Liu Xiaolou had no idea how these grand dual cultivation ceremonies in noble families were supposed to work, and hardly anyone on Wulong Mountain knew either. When Wei Hongqing had been preparing to marry that young lady from the Xia family, it hadn’t been nearly so elaborate. He’d just hung a few red silk decorations in his cave residence and set out some tables with food and wine at the entrance.

So Liu Xiaolou was completely lost. Even though the steward had already explained the entire process to him in detail, once the actual ceremony started, he still couldn’t keep it straight. Fortunately, he had an expert by his side the whole time, whispering instructions at every step. All he had to do was follow them like a puppet on strings.

After the couple bowed to each other, they bowed to Heaven and Earth, then to their elders. There was shooting arrows at geese, jumping over a brazier, and finally leading his bride along a red cord into the temporary bridal room in the Gourd Hall, leaving him drenched in sweat.

Luckily, a live-in son-in-law wasn’t expected to go out and toast the guests. Everything after that was handled by the Su family, which was a huge relief. As for remembering who was who, like Steward Lin had told him to, it turned out to be useless. There were over a hundred guests, and in the middle of the ceremony, how could anyone tell them apart?

The only surprise was running into someone he actually knew. Last year, when the three sects of Zhanglong, Dongyang, and Tianmu Mountain had joined forces at Wulong Mountain to besiege the Qingyu Sect, there had been that Tigerhead Dragon who, like him, had been temporarily recruited by the Zang family.

He remembered that fellow as being a bit too familiar. Even though Liu Xiaolou hadn’t thought much of him, the guy had acted like they were close friends and even volunteered to go into the mountains with him to scout out Qingyu Sect’s defenses. They hadn’t met again since, and Liu Xiaolou had even burned incense for him, thinking he’d died. He never expected to see him turn up at his own dual cultivation ceremony today, and had no idea how he’d gotten in.

Once the door closed, the old matron and the maids withdrew, leaving only himself and his new bride in the bridal room, with the tall red candles flickering brightly.

Su Wuniang sat at the edge of the bed, the red bridal veil still covering her head. She waited for a while, but Liu Xiaolou never came over to lift it, so she asked, “What are you waiting for?”

Liu Xiaolou let out an “Oh!” and hurried to the table to fetch the jade ruyi.Picking it up, he walked carefully to the bedside and asked, “So… I should lift it now?”

“Go ahead.”

“Alright.”

He raised the veil, and at last saw Su Wuniang’s face. Her oval features glowed softly in the candlelight, and her eyes blinked beneath long lashes as she studied him.

After a moment of silent appraisal, she said, “There’s food and wine on the table. Eat if you’re hungry.”

“Alright,” he replied.

“Tonight will be like this. It’s best not to go outside. If you get tired, sleep on the floor.” She tossed the bedding from the bed into his arms. “I need to cultivate. Don’t disturb me.”

Liu Xiaolou carried the bedding to a corner, spread it out, and sat down. From there, he saw Su Wuniang seated cross-legged on the bed, a spirit stone in her hand, already beginning to draw in and transform its energy.

He didn’t dare make a sound. This so-called wife of his was in truth his employer, and a Foundation Establishment cultivator at that. Naturally, he followed her words with utmost caution.

Staring at the flickering flames on the candle stand and the wine and pastries on the table, Liu Xiaolou sat in a