Chapter 10 – Yun Mingzhen, Cloud Imperial Grand Duke

The ceremony unfolded nothing like Qin Yun had imagined. Tradition called for the grand Main Hall, yet today its doors remained shut. Instead, the gathering took place in a modest side hall near the clan’s entrance, a choice that felt oddly out of place.

While the location made life easier for the servants, sparing them the trek up the rocky ascent, Qin Yun couldn’t shake the strangeness of it all. The elders, notorious for their love of spectacle, rarely missed a chance to flaunt their wealth.

Given such an illustrious guest list, the decision to avoid the Main Hall felt all the more baffling—an odd note signalling the start of an unusual day.

There was a representative from each of the three clans that ruled this city alongside the Qin Clan,

The first, and most important, was an elder from the City Lord Manor. Their ancestor was said to have been alive in the same era as the Qin Clan’s ancestor. They were even sworn brothers and, after travelling together for some time, they founded Jin City together over a thousand years ago, rooting their respective families in this land.

Being somewhat more lackadaisical than his counterpart, the Qin Clan’s ancestor left all the administrative duties to his friend, giving rise to the City Lord Manor.

To this day, both families remain rather close, even as their ancestors have already left for who knows where. They had their ups and downs, their share of conflicts over the years, but they were on cordial enough terms to invite one of their higher-ups to a wedding.

Years later, when the city was beginning to take shape and bloom, another clan joined them in this endeavour: the Lin Clan. They were merchants by trade, and through their combined efforts, the city’s expansion exploded, becoming a hub of commerce between warring empires.

Of course, many people eyed such a jewel, especially the empires. They tried, time and again, to take it for themselves. Even the two ancestors, aided by their family and now the Lin Clan, could hardly resist their expansionist ambition.

To remedy this, they called upon the last of the four clans: a band of roaming mercenaries whose strength and military might was already feared for their time. Even the three empires had to tread lightly around them, lest their own military suffer a blow that could shift the tides of power, leaving them exposed to a counterattack from the other empires.

In reward for their service, the Ma Clan was granted a home to call their own, something they had wanted most of all.

Amidst the shifting expectations, Qin Yun noted that each clan, including the three ruling clans of the city, had sent high elders and members of the younger generation, all seated together to witness the ceremony.

“… Yun… Qin Yun.”

A voice called his name, snapping him out of his thoughts and pulling him back to the ceremony now underway.

“Pardon?” he said absentmindedly.

“Pay attention. Were you even listening?”

The man speaking to him was an elder from the clan, chosen to officiate this union. They stood on a small altar, the bride facing him, with the invitees to their sides, while the old man dressed in pure white stared him down, looking rather uncomfortable with Qin Yun’s current disinterest in his own situation.

It was plain to see that Qin Yun’s mind was elsewhere, but neither the audience nor the bride herself seemed to care.

For her part, her head remained lowered, veil draped over her face. Even now, Qin Yun had yet to see the visage of his bride-to-be. He expected someone born a royal to be more assertive in their demeanour, yet it couldn’t be further from the truth.

To Qin Yun, she resembled a frightened creature, her back hunched, shoulders curled inward, hands tightly clasped and hidden within her flowing red sleeves, as if seeking comfort from her own touch.

Though swathed from head to toe, not a hint of skin revealed, Qin Yun could still discern her frailty through the fabric—she was little more than skin stretched over bone, her thinness almost alarming.

This went far beyond the usual pursuit of slenderness. She was unmistakably malnourished, yet not a soul in the audience—not even her own escort—seemed to notice or care.

No one, that is, except Yun Mingzhen. While the rest lost themselves in drink and idle chatter, he alone watched her with a flicker of concern—a subtle contrast against the indifference around them.

“I wasn’t,” Qin Yun said bluntly. “But, nobody seems to care.”

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Qin Yun shrugged in response, only for the old elder to show a helpless look.

This was far from what Qin Yun had expected his wedding to be like. Given how they were treating this event, he couldn’t decide whether this union was important to the clan.

There were mixed signals everywhere.

In Qin Yun’s eyes, Yun Mingzhen was the only one taking things seriously. The man was impressive—calm amid the charade swirling around them, with an expression and posture betraying nothing. Others tried to draw Yun Mingzhen into conversation, but he deflected them with quiet courtesy, eyes unwavering, fixed on the bride and, by extension, Qin Yun.

He seemed to be observing him closely.

Maybe he is closer to the bride than rumours seem to indicate? Qin Yun couldn’t help but think.

As for his strength, while what Qin Yun could see was limited, he estimated that Yun Mingzhen was at least at the level of the senior elder of the Qin Clan. He may even be able to rival the Golden Frost.

Ordinarily, a master of his stature joining an escort would signal the utmost importance. Yet, once again, Qin Yun was left puzzled—the rest of the escort was woefully inadequate.

Most of the guards chosen by the Cloud Imperial Palace were mere Foundation Building novices. Yun Meihui could easily dispatch them all on her own were she inclined. Only their leader, an old woman nearing death, would prove a challenge, being one realm higher, a Void Core Practitioner.

Such a paltry guard hardly befitted an imperial princess.

Did they not value her? What was the point of this wedding, then?

Questions crowded Qin Yun’s mind, making it impossible to focus on the ceremony. Even his bride seemed uninterested in humouring the old man, who struggled to keep the charade moving.