Chapter 18
Chapter 18: I'll Kill You
Song Ning smiled at Xia Ling's compliment but said nothing.
Besides, he couldn't see his own appearance in this life, nor could he truly hear an honest assessment.
Who would say to a blind person's face that they were ugly?
Song Ning had once suspected it was because he was too unattractive—that it was the reason Qi Chuyao treated him so poorly.
Xia Ling raised her head and looked at him.
That face was made all the more striking by the red Wedding Robes.
His brows and eyes were relaxed, a faint smile resting at the corners of his mouth, and those white eyes were slightly downcast, his lashes casting soft shadows on his eyelids.
‘Truly beautiful.’
She thought to herself.
‘If it were me he was marrying.......’
The thought had barely risen before Xia Ling pushed it back down herself, a faint, self-mocking smile tugging at her lips.
She was nothing more than a little beggar, nearly starved to death back then, picked up off the roadside and brought home by him.
Lucky enough to be kept by his side, to learn letters, to wear warm clothes, to no longer go hungry or suffer the cold.
That was already a gift beyond measure—what right did she have to dream of anything more?
Even if it wasn't Qi Chuyao he was marrying, it would never be her turn.
The sound of footsteps outside the door broke through her thoughts.
Xia Shuang pushed the door open and entered, still dressed in her green skirt, sword cradled in her arms.
She swept a glance around the room, her gaze lingering briefly on Song Ning before shifting away.
She said nothing, only silently took her place by the door, that cool expression still fixed on her pretty face, occasionally spacing out.
Song Ning heard the movement and turned his head slightly in her direction.
"All ready?"
Xia Shuang gave a nod and said, "Mm."
In the distance, the sound of gongs and drums rang out, drawing closer and closer.
The noise was lively—clashing and clanging, beating and drumming—mingling with the crack of firecrackers, surging toward them from down the road.
The wedding procession had arrived.
The Song Family Estate was decked out in festive splendor today—great red lanterns strung from the front gate all the way to the back courtyard, the colonnade pillars wrapped in red silk and plastered with golden Double-Happiness Characters.
The guests' carriages and horses stretched from the mouth of the alley all the way to the end of the street—those draped in brocade robes, those in official caps, those riding in Palanquins, those on horseback—coming and going in an endless stream.
In the Main Hall, Qi's Mother, dressed in crimson ceremonial robes, greeted guests from all sides with a beaming smile.
"Minister Qi, congratulations, congratulations!"
"Your daughter's great marriage—what a celebrated occasion for our capital!"
"With the Qi and Song families joined in matrimony, this only deepens the bond between them!"
The congratulations rose one after another, and Qi's Mother answered each in turn, the smile on her face entirely genuine.
She was truly happy today. That child Song Ning—she'd watched him grow up. His character, appearance, and ability were all first-rate. To be matched with her own worthless daughter was more than generous enough.
As for whether her daughter was willing?
Hmph. Once she understood in time, she would naturally be grateful.
In the rear courtyard, Qi Chuyao was in the midst of dressing.
She stood before the mirror, letting the attendants help her into the great red bridal gown.
The figure in the mirror was clothed entirely in red—hair pinned high, adorned with golden hairpins and step-swaying ornaments, face dusted with a thin layer of powder and rouge.
Qi Chuyao stared at her own reflection and suddenly felt utterly estranged from it.
"Do you think I count as marrying young?" She turned to look at Qin Junyue at her side, a note of disbelief in her voice. "It all feels like a dream."
A hasty marriage to someone she didn't even like—she felt as though she'd been forced into it like a duck being herded onto a shelf.
Even now, it didn't feel real to her.
Qin Junyue stood by the window. She had also changed into fresh clothes today—the dark outfit replaced by a deep teal long robe, which lent her bearing an air of stillness amid its natural vigor.
Hearing this, she furrowed her brows slightly, then quickly adjusted her expression and said softly:
"Setting up a home and starting a life—it's not so bad."
Her tone was flat, betraying no particular emotion.
Qi Chuyao pursed her lips, about to say more, when the door suddenly burst open and a crowd of people poured in.
It was her circle of peers—young misses from various households in the capital, companions she played polo with, drank with, and made merry with in ordinary days.
They came in laughing and chattering, packing the already spacious room to the brim.
"Oh, you look beautiful!"
"Miss Qi is simply radiant today!"
"Come, come, let us have a proper look!"
The group surrounded Qi Chuyao, talking and laughing all at once.
Qi Chuyao stood at the center of it all, a smile on her face, yet her heart grew increasingly unsettled.
‘Why does it feel like they've all come to watch me make a fool of myself?’
When a person cares too deeply about something, that very thing tends to surface most easily in her heart.
Sure enough, a young woman in a pale yellow skirt sidled over, a faint smile at her lips:
"I hear the Young Master of the Song Family is quite the looker—Miss Qi, you truly are fortunate."
Qi Chuyao smiled but did not reply.
The young woman, however, was relentless, pressing on:
"A pity, though—the looks are rather well-matched, it's just the eyes..."
She deliberately drew out the syllables, casting Qi Chuyao a meaningful look.
The laughter around them faltered.
Qi Chuyao's face flushed crimson all at once.
"What nonsense are you spouting?" she said through clenched teeth.
The young woman was in no hurry—if anything, her smile deepened:
"What did I say? I was only speaking the truth."
"Don't take it to heart, Miss Qi. After all... it is what it is, isn't it?"
Several young women around her joined in with laughter—a shrill, grating sound, as though deliberately looking for trouble.
"Miss Qi will just have to... ah, what a shame, what a shame."
One jab followed another, each like a blade stabbing into Qi Chuyao's heart.
This young woman's name was Wei Ning. Her mother was a capital official, and she had been recognized as Wei Yang's adopted daughter, which was why she had taken the name Wei Ning.
In ordinary times, she and Qi Chuyao were acquainted—after all, they were both daughters of capital officials.
Qi Chuyao trembled with anger, yet could find no words.
How could she not know all this? She understood it better than anyone.
But to have it said to her face like this—she still felt her face burning, as though she'd been slapped in front of a crowd.
It was at that very moment that a hand shot out.
Qin Junyue grabbed Wei Ning by the collar and hoisted her clean off the ground.
"You—"
Before Wei Ning could even react, Qin Junyue slammed her hard against the wall.
The back of her head struck the wall, stars bursting in her vision from the pain. She was about to cry out when a flash of cold light appeared before her eyes.
A short blade was pressed against her lips.
The blade was ice-cold, flush against her mouth—one push forward, and it would split her flesh open.
"If I ever hear you speaking ill of Song Ning behind his back again," Qin Junyue's voice was frigid, "believe me when I say I'll cut out your tongue."
"You Eunuch Party cur—you dare come here and run wild? Believe me, I'll kill you right here and now!"
She looked down at Wei Ning from above, her eyes blazing with a murderous gleam that made no effort to conceal itself.
Wei Ning went rigid all over, too afraid to move a muscle.
She could feel the blade against her lips, smell the faint scent of iron, and see the undisguised killing intent in the depths of Qin Junyue's eyes.
The other party truly wanted to kill her—that killing intent, belonging to a Martial Artist, could not be faked.
A few threads of blood seeped from the corner of her lips, cut by the blade's edge.
The room fell into utter silence.
Those young misses who had been laughing and clamoring just moments before now stood frozen, not daring to breathe.
Qin Junyue was a 2nd Rank Martial Artist—a rare and exceptional talent. If it truly came to blows, all of them combined wouldn't be a match for Qin Junyue alone.