Seeking Truth with a Sword-Chapter 667 - 601: The Loser
CRACKLE! POP!
At Furong Garden’s wedding venue, the sound of fireworks echoed ceaselessly, painting the Chang’an night sky in a tapestry of purples and reds.
In a pavilion by the Qujiang Pool, a group of children darted and jostled beneath the banquet tables, undeterred by the occasional bump against a table corner—they merely rubbed their heads and continued to play.
Servers brought dish after dish, delicacies prepared by renowned chefs from far and wide. Tribute wines from across the oceans were piled in the center of the round tables, free for the taking.
"..."
Perhaps it was the surrounding clamor that was too overwhelming, but He Fanshuang silently took a White Jade Bottle, stood up from her table, and walked up to the high floor along the stairs.
The wedding of Yu Country’s most beloved Princess naturally warranted a date meticulously chosen by the Observatory. The sky was cloudless, bathed in moonlight and twinkling stars.
Not far beneath the pavilion was the green hut where the bride and groom would meet.
Looking out, not only were Song Shaoyuan and Yang Yu serving as groomsmen, but even the Crown Prince and Prince Yue stood in front of the green hut, greeting guests.
He Fanshuang expressionlessly opened the White Jade Bottle, brought it to her nose for a sniff, and involuntarily raised her eyebrows.
Well, grape juice is grape juice then.
She raised the bottle and had just taken a sip when—
"Pour me some too."
Qiu Feng approached unnoticed, holding a wine cup and mimicking He Fanshuang’s stance, leaning on the railing and gazing down at the scenery below.
He Fanshuang glanced at her. While using her Telekinesis to make the grape juice flow from the White Jade Bottle into the cup, she asked indifferently, "Aren’t you going to the green hut?"
"Aren’t you also not going?" Qiu Feng took back her wine cup, swirled the purple-red grape juice inside, and said, "The bridal procession won’t start for a while; there’s no rush."
Thus saying, she raised her glass, clinked it against He Fanshuang’s bottle, and downed the juice in one gulp.
"Having a sneaky drink without calling me, huh?"
As footsteps neared along the stairs, Ji Linglang joined them on the high floor and laughed, "Count me in."
Not having a wine bottle was hardly a problem for a Cultivator. Ji Linglang snapped her fingers, forming the shape of a wine bottle with Telekinesis, and drew some juice out for herself.
CLANG—
The White Jade Bottle, the wine cup, and the Telekinesis wine bottle knocked against each other, and the three girls quietly sipped their non-alcoholic juice, leaning against the railing.
The noisy chatter from the tent, the clinking glasses and lively conversations in the banquet hall, and the fireworks in the night sky seemed like another world, irrelevant to them.
A gust of night wind blew by, adding a touch of chill to the air.
"No, this is too depressing." Qiu Feng vigorously shook her head, setting down her wine cup with a thud on the railing and turning to He Fanshuang. "I thought you would be the one to prevail."
"I thought you would be the one to prevail," He Fanshuang replied calmly without even lifting an eyelid. "It only makes sense, right? You and he spent the most time alone at the Imperial Medical Bureau; you had the best chance."
Qiu Feng pouted and protested, "What about you? All those years of reading together in the Book Collection Pavilion, and someone still got ahead of you?"
"So, nobody was betting on me?" Ji Linglang asked, raising her hand.
"Don’t even mention yourself; you couldn’t even capitalize on your prime position," Qiu Feng gave her a sideways glance and sighed deeply. Raising her wine cup again, they clinked glasses with a light CLANG, and the three once again took a sip.
"Are you all hiding here to drink?" Sui Yi approached boldly with a wine bottle in hand. "May I join you?"
The three girls simultaneously turned their heads. Qiu Feng looked Sui Yi up and down, her eyes glinting slyly as she said, "Senior Sister, you too?"
"What do you mean, ’too’?" Sui Yi blinked in confusion before noticing the strange atmosphere. She quickly waved her hands, saying, "This has nothing to do with me! I’ll head out and not disturb you."
