I'll make you the furnace and the cauldron, so you can refine Yin and Yang and prove the Great

The next morning.

When Li Hanshan pushed open the door of the decorated little house, the morning light was seeping in through the gaps in the window paper, casting a thin golden band of light on the bluestone floor.

The room was small, but every corner had been carefully arranged—a vase of freshly picked spirit flowers sat on the windowsill, with dewdrops still clinging to the petals; a dark red silk cloth was spread on the table, upon which rested a pair of silver-white wine glasses; and a brand-new red "double happiness" character hung on the wall, written with neat and upright strokes, clearly by Shen Yun herself.

Shen Qingyue was already standing inside the room.

Today she wore a light blue wedding dress, her long hair carefully styled and secured with a silver hairpin, a few strands falling beside her ears. Her face had a touch more rouge than usual, and her clear eyes shone brightly in the morning light, like a shallow stream illuminated by the rising sun. She stood there, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze fixed on the ground, not daring to look up at him.

Shen Yun stood by the table between them, wearing a deep purple formal dress today. She picked up the pair of silver wine glasses from the table, handing one to Li Hanshan and the other to Shen Qingyue.

When Shen Qingyue took the wine glass, her fingertips lightly touched her mother's fingertips.

Shen Yun nodded slightly without speaking, but the gesture itself was enough—like solemnly transplanting an orchid that she had carefully cultivated for many years to another piece of land.

Guided by Shen Yun, the two went through a simple wedding ceremony.

There were no guests, no music, only the three of them completing the simple ceremony in the morning light. As Shen Qingyue lowered her head and drank the wine in her cup in one gulp, a nearly invisible tear welled up in the corner of her eye, which was reflected in the morning light as tiny specks of light.

Shen Yun reached out and tidied her daughter's hair that had fallen beside her ear, then turned to Li Hanshan, her voice carrying a solemn tone of relief: "She is your wife now. Treating her well is the greatest reward you can give me."

After she finished speaking, she took a few steps back, slightly turned her head towards the wooden door leading to the inner room, then turned and walked out of the room, her footsteps gradually fading away on the stone steps outside the door.

Li Hanshan walked up to Shen Qingyue and gently took her hand.

Her fingertips were slightly cool, trembling subtly with nervousness. He could feel her quiver slightly the moment he grasped hers, like a candle flame flickering in the wind, but she didn't pull away; instead, she gripped his fingers tightly.

He led her across the threshold and into the inner room.

The interior room was more simply furnished than the outer room. A wooden bed covered with a dark red brocade rug stood against the east wall, with an unlit dragon and phoenix candle on the headboard.

On the windowsill sat another vase of freshly picked flowers, their petals gleaming softly in the twilight filtering through the window paper. On the wall above the bed hung another red "double happiness" character, its brushstrokes even more fluid than the one in the outer room; it must have been written by Shen Yun herself.

Shen Qingyue sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded on her knees, her back straight, her gaze fixed on the ground in front of her knees, her long eyelashes trembling gently in the twilight.

She could hear Li Hanshan lighting the lamp at the table, hear the faint crackling of the candle flame dancing on the wick, and feel her heartbeat accelerating at a speed unfamiliar to her.

Li Hanshan lit the pair of dragon and phoenix candles, and then casually turned up the lamp on the table a little, the warm yellow light enveloping the entire inner room in a gentle, warm glow.

He walked to the bedside and sat down on the edge of the bed covered with a dark red brocade quilt. He turned his head to look at Shen Qingyue beside him and could feel her tense up slightly the moment he sat down, and then slowly relax.

He reached out, his fingertips touching the edge of the silver hairpin at the edge of her hair bun. Shen Qingyue's body stiffened slightly, but she didn't pull away. He could feel the slight tickling sensation caused by the few strands of hair that fell to her shoulder as his fingertips brushed against them.

"Qingyue..." he began, his voice neither too loud nor too soft, carrying a gentle tone like a spring night stream that he had never used in battle or negotiation.

The moment he spoke, Shen Qingyue felt as if a long-held tension had been touched by those three words, and her whole body trembled slightly, like a bamboo forest being blown by the wind.

