Suddenly, a red rope sprang from Qi Zhiyuan's body, emitting a faint red glow. It danced nimbly around him, and after just a few breaths, it wove into a bright red wedding robe.
He wore the wedding robe, his hair white as snow. The faint red light swayed with the robe, trailing on the ground like a long red carpet.
"My fellow disciple never had a decent wedding ceremony in this lifetime, even though she bore children."
"I, Qi Zhiyuan, have loved her all my life, and have been there for her all my life."
"When I was young, I could only watch helplessly as she married Zhang Zhijing, holding back my feelings, not daring to even say a word."
"And now, in my old age, I still have to watch her be abandoned, myself becoming a laughingstock, freely humiliated by a young man."
Qi Zhiyuan walked on the carpet woven from red light, stretching endlessly, undispersed for miles.
As he walked, he spoke, his voice low yet clear, so everyone could hear.
