The Grand Wedding Is About to Be Held

“Shen. Qing. Shuang!”

Ye Jiuhuang’s voice seemed to be squeezed out of the depths of the Nine Nether Hells, laden with boundless venom and killing intent.

Seeing Ye Jiuhuang’s face twist with extreme rage, Shen Qingshuang felt an unprecedented thrill of revenge rise within her.

Not only was she not the least bit afraid, she pressed herself even more tightly into Ye Xuan’s embrace.

Shen Qingshuang lifted her chin slightly and held up the bloodstained handkerchief in her hand. Looking at Ye Jiuhuang, her lips curved into an icy, deeply mocking smile.

“My husband... oh, no. Ye Jiuhuang.”

Shen Qingshuang deliberately emphasized the words “my husband,” before changing her form of address with utmost disdain.

“Now that I have offered my first time to Master, I’m terribly sorry to have beaten you to it.”

“You keep claiming that you endured humiliation for the sake of the Sword God Palace. So why is it that, even when it comes to climbing into his bed, you’ve fallen behind a mere bedchamber maid?”

Ye Jiuhuang instantly flew into a towering rage.

Once, Shen Qingshuang had been her wife in name—the Sect Master’s Wife recognized by the entirety of the Sword God Palace.

And now, this “wife,” who had once obeyed her every word, had not only climbed into the bed of the man who had crushed her dignity beneath his feet, but was even waving a handkerchief stained with her maiden’s blood before her, mocking her—the “legitimate wife,” who had not even offered up her body.

“You vile woman!”

Ye Jiuhuang completely lost control!

Her eyes turned blood-red in an instant, her hair whipping wildly about her as the terrifying sword intent of a peak True Immortal erupted. It swept through the hall like a storm of death.

“I’ll kill you, you shameless whore!”

Roaring, Ye Jiuhuang formed a sword with her fingers. A dazzling, terrifying blade of sword light capable of cleaving apart the stars condensed at her fingertips and slashed viciously toward Shen Qingshuang’s brow.

That strike contained all of Ye Jiuhuang’s humiliation and murderous intent. She wanted this wretch who had cuckolded her to be annihilated in body and soul!

Faced with that heaven-destroying strike, Shen Qingshuang did not evade.

She merely looked coldly at Ye Jiuhuang. She even closed her eyes, a smile of liberation on her lips.

If she could die at the height of Ye Jiuhuang’s fury, then her revenge would be complete.

And yet—

“Clang!”

A crisp sound echoed through the hall.

The terrifying sword light, powerful enough to slay even a Great Vehicle cultivator, came to an abrupt halt less than half an inch from Shen Qingshuang’s brow.

Ye Xuan had merely extended two fingers, casually pinching Ye Jiuhuang’s world-destroying sword strike between them.

There was no warmth in his deep eyes as he cast Ye Jiuhuang a cold glance.

With that glance alone, the sword intent Ye Jiuhuang had summoned throughout the hall instantly crumbled. It was as though an ancient divine mountain had slammed into her chest. She let out a muffled groan and staggered back more than a dozen steps, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth.

Ye Jiuhuang instantly regained her senses. Seeing the icy look in Ye Xuan’s eyes, she trembled all over and hurriedly dropped to her knees. Yet her gaze still bored viciously into Shen Qingshuang.

“That bitch, she—”

“Why are you so angry?”

Ye Xuan casually released his fingers, his long, slender knuckles lightly toying with Shen Qingshuang’s silky hair. His voice carried a lazy, lofty authority.

“She is nothing more than a bedchamber maid—a tool for venting desire and warming the bed.”

Ye Xuan looked at Ye Jiuhuang, who was kneeling on the floor. The corners of his lips curled into a wicked smile brimming with charm and control.

“But you... you are the wife I have personally acknowledged.”

At those words, Shen Qingshuang’s entire body stiffened. The satisfaction of revenge that had filled her moments ago instantly froze, replaced by the desolation of being discarded as casually as a used rag.

As for Ye Jiuhuang, the fury and humiliation in her eyes vanished without a trace the instant she heard the words, “you are my wife.”

In their place came an almost pathological ecstasy, along with overwhelmed, flattered disbelief.

“Husband... Y-you mean it?” Ye Jiuhuang raised her head in disbelief. Her peerlessly beautiful, icy face was now filled with fawning excitement. Not a trace remained of the pride once possessed by the First Sword Emperor.

“Of course.”

Ye Xuan replied indifferently, “Our wedding will be held soon. When the time comes, I will announce it to the heavens and all worlds: you, Ye Jiuhuang, shall be my one and only Empress.”

“And as for her...” Ye Xuan casually pinched Shen Qingshuang’s pale cheek. “She is merely a maid trying out the bed in advance. As the Empress, why lower yourself by squabbling with a servant?”

“Yes! Yes, it was Jiuhuang who was narrow-minded! Thank you for your grace, Master! Thank you, Husband!”

Ye Jiuhuang trembled with excitement as she climbed to her feet. She completely ignored Shen Qingshuang, who sat naked upon the bed, her face drained of all color. Instead, she eagerly moved closer to the bedside in an utterly sycophantic manner.

“Husband, since our wedding is to be held soon, where should the ceremony take place? Should we pave the way with Nine Heavens Star River Stone? And those sects that are too blind to submit—Jiuhuang will go tomorrow and slaughter them all, using their blood to lay out a red carpet for you. What do you think?”

Ye Jiuhuang chattered incessantly about the details of the wedding, her eyes gleaming with cruel excitement. She had become utterly immersed in the vanity and power granted by the title of “Empress,” thoroughly transforming into a madwoman completely tamed by Ye Xuan.

“Such trifles are for you to decide. Withdraw. I wish to rest.”

Ye Xuan waved a hand.

“Yes, Husband. Rest well. Jiuhuang shall take her leave! I will immediately begin preparing the grandest wedding in all the heavens!”

With a radiant face, Ye Jiuhuang withdrew from the hall. Before leaving, she even cast Shen Qingshuang a contemptuous glance—the haughty look of a victor—as if to say: See? Even after offering up your body, you are still fit only to be a lowly bedchamber servant!

Bang.

The doors of the bedchamber closed once again.

A deathly silence fell over the hall.

Shen Qingshuang sat blankly upon the dragon bed like a puppet that had lost its soul.

Watching Ye Jiuhuang’s excited yet servile retreating figure, her eyes gradually reddened. At last, great tears spilled uncontrollably down her cheeks.

She had lost.

Lost utterly and completely. Even the last remnants of her dignity had been trampled into the dust.

She had thought that sacrificing her purity for revenge would make Ye Jiuhuang suffer—that it would awaken the Sword Emperor who had once been so proud.

But reality was that Ye Jiuhuang simply did not care!

In Ye Jiuhuang’s heart, so-called love, honor, even the “wife” she had once been, meant less than the title of “Empress” casually bestowed by Ye Xuan!

Shen Qingshuang bit down hard on her lips until they bled. She did not cry out, yet the silent anguish and despair she radiated were more suffocating than any shrill scream.

As he looked at the woman in his arms—her Dao Heart utterly shattered, her despair having reached its depths—

Ye Xuan felt not the slightest sympathy. His gaze remained like a pool of stagnant water: calm and merciless.

Slowly, he lifted a hand. His long fingers gently stroked Shen Qingshuang’s frail back, trembling violently with pain, as though he were petting a pitiful stray cat.

A long sigh, laden with endless mockery and a profound understanding of the coldness of the world, slowly echoed through the vast, lavish bedchamber.

“Don’t cry anymore.”

“Falling in love with her was a mistake from the very beginning.”