Ning Yuzhou composed himself and stepped into the bridal chamber.
Since the wedding followed mortal customs, the entire Seventh Prince’s Residence was decorated with lanterns and festoons, exuding a festive atmosphere. The bridal chamber, adorned in red and green, was so vividly red that it stung the eyes. This garish crimson, in the eyes of cultivators, seemed incredibly vulgar and utterly devoid of taste.
Yet, because the young lady standing amidst this vulgar red was so stunningly beautiful, her presence added a touch of ethereal charm, elevating the taste of the entire room.
When the maids in the room saw Ning Yuzhou return, they hurriedly stepped forward to bow, then, with impeccable coordination, exited the room, taking along Lian Yue, who was standing there foolishly.
Although Lian Yue didn’t want to leave, she couldn’t resist as the maids, all of whom were martial practitioners, effortlessly carried her out like she was no more than a bean sprout.
With everyone gone, the previously crowded room instantly felt spacious.
Holding a flowerpot in her arms, Wen Qiao simply looked at Ning Yuzhou without speaking.
Ning Yuzhou also looked at her, observing the girl, who had just bathed, her complexion soft and dewy, exuding a fresh and elegant charm. He gave a light cough and asked, “What’s in the flowerpot?”
“A seventh-grade spiritual herb seed. You gave it to me,” Wen Qiao replied. Then she asked, “I’d like to keep it in the room. Do you mind?”
“Of course not.” A faint smile graced Ning Yuzhou’s lips, his gentle eyes as warm as spring water, soothing and comforting. “From now on, we are husband and wife, sharing both honor and disgrace. You can do whatever you wish without asking for my permission.”
Wen Qiao’s cold expression softened significantly. After some thought, she softly said, “Thank you.”
“Why thank me?” Ning Yuzhou was puzzled, thinking she was being overly polite.
Wen Qiao replied seriously, “You are a good person. Thank you.”
If he weren’t a good person, why would he, knowing that her body was weak and her lifespan limited, still arrange for Emperor Chenghao to bestow a marriage upon them, making a grand display of sending her gifts? Whatever she needed, it was delivered promptly. While the world believed the Seventh Prince must be deeply enamored with her to care so much, Wen Qiao felt that the Seventh Prince was simply a man of deep gratitude and righteousness. Because her father had saved him in the past, he now sheltered her without complaint or regret.
In truth, this marriage didn’t need to be fulfilled. If the Ning family didn’t bring it up, who would know? Even if the Wen family knew, they wouldn’t oppose the Ning family for the sake of a frail girl with a short lifespan.
Marrying the Seventh Prince brought her many benefits. However, it seemed to bring him none, only burdening him instead.
“A good person, huh?” Ning Yuzhou chuckled again. This time, the gentle smile, warm as spring wind, carried a hint of inscrutable meaning.
Before Wen Qiao could discern it, Ning Yuzhou softly said, “It’s been a busy day. Are you tired? Why don’t you rest first?”
Wen Qiao first let out an “Mm,” then thought of something and couldn’t help but look at him.
Her clear and tranquil eyes, when fixed on someone, could strip away even the most cunning schemes, leaving them bare. A faint blush appeared on Ning Yuzhou’s handsome face. He lightly coughed again and retreated to the adjacent room to wash and bathe.
While the Seventh Prince was away, Wen Qiao sat cross-legged on the luohan bed in the bridal chamber, placing the flowerpot beside her and beginning her cultivation.
As usual, she channeled some Yuan Spiritual Power into the spiritual herb seed in the flowerpot. She expected it to remain as lifeless as it had for the past month. However, not long after she infused it with Yuan Spiritual Power, she felt a foreign emotion—confused, joyful, and curious about the world.
Wen Qiao’s fingers paused for a moment but did not stop. Instead, she intensified the infusion of Yuan Spiritual Power.
She continued until her Yuan Spiritual Power was completely depleted. Her face grew paler, her forehead was covered in sweat, her spiritual aperture throbbed with pain, and her entire body felt uncomfortable. Yet, this discomfort was overshadowed by the joy welling up in her heart.
Wen Qiao stared joyfully at the flowerpot.
From the dark brown soil emerged a tiny green sprout, so small it could easily be overlooked if one wasn’t paying attention.
The seventh-grade spiritual herb seed had finally sprouted.
The moment it sprouted, information about the seventh-grade spiritual herb seed flowed back to her, revealing its species. It turned out to be the Zhuyan Flower, a plant long thought extinct in the cultivation world.
The Zhuyan Flower can be used to refine Zhuyan Pills or consumed directly, making it a type of spiritual herb that drives female cultivators wild with desire.
Although Zhuyan Pills still exist on Sacred Martial Continent, they have only been produced after the Zhuyan Flower’s extinction. Through countless experiments, alchemists replaced it with other materials, resulting in subpar effects. Worse, consuming these pills often left minor defects, and their anti-aging effects were far inferior to those of pills refined directly from the Zhuyan Flower.