With that, she grabbed the tribute wine bottle and scurried down the stairs.
"Hmm..." Ji Linglang swirled the Telekinesis-formed wine bottle in her hand, thought for a moment, then suddenly laughed. "As bad as it is for us, there’s someone who has it even worse, having lost without knowing what hit her thousands of miles away."
"Ah, that’s true." Qiu Feng laughed and slapped the railing lightly. "She must be crying her eyes out right now, don’t you think?"
"Cheers!"
Thinking of Galuo’s state of mind in the distant Turkic lands, the mood of the three girls inexplicably lightened, and they clinked glasses once again.
SCRAPE!
In the camp of the Turkic Royal Court miles away, Galuo sat expressionless on a stool made from a raw log and padded with tiger skin, her hands clutching a scimitar, sharpening the blade.
SCRAPE! SCRAPE!
The scimitar scraped against the greenstone, sending bright sparks into the air.
"Little sister, come out to eat..."
Ashina Que Teqin had just lifted the tent curtain when he saw Galuo’s icy gaze. He immediately dropped the curtain, pretending he had seen nothing.
***
"Risheng? Risheng? What are you thinking about?" Yang Yu’s hushed voice called Li Ang back to his senses.
"Nothing." He shook his head at Yang Yu, returning to reality.
"Nervous, huh? Haha, I felt the same when it was my time." Song Shaoyuan thought he was just nervous and laughed. "Don’t be too stressed; it’ll be over soon."
"Mmm." Li Ang responded twice, but his thoughts were still heavy.
Something was amiss.
The court had fully learned from the previous anomaly in Chang’an and had, over the years, continuously strengthened the city’s defensive Prohibitions, diversifying their types.
The wedding venue was even more heavily guarded with numerous Cultivators and Tributes. Even the vendor selling candied hawthorns at the edge of Qujiang Pool might be a Garrison Colonel.
Even without the Mountain Master, there wouldn’t be any opportunities for Imperial assassins, let alone Zhao Ming Cultivators.
Where exactly was the problem?
The sound of drums and music signaled the auspicious time had arrived.
Li Ang suppressed the unease in his heart, patted his cheeks to focus his spirit, and stepped into the bridal tent.
Inside the tent, Li Leqing was surrounded by a bevy of Princesses and Commandery Princesses, whispering among themselves.
Seeing Li Ang appear, she gracefully stood up, lifted her skirt, and turned around, asking with a charming smile, "Do I look pretty?"
"Beautiful," Li Ang replied with a smile. His gaze inadvertently caught a glimpse of the mirror on the dressing table, and his figure froze on the spot.
He knew nothing about grand weddings and had spent the entire day preoccupied, merely following the arrangements of the protocol officials from the Great Ming Palace. Royal etiquette was complex; he had already changed outfits four or five times, and the one he currently wore was a scarlet groom’s robe.
Something is missing...
Something valuable...
Why can’t I remember...
The whispers of a past nightmare resurfaced, echoing in his mind like a great bell.
Li Ang felt a chill crawl up his spine, and he instinctively clenched his fists.
Far away in a cave in East Chang’an, the muddy form of Mo Si suddenly surged up, slapping a palm onto the surface of the Ten Thousand Spirit Book on the stone table.
Thousands of filaments formed vocal cords, and in a hoarse, piercing voice, it questioned the Ten Thousand Spirit Book, "Tell me, what have I lost under memory manipulation?!"
...
...
...
The Ten Thousand Spirit Book remained indifferent, its clean white pages void of any script.
That was enough.
The muddy mass of Mo Si closed the book; the multitude of eyes that grew on its surface revealed a chilling intent.
According to the rules of the Ten Thousand Spirit Book, it should have answered, "You lost something," or "You have not been manipulated," or at least, "You have not lost anything."
But when not even a single mark could emerge on the Ten Thousand Spirit Book, it meant that the answer to the question had surpassed what the Ten Thousand Spirit Book could fathom.
He indeed had lost something.
Something stolen by the Dream Eater.