She looked up, her clear eyes gleaming warmly in the candlelight, and before Li Hanshan could finish his sentence, she reached out and gently pressed her finger to his lips.

"Don't say it." Her voice was low, carrying a solemnity that she herself might not fully understand. "I know what you want to say. Say that you were actually forced by my mother, say that you have someone else in your heart."

She lowered her eyelashes. "I don't care. You just need to... be good to me. My mother said you would be good to me." Her fingers trembled slightly as she withdrew them from his lips, then she looked down, her fingertips touching the tie at the edge of her shirt.

Li Hanshan gently pressed her hand down, preventing her from untying it herself. He could feel the cool touch of her fingertips, like the edge of a bamboo leaf moistened by dew, carrying a perfectly balanced warmth. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "I don't dislike you."

A familiar blush rose to Shen Qingyue's ears, like the edge of a sheet of rice paper illuminated by candlelight.

Her hand loosened from his, allowing him to guide the untying of her blouse. Only the soft rustling of their clothes filled the room, and the fragrance of the perfumed flower on the windowsill slowly diffused in the warmth of the twilight and candlelight.

A red candle burned quietly by the bedside, its wax dripping slowly down the candlestick, forming a small, dark red solid mark. Dusk had fallen outside the window, and the rustling of the bamboo leaves in the night breeze drifted through the wall like the echo of distant waves crashing against rocks.

When Li Hanshan lowered his head and kissed Shen Qingyue's lips, he could feel her lips tremble slightly the instant he touched them, like a stone thrown into water.

Her kiss was clumsy and awkward, as if she had never been treated like this before. But the moment she touched his lips, she tilted her head back slightly as if she had found some direction, responding with extreme restraint, yet with a certainty that she herself might not have fully realized.

Her hair had come loose slightly from the movement, a few strands falling to her shoulders, gleaming warmly in the candlelight. She was slightly out of breath, pausing for a few moments in front of his forehead, her gaze fixed on his face as if trying to discern something.

Li Hanshan raised his hand to brush away a stray strand of hair from her forehead, looking at her slightly flushed cheeks in the candlelight, a feeling that struck him as peculiar.

He had been with so many women in the Hehuan Sect, and had countless intimate encounters with Ye Shuanghua and Zhang Qingxuan, but the feeling of being formally married and entering the bridal chamber with the rites of husband and wife was something he was experiencing for the first time. Shen Qingyue's shyness and seriousness carried a completely different undertone from the female cultivators of the Hehuan Sect.

Her fingertips slid slowly down his shoulder, finally stopping at the edge of his robe. She hesitated for a moment, then, as if making a decision, lowered her head and gently untied the belt of his outer robe. Although her movements were still a little awkward, they were more resolute than before.

Li Hanshan sensed the earnest, almost solemn strength in her movements and reached out to encircle her waist. Her waist was slender, possessing the unique suppleness of a cultivator; it tensed slightly in his palm for a moment before relaxing, like a tamed stream. As he pulled her into his arms, her forehead rested on his shoulder, and she let out a soft sigh, as if bathed in moonlight.

The red candle burned quietly by the bedside, its wax dripping onto the candlestick, forming a small, dark red, solidified stain. A night breeze seeped in through the gaps in the window paper, causing the flames of the dragon and phoenix candles to flicker slightly before settling back into place in the air.

Shen Qingyue leaned against him, her breathing gradually becoming steady and long, like a carefully tuned ensemble entering a long aftertaste after completing the last note.

Her eyes were closed, and the tension in her shoulders and back had completely relaxed. Her fingers rested on his chest, her fingertips slightly curled, as if she was afraid he would disappear if she let go.

Li Hanshan turned his head to look at her, then looked up at the pair of burning dragon and phoenix candles on the bedside table. He could feel her cheek, pressed against his shoulder, was slightly warm, like a pebble warmed by the sun.

The night was long.

As the red candle burned out, a hazy gray-white hue appeared outside the window paper. Li Hanshan felt the breathing in his arms become steady and long; Shen Qingyue had fallen asleep in his arms. He didn't move, just lay there, gazing at the slowly brightening skylight through the window paper.