While Wen Qiao felt she might not need the Zhuyan Flower herself, the robust essence of this extinct seventh-grade herb brought her great joy. She wasn’t disappointed by it at all.
After admiring the tiny green sprout emerging from the soil for a while, Wen Qiao quickly refocused her mind and began meditating to restore her Yuan Spiritual Power.
Once she started meditating, she lost track of time.
By the time her spiritual aperture was once again full of Yuan Spiritual Power, the night outside had deepened.
When Wen Qiao opened her eyes, she saw a man sitting not far away. He wore a moon-white robe embroidered with dark gold patterns, and his long black hair cascaded down his back, framing a face so handsome it could be described as flawless.
He sat there quietly, his eyes fixed on her without blinking. When he saw her open her eyes, he gave her a gentle smile.
Even someone as calm as Wen Qiao was momentarily stunned.
Although her cultivation level wasn’t high and her experience was limited, for a living, unfamiliar person to sit near her and stare at her without her noticing—it couldn’t just be because she was too focused on her cultivation.
The newly-of-age girl, still carrying traces of baby fat on her youthful face, sat there in her nightclothes, appearing small and tender. Her innocence and vulnerability stirred a natural sense of protectiveness in others.
Ning Yuzhou’s heart softened. Seeing her gaze at him silently, he smiled and said, “It’s the fourth watch already. Would you like to rest?”
Wen Qiao nodded and slowly climbed off the luohan bed.
Ning Yuzhou rose as well and naturally stepped forward to support her.
Wen Qiao’s fingertips trembled slightly. She glanced at him, meeting his warm and gentle gaze. Unable to voice her refusal, she softly asked, “Why haven’t you gone to rest yet?”
“I saw you meditating here, so I wanted to take a look.”
Wen Qiao froze, unable to resist looking at him again.
The Seventh Prince had once possessed an exceptional Yuan Spiritual Root. If he had been able to cultivate, his accomplishments would surely rival those of the Third Prince, Ning Zhezhou. Unfortunately, he was poisoned at birth, which damaged his Yuan Spiritual Root, leaving him a mere mortal and cutting him off from the path of cultivation. What a pity.
If he had been born an ordinary mortal, it wouldn’t have mattered. But to be born in Dongling Kingdom, where everyone around him was a cultivator, and to be the only “waste” unable to cultivate—wouldn’t that leave him feeling bitter?
Would he feel distressed watching others pursue the endless path of cultivation while he could only stand still?
Wen Qiao couldn’t discern his thoughts from his refined and handsome face. If she were to guess based on ordinary human nature, she would assume he must feel some anguish.
“I’m not upset,” Ning Yuzhou said.
Wen Qiao looked at him in surprise.
Ning Yuzhou helped her sit on the bed, smiling as he explained, “Your thoughts are written all over your face. It’s easy to tell.”
Wen Qiao nearly reached up to touch her face. No one had ever said such a thing to her before.
Ning Yuzhou casually moved the flowerpot to the windowsill and continued, “I don’t feel upset. If you wish to cultivate, then cultivate. I won’t stop you. If you need any cultivation resources, just tell me. Since we are now husband and wife, I won’t hinder your martial path.”
Wen Qiao stared at him in even greater astonishment.
Ning Yuzhou smiled faintly. “May I call you Ah Chuo?”
“Ah, sure,” she replied, somewhat dazed.
“Ah Chuo, it’s late. You should rest,” Ning Yuzhou said gently. “Tonight is our wedding night. We can’t just let it pass like this. Your body can’t handle such neglect.”
Wen Qiao’s pale face flushed faintly as her gaze fell on the bed covered with bright red bedding embroidered with mandarin ducks and phoenixes. Suddenly, she felt a wave of nervousness.
She lay down on the bed nervously, watching Ning Yuzhou pull down the bed curtains and lie beside her, fully clothed.
For the first time in her life, she was sharing a bed with someone. She could almost feel his breath in the air between them, her hands and feet stiff and unsure where to place them.
“Sleep,” Ning Yuzhou said.
Wen Qiao responded with a quiet “Mm” and closed her eyes.
The room was filled with a faint fragrance of some kind of incense—light and delicate, not overwhelming. Wen Qiao initially thought she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, that she’d feel uneasy with a stranger lying beside her. Yet, inhaling the subtle spiritual fragrance, she gradually drifted into sleep.
Before she fell asleep, a thought lingered in her mind: The Seventh Prince is truly a good person. I must ask him tomorrow what kind of spiritual incense is burning in the room.
Once her breathing became long and even, Ning Yuzhou turned his head slightly to glance at the girl curled up neatly beside him.
His gaze swept across her delicate, youthful face, and a faint, silent smile appeared on his lips.
Still just a child—it’s too early for anything.