xie Jian’an’s eyes, perfect.0 Yet the patriarch never once bothered to meet the young man or inquire about his backing.0 This was the reason, to engineer tonight’s moment, have Xie Jiangui speak those words, and let the Emperor’s own hand cripple the clan head.0 The patriarch knew how deep the bond ran between father and daughter.0 Even the calmest man would lose his balance when the thing he loved most was threatened.0 The patriarch could now brush Xie Jian’an aside with a single polite sentence, then quietly hand control of the shadow guard to Xie Jiangui’s branch of the clan.0 As for the patriarch himself, he dreamed only of the high rank meat fields that would come when Yin and Yang were fully united; in the few years he had left, he meant to break through no matter what it cost.0 Xie Jian’an could almost see it already, his own 30,000 armored cavalry thrown out as the Emperor’s cannon fodder, while the patriarch watched in silent approval.0 Nothing else mattered to the old man; he was trading the entire Xie residence for one last shot at transcendence. Knowing death was near, he cared for nothing.0 Xie Jian’an had pondered this day and night; he saw the pattern as clearly as a falling leaf heralded autumn. But what good did understanding do? What could he change? The sudden knife in his back still left him numb. He forced a smile and kept drinking.0 Xie Yu stepped forward, graceful as a willow.0 High above, the Emperor chuckled. “Turn once for me.”0 Xie Yu’s face went pale. She glanced at Li Yuan, only to find him hugging his blade, lost in some distant thought, as if nothing at all were happening. Bitter resignation flooded her chest, yet she obediently spun. Her red dress flared like a flame, blooming into a perfect crimson circle, the grandest flower of early spring.0 “Exquisite,” the Emperor murmured, eyes gleaming.0 Xie Yu withdrew, returning to her seat. She cast a sidelong glance at Li Yuan, still the same blade obsessed trance.0 With a quiet sigh, she poured herself a brimming cup of wine and drained it. The liquor caught in her throat; she coughed softly. Only then did the man beside her return from whatever far-off realm his mind was wandering.0 “Slowly, Yu’er. Sip, don’t gulp,” Li Yuan said.0 “Since when do you run my life?” she shot back.0 “Oh.” He nodded, then folded his arms around the sword again and fell back into thought. The sight very nearly drove her mad. Her own husband acted as though her public humiliation were no more than a passing cloud. Yes, the one doing the teasing was a man no one dared offend, but still—0 She kept drinking. The more she drank, the more the wine burned; every swallow made her cough harder. Yet the man beside her, deep in some vast question, noticed nothing at all.0 At last she fetched a brutal spirit steeped with burning heart flower petals and all but poured it down her throat.0