Chapter 9 – Banter then the Altar

Exhausted, Qin Yun wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. His fatigue was more mental than physical; unexpected events had disrupted his routine. However, first he had to fulfill obligations: the repairs Steward He had requested for his wedding.

Hours slipped by as he inspected every detail, only to discover a whole column was beyond saving. Replacing it alone would steal nearly a week from him.

Anxiety crept in—now he had even less time to ready himself for his own wedding than he’d feared.

Over the next two weeks, Qin Yun did the best that he could with the time he had. His morning routine remained the same, waking up at the crack of dawn to train and practice, then spending most of his time carving a ten-foot supporting column, all of which had to be replicated by hand to replace the one that had begun rotting away, only to be left with the evenings to work on his own abode.

He knew his soon-to-be wife would never be charmed by his humble storehouse. It suited him, but no self-respecting woman—princess or not—would tolerate such a place.

Only after wrestling with repairs did Qin Yun admit defeat. The place was beyond saving; better to tear it down and start fresh than waste another moment patching ruins.

He simply didn’t have enough time.

And just like that, two weeks vanished before he could catch his breath.

***

“Are you nervous?” Qin Meihui, Qin Yun’s cousin, asked as she helped him dress up.

His wedding was merely a few hours away, and by the time the sun set, he would be a married man.

“Not particularly,” Qin Yun replied, composed as he slipped on a red overcoat, the traditional male wedding garb.

The bulky clothes, layered and increasingly intricate, restricted Qin Yun so much that he could hardly move. The problem wasn’t weight—he’d trained with chains heavier than this—but sheer size. He couldn’t even dress himself.

He couldn’t help but wonder how his bride fared on her end, for her own situation should be quite similar.

Usually, a family member would be the one to help the groom clothe himself, but Qin Yun had yet to hear from any of them. He didn’t even know if they would be present for his wedding.

Qin Yun assumed that his father, considering his position, would at least show his face, but as he didn’t even bother to call on Qin Yun in the two weeks since he had been informed of the wedding date, Qin Yun could only assume the man didn’t care.

He wondered what his mother ever saw in such a cold man.

Qin Yun didn’t expect his stepmother or half-siblings to be there. Their relationships were complicated, and he knew better than to force something unwanted. After all, they had made it clear he wasn’t one of them, and he couldn’t blame them.

This was all his father’s fault, that he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

As such, Qin Meihui had to step up. It wouldn’t do for the groom to be alone on such an auspicious day.

“How dull,” she replied. “I would have liked to see you flustered for once.”

“Better luck next time,” Qin Yun chuckled.

Though this was far from his first wedding, Qin Yun found himself, beneath his calm mask, almost eager. Two weeks had worn away his resistance, leaving only a spark of curiosity.

He caught himself wondering what sort of bride fate—or his family—had chosen this time.

“Any news from the bride’s side?” he asked.

“I’ve been told they’ve just arrived. Grandfather should be there to greet them.”

“Greeted by the Patriarch himself?” Qin Yun frowned. “I know this wedding is important for the clan, but does this warrant the Patriarch to go himself?”

“I’m told the Cloud Emperor’s younger brother was aboard that flying ship. Considering who we’re dealing with, Grandfather had no choice.”

“His younger brother… So the bride’s uncle also came. Is that why they are a day late?”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Indeed, their arrival was scheduled for yesterday, giving them a chance to prepare for the wedding, but apparently, Yun Mingzhen forced his way aboard, delaying them by a day. They couldn’t have such a prominent member of the Imperial Family travel without the appropriate escort, so it took some time to arrange it. At least, that’s how the story goes.”

Qin Meihui shrugged, unconcerned. Those with power were often willful or moody.

Still, Qin Yun couldn’t help but think there was a deep reason for this Yun Mingzhen to go as far as he did to come to this wedding.

As far as he knew, he wasn’t especially close with the bride.

Did something change?

There was no point thinking about it now; he could only keep it in the back of his mind. Sooner or later, he would face the man and uncover his motive at his leisure.

Now, his curiosity about his future wife eclipsed everything else.

“Speaking of the bride, knowing you, you couldn’t keep your curiosity in check and went to see her. How was she?”

“Hmph! I know you,” she replied. “You just want to know if it’s true that she is as pretty as the moon, the most beautiful of the Emperor’s daughters. Well, too bad for you. She wore her veil the entire time, so I couldn’t get a good look at her face.”

“Stop projecting,” Qin Yun laughed. “You’re the one who wanted to see her face. Two days ago, you barged into my place just to show me her portrait, remember? A shame that that portrait was one from five years ago, when she just turned fifteen and was sent to the sect. Though I’m curious to know how much she has grown since then.”

“Her chest, you mean?” Meihui replied, but there seemed to be a hint of venom in her words, masking her self-consciousness with teasing. “Rest assured. Even through her wedding dress, I could tell she’s become even more of a woman. Lucky you.”

“Jealous, are we?” Qin Yun said, showing a look of pity. “Don’t worry. You aren’t so bad yourself. Some men do have that fetish. You are bound to find one, eventually… maybe.”

Qin Meihui was by no means impoverished in that area, but she had always compared herself to her own mother, who was rather blessed. Even her younger sister, a few years younger, seemed to be growing in that direction, while she had long stopped growing herself.

It had become a sore spot, one Qin Yun couldn’t resist poking from time to time.