Now fitted with a red ceremonial silk robe, Lin Ming looked less like the neglected, boy known throughout the Lin Clan and more like a nobleman preparing for a great rite of passage. The deep crimson silk, embroidered with stylized cloud patterns, contrasted sharply with his pale complexion, lending him a fragile elegance. The sleeves, subtly reinforced by the Jade Harmony Sect's artisans, flowed as he moved, making him appear taller, his shoulders broader. Yet, beneath the luxurious fabric, he was still the same Lin Ming—a spiritless vessel, utterly devoid of the precious spiritual roots that defined status in the world of cultivation. As he stood in the grand hall, the weight of the moment, and the gazes fixed upon him, felt heavy, but Lin Ming countered them as he wore a calm expression. He was marrying Su Yueru, a genius who walked the Immortal Dao, and the sheer audacity of the event was something.
The wedding ceremony was not held in the sect's traditional hall, but in a vast, temporary structure erected overnight on the sect grounds. It was a marvel of cultivation engineering. Supported by pillars of shimmering spirit wood and illuminated by floating Night Pearls that cast an ethereal glow. The air, usually stale and dry, was now subtly infused with spiritual Qi, emanating from temporary array cores laid down by the Jade Harmony Sect disciples.
The hall was packed. On the left side sat the numerous branches of the Lin Clan—the elders, the distant relatives, the cousins. Their collective mood was a tense mix of astonishment, cautious pride, and widespread envy. This was, after all, an unprecedented elevation in status. The renowned immortal sect, the Jade Harmony Sect, was bending its knee, however slightly, to a mid-tier cultivation clan, the Lin family. The elders puffed out their chests, their pride inflated by this blessing.
Among the young of the Lin Clan, no one was more venomous than Lin Ming's closest cousins. They had spent years mocking him, taking solace in their superior, albeit minor, talents. Now, the cripple, was to be bound to a woman they could only worship from afar. Their teeth were clenched so tightly, the soundless grinding could almost be heard over the rising chatter. They congratulated Lin Ming with thin, bloodless smiles, their eyes darting to the priceless ritual gifts displayed nearby—gifts that the family, and by extension, they, would benefit from. It was unbearable.
On the right side of the hall sat the delegation from the Jade Harmony Sect. They were draped in silks of icy blue and white. Their wore faces that carefully maintained neutrality. This was a political arrangement, a painful promise being kept, and their disapproval was a heavy. The Sect Elders, venerable figures with wispy beards and powerful auras, sat stiffly. Their gazes, occasionally flickering toward Lin Ming, were filled with open disgust. They saw not a groom, but a stain—a mortal cripple polluting the pure lineage of their most promising talent in centuries, Su Yueru. They had tried everything—pleas, threats, political maneuvering—but the Sect Master's vow to the Lin clan's late Great Sword Elder's was being honoured. They only wished the ceremony would end swiftly so they could wash the stench of this mortal from their robes.
A few paces behind the Elders, a figure sat in stark, agonizing isolation. Teng Chi. His aura, usually a confident, was now choppy and uneven. He had to attend, he couldn't show weakness to Su Yueru, not after that slap.
But his mind kept replaying the cavern confrontation with Su Yueru. The slap. The shear utter certainty of her rejection. And for whom? For the mortal currently standing opposite to him.
Teng Chi's fists were clenched so tight the seams of his silk gloves strained. He watched Lin Ming, his eyes narrowed to slits, scanning the mortal's form with his divine sense out of sheer habit. Still nothing. Purely mortal. The insult was profound. He, Teng Chi, the genius swordsman, had defended her honor and aspirations for years, only to be rejected in favor of a man who would be dust before she reached her prime. The jealousy was a searing, physical pain in his chest, so intense it was almost indistinguishable from a Qi deviation. He had protected her, not this cripple.
A hush fell over the great hall, as the time for the arrival of the bride had come.
A single, clear bell chimed. Then the doors at the far end of the hall began to open, slowly revealing Su Yueru.
She wore the customary bridal red. Her robes, meticulously tailored and weighted with rare jade pendants, flowed with an unnatural grace. Her hair, usually bound in a simple, severe style, was cascading down her back, held only by a single, crystalline hairpin.
Her aura was overwhelming. As she floated forward, the spiritual Qi in the hall surged toward her, swirling into faintly circling motes around her form. She looked, as Teng Chi had thought, like a snow lotus in eternal bloom—beautiful, untouchable, and utterly cold. She was the very embodiment of the Immortal Dao.
The Lin Clan gasped. The Lin cousins, who had been gritting their teeth, momentarily forgot their envy, awestruck by the sight of such transcendent beauty. Even the disgruntled Elders of the Jade Harmony Sect could not deny the sheer purity of her cultivation base and her exquisite poise. They took some solace that, even in this humiliation, their genius disciple remained impeccable.
Su Yueru stopped before Lin Ming. The contrast was stark, the vibrant cultivator and the pale, ordinary mortal. Lin Ming inhaled slowly, meeting her eyes, as he saw no warmth, no affection, but a flicker of something akin to resignation or a deeply buried commitment to duty, but he didn't care, why? He needs this marriage to begin his cultivation journey, to finally stand equals with the immortals of this planet, with the Heavenly Marriage System, that was now possible.
The Master of Ceremonies, a minor elder of the Lin Clan trembling with nervous excitement, began the ritual. This part of the ceremony, the Three Bows, was sacred. It was the moment the promise would be irrevocably sealed on the mortal plane.
"First Bow: To Heaven and Earth!"
Lin Ming and Su Yueru turned together. Lin Ming bowed low, his silk robes draping on the floor, a gesture of profound respect to the Grand Dao and the cosmos. Su Yueru's bow was shallower, performed with perfect elegant—a cultivator's acknowledgment of the cosmos as the source of power, but not as an equal master. Teng Chi watched, his heart a heavy stone in his chest.
'The promise is sealed,' he thought bitterly. 'But only in this dusty mortal domain.'
"Second Bow: To the Ancestors!"
The couple turned toward the Lin Clan ancestral tablets, temporarily placed in the center of the structure. This was the true symbolic heart of the Lin Clan's triumph. The immortal sect disciple bowed to their once mortal lineage.
"Third Bow: To the Spouse!"
Lin Ming and Su Yueru turned to face each other. This was the most intimate bow, signifying mutual respect and acceptance. Lin Ming lowered his head quickly. Su Yueru hesitated, but It was just a fractional delay, unseen by many. When she finally bowed, it was brief, precise, and utterly devoid of intimacy—a formal courtesy, no more.
"The bonds are sealed!" the Master of Ceremonies cried out . "Let the feast begin!"
The formal part of the ceremony was over, but the emotional tension in the hall was far from dissipated. The Feast was a riot of color, sound, and hidden agendas.
Cultivators sipped silently at spiritual wines, their bodies effortlessly absorbing the rare nourishment, while the mortals in attendance gorged themselves on exquisite mortal food provided by the Jade Harmony Sect.
Teng Chi stood near the edge of the hall, as a minor Elder of the Jade Harmony Sect, approached him.
"Teng Chi," she hissed, "do not despair. A mortal life is but a fleeting moment. A month, a year, a decade at best before his spirit begins to fail in the presence of Su Yueru's Dao path. He will wither. The bond will be temporary. Cultivators are bound by the Dao, not by mortal silks."
Teng Chi looked at the Elder, his eyes dark. He knew the truth of her words—Lin Ming was already living on borrowed time simply by being in the sustained proximity of a high-level cultivator. But this simple fact offered him no comfort, only the agonizing knowledge that he was waiting for a man's death to claim what he believed was his.
Meanwhile, a cluster of Lin cousins, emboldened by the potent spirit wine smuggled to them by a distant relative, gathered near Lin Ming. One, a young man named Lin Wei with a struggling Qi refining Level Three, sneered openly as he raised his wine cup.
"A toast, Cousin Lin Ming," Lin Wei slurred, his eyes red with jealousy. "To sleeping on the finest jade mats, while the rest of us sweat for a single copper coin! To marrying above your station, a woman who will undoubtedly watch you rot without a single tear!"
Afar from them, Lin Zhentian, the Lin Family Clan Patriarch, a somewhat old-looking man and a cultivator at the peak of the late Golden Core stage. He knew that, thanks to the late Great Sword Elder, their clan could now secure protection through their newfound association with the Jade Harmony Sect, a powerful sect known for its substantial number of Nascent Soul cultivators.
As everything wound down, Lin Ming quickly wore an expression of accomplishment as the familiar golden screen shimmered in front of him.
Ding!
[You have successfully bonded with Su Yueru.]
[You have successfully shared the Spiritual roots, Ability, and Physique of Su Yueru.]
[You have successfully obtained the Spiritual roots: Profound Ice Root (Legendary Grade), the Ability: Glacial Stasis Field (Legendary Grade) and the Physique: Ice Spirit Physique (Epic Grade)]