Wandering Swordsman |

Before the words had even finished, everyone turned to look at the entrance. There stood Sect Leader Yang, his face contorted with rage, eyes wide, followed by several stern-looking disciples of the Myriad Swords Sect. He strode across the threshold, a gust of icy wind rushing in, instantly lowering the temperature of the once warm hall.

He Yun's heart tightened. He put down his wine bowl, stood up, and looked at Headmaster Yang with a firm gaze. The atmosphere in the hall immediately became tense. The cheerful laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by silence.

Several masters, including Ouyang Song, stood up and stepped forward to try to ease the situation. He Quanying frowned slightly, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. He gently patted his son's shoulder, signaling him to calm down.

"Brother Yang, please calm down," Ouyang Song's voice was calm and gentle. "It was indeed our oversight that we failed to inform your sect in time. It was truly unavoidable. Please forgive us."

Sect Leader Yang's gaze swept over everyone, finally settling on He Yun. His eyes held both anger and confusion as he replied to Ouyang Song, "Hero Ouyang, everyone in the martial world knows that the people of Sword Tomb are the most trustworthy. You only agreed to marry my daughter a while ago. Now you've gone ahead with the wedding." His voice was deep and powerful, each word striking like a heavy blow to everyone's heart.

Ouyang Song took a deep breath, met Sect Leader Yang's gaze, and said in a firm and sincere voice, "Brother Yang, we did not mean to slight your sect. It's just that fate is sometimes unpredictable. I hope you can understand our situation and give us a chance to explain."

At that moment, the cold wind howled outside, as if cheering on the sudden conflict. The lights in the hall flickered in the wind, illuminating the tense or worried faces of everyone present. Time seemed to freeze, and all eyes were focused on the two leaders, awaiting how things would unfold.

Sect Leader Yang's gaze remained sharp. The hall was so quiet that only the sound of the wind and heartbeats could be heard, making each second of silence feel exceptionally long. Finally, Sect Leader Yang slowly nodded, his tone softening slightly: "Since that's the case, then I'll see if your explanation makes sense."

Seeing his master, Ouyang Song, so obsequious, the drunken He Yun felt a surge of anger. He abruptly stood up, his steps unsteady, but his eyes were unusually firm: "Uh! Sect Leader Yang. As the person directly involved, I knew absolutely nothing about this marriage to your daughter. May I ask what brings you here, Sect Leader Yang?"

Seeing this, Madam Pei immediately stepped forward to help He Yun, trying to ease the situation. She said softly to He Yun, "Yun'er, it seems you've had too much to drink. Mother will take you to the inner hall to rest." Her movements were gentle yet firm, attempting to lead He Yun away from this sensitive occasion.

Sect Leader Yang's face turned ashen, and he angrily retorted, "You, He Yun! Marriage is a matter of parental decision, how dare you, a junior, speak here!" His voice echoed in the hall, carrying an unquestionable authority.

He Yun, who was being helped away by Pei Shi, turned around abruptly after hearing this, fueled by alcohol, his eyes gleaming with a stubborn light: "Today is an auspicious day for our wedding, and I don't want Headmaster Yang to make things difficult for Sword Tomb. If Headmaster Yang insists on demanding an explanation..." He paused, his voice suddenly becoming clear and firm, "Then I would like to trouble Headmaster Yang to bring his daughter as well, so that we can hold the wedding ceremony together right now. His daughter can be a secondary wife, not a concubine."

The cold wind howled outside, seemingly cheering on the sudden argument. The lamplight flickered in the wind, illuminating the tense or surprised faces of everyone. He Yun's voice stood out clearly in the shadows, each word ringing with conviction: "Although this matter wasn't decided by me, it was still something Sword Tomb promised, and Sword Tomb will definitely keep its word!"

When Pei heard her son say this, she felt both anxious and helpless. She quickened her pace and almost dragged He Yun towards the inner hall: "Yun'er, you're drunk!" Her voice carried a hint of reproach, but she couldn't hide her worry.

......

The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight streamed into the room through the window, He Yun slowly opened his eyes, only to find himself lying on the floor, still carrying the fatigue and smell of alcohol from the previous night. He groggily sat up, looked around, and realized he was in his bridal chamber. The room was still decorated warmly and festively; although the red candles had been extinguished, a faint fragrance still lingered in the air.

He Yun rubbed his sleepy eyes, trying to recall everything that had happened last night. However, his memory was like a broken string of beads, fragmented and difficult to piece together. He only remembered going to the table to drink after the wedding ceremony, and being urged to drink by his fellow disciples, he drank one cup after another. After that, everything was like a fog, and he couldn't remember anything at all.

Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to a scene beside the bed—two women, their heads covered with red veils, sat on either side. They sat there quietly, as if time had stood still. He Yun was startled and quickly rubbed his eyes, thinking he was still drunk. However, when he opened his eyes again, he still saw the two brides sitting steadily on either side of the bed.

He Yun's heart suddenly raced, and a strange sense of tension welled up inside him. He carefully stood up and walked slowly toward the two brides, each step feeling exceptionally heavy. When he reached the bedside, he took a deep breath and simultaneously lifted the veils of both brides with both hands.

Seated to the left was Zhao Xue, her eyes filled with a hint of a smile and concern; while to the right was a stranger to He Yun, her face delicate, her eyes revealing a touch of shyness and unease. He Yun looked at Zhao Xue in surprise, his voice trembling slightly: "Xue, who is she?"

Zhao Xue chuckled softly, a sly glint in her eyes: "Brother Yun, don't you know that yourself?"

He Yun immediately asked, his voice tinged with urgency and confusion, "Ah Xue? What do you think I know?"

Zhao Xue sighed softly, a hint of helplessness in her eyes, and replied, "After the wedding ceremony last night, I waited in the room for a long time before I heard footsteps and sat down by the bed. I kept thinking it was you, Brother Yun, but I only realized it was this young lady now."

She turned her head slightly and saw Yang Muran sitting on the other side: "As a result, I've been sitting here all night, and I still haven't been able to wait for you to lift my red veil."

He Yun's heart tightened, and he quickly interrupted, "Wait, Xue, I've never seen this young lady before either. Let's ask her what's going on." He turned to face Yang Muruan, his eyes filled with doubt.

Before Zhao Xue could even ask, the young woman—Yang Muruan—slowly raised her head, her eyes glistening with tears, her voice soft and filled with expectation: "Brother Yun, do you really not remember your little sister?"