Path of the Sect Leader

Qi Xiu turned thirty-nine on his wedding day.

Most men would have rushed into marriage long before hitting forty, itching for it years earlier. But Qi Xiu felt only bone-deep exhaustion. His mind churned with the succession feud between Zhang Shishi and Zhan Yuan—those two vying for the sect leader's seat like wolves over scraps. He couldn't shake it off.

"Has Senior Kan arrived yet?"

All he wanted right now was to pour his heart out to Kan Lin. The man had talked him through a rough patch once before. Qi Xiu craved that steady guidance again, some shred of comfort in this mess.

"Not yet. You forgot—he never sets foot in this tangled valley."

"Come on, Sect Leader. Today's your big day. Let go of those worries."

Zhang Shishi and Zhan Yuan chimed in one after the other, blissfully unaware of the storm raging in Qi Xiu's head.

A heavy sigh escaped him inwardly. You two are the ones keeping me up at night.

He rose from his seat. The Chu Qin Sect's crimson robes had given way to lavish scarlet wedding garb. The Wei family had pinned an enormous silk flower to his chest, only accentuating how his shorter stature stood out like a sore thumb. Stepping out of the thatched hall, he surveyed the square: a towering canopy draped in bright red silk, everything decked out fresh and festive. Cultivators from all over milled about, chatting lively. None of them had ties to Chu Qin—they were here purely for the Wei family's clout. Their emissary stood at the mountain gate alongside Yu Denou, both scanning the horizon with barely concealed impatience.

"Here she comes!"

"The bride's arrived!"

The emissaries' shouts rang out. A massive crimson butterfly-peng soared in from the distance, slicing through the air. The crowd fell silent, holding collective breath. Musicians struck up jubilant tunes without missing a beat. Even before the beast touched down, fragrant petals cascaded from its back—a rain of flowers turning the valley into something straight out of a mortal fairytale.

The butterfly-peng landed gracefully. A handful of beaming Qi Condensation female cultivators hopped down first, gently escorting the bride.

"Go on, get moving..."

Zhang Shishi, ever the experienced one, prodded Qi Xiu in the back—he'd frozen there, lost in his thoughts. With a helpless shrug, Qi Xiu forced himself forward, each step toward the bride feeling like marching to his own execution.

Up close, the broad red veil and heavy robes concealed everything. No hint of who waited beneath. He positioned himself beside her, reaching for her hand.

Their fingers brushed. She flinched subtly, a shy recoil that sent a cool chill through his palm. He gripped gently anyway, leading her under the canopy. Hundreds of eyes tracked them into the main hall: double-happiness banners hanging high, red candles flickering warmth. Close allies, matchmakers, and emissaries waited inside.

Qi Xiu shot Yu Denou a questioning glance. Time to bow to heaven, earth, and ancestors. But Yu Denou kept signaling the Wei emissary, who stonewalled him cold.

"Just a moment. The auspicious hour hasn't arrived."

It had arrived minutes ago. The Wei cultivator stood firm, repeating the line like it was carved in stone. The grand ceremony ground to a halt. Qi Xiu stood there awkwardly, that cold little hand slipping free from his grasp before he knew it.

Commotion erupted outside, then died just as quick. Qi Xiu frowned—what now?—when the Wei emissary's voice boomed: "All rise to welcome the Old Ancestor!"

"The Old Ancestor? Wei Xuan's here?"

Shock rippled through him. A Golden Core elder showing up for some Qi Condensation junior's wedding? Whatever game was Wei Xuan playing with this farce?

"What are you waiting for? Kneel!"

The emissary hissed at Qi Xiu, still rooted in place. Irritation flared, but he dropped to his knees all the same—while quietly activating his [See Human Nature] innate gift on the man.

Late Qi Condensation. Dual natal affinities: [Heavenly Waters] and [Long-Beaked Spirit Thrush]. Water and beast dual Spiritual Roots. Current thoughts: Hmph. This Qi Xiu's got nothing going for him—just some runt leading a tiny sect. What's so special? Why's the Old Ancestor insisting on marrying Min-niang off to trash like this?

Min-niang... so that's the bride's childhood name.

Under his gift—a divine-grade talent that laid bare affinities, roots, and even fleeting thoughts for peers—nothing hid. Head bowed, he stole a peripheral glance at the bride. She knelt too, body trembling faintly. Fear of Wei Xuan, plain as day.

He considered scanning her as well, but held back. She was to be his wife, after all. Respect mattered. If he hadn't fumbled the gift's control right after breakthrough, he might never have glimpsed Zhang and Zhan's hidden ambitions. Some truths hurt more than ignorance. Sometimes, playing dumb beat being sharp.

Thoughts scattered as Wei Xuan approached.

"Rise, all of you."

Qi Xiu stood. The man looked barely past forty—mid-prime for a Golden Core cultivator with five centuries of life. Barely two hundred years old. Young, by their standards.

"Greetings, Old Ancestor Wei."

He bowed again. Then [Illuminate Self-Heart] triggered unbidden—a covert thread of Spiritual Qi probing his body. He feigned ignorance. So Wei Xuan suspected something. Since when? The tournament, maybe?

"No need for formalities. Affairs press—I have little time. Proceed with the rites."

Whatever he'd gleaned from the scan showed nothing on his mild face. Qi Xiu wasn't fool enough to probe a Golden Core with his gift. He complied: bowing to heaven and earth together, then to Wei Xuan as high seat, finally facing each other as husband and wife.

Rites done, Wei Xuan offered bland pleasantries—live well, cherish each other—before departing. Flattery swelled from the guests outside as he soared away, vanishing into the sky.

Bai Muhong stepped forward, guiding the bride to the repurposed thatched hall turned bridal chamber. Cultivators flooded in, crowding Qi Xiu with sudden warmth. Wei Xuan's brief appearance flipped their attitudes overnight—snobbish one moment, fawning the next.

He endured it, toasting endlessly. Wine flowed freely; empty flattery numbed his ears. Faces blurred into a haze—he couldn't tell one bootlicker from another, just clinked cups with these newfound "brothers" until he feigned collapse. Zhan Yuan hauled him to an empty hall.

"With the Old Ancestor gracing us, Chu Qin finally carries weight around these mountains."

Zhan Yuan whispered, knowing full well he wasn't drunk.

"Don't let empty fame weigh you down..."

Qi Xiu waved him off—a veiled warning, layered meaning. But Zhan Yuan missed it entirely, lost in dreams of the sect's bright future under that Golden Core glow.

"Auspicious hour's here—into the bridal chamber!"

"Where's the groom? Groom!"

Slurred shouts and shuffling feet. Yu Denou, face flushed crimson from drink, dragged Qi Xiu toward the chamber.

"You... hiding here? Hurry... don't miss the hour..."

"You're the drunk one."

"Me? Pfft. Groom's business is the chamber. Go!"

Yu Denou was plastered. Wei Xuan's arrival had unleashed a torrent of toasts from those sycophants—some held their liquor, others crumbled.

In a surge of drunken strength, he shoved Qi Xiu inside and slammed the door. Laughter echoed outside, fading as Zhan Yuan likely hauled him away.

Qi Xiu shook his head with a wry smile. Turning, he froze.

The bride stood in the corner—no veil now, waiting for him to lift it. Scarlet robes swapped for plain white. Barely past twenty, tear tracks streaking her face. Those captivating phoenix eyes swollen red from crying, framed by arched brows and crimson lips. Fragile beauty, like a lone lotus battered by storm—pity welled up unbidden.

A stir in his chest. So his wife was this stunning.

"You're just after the Wei family's power. Don't touch me. Or I'll end it right here."

Her words doused that fleeting warmth cold.

What the hell? Neither of us wants this. What's Wei Xuan scheming?

Frustration knotted his gut. He scanned her with [See Human Nature]. Resolve firm—death over submission. Pity deepened for this woman caught in the same trap.

"Perhaps... we're both just pawns in this game."

With that, he retreated to the opposite corner, settled cross-legged, and slipped into meditation.

One room, worlds apart. That's how they spent their strange wedding night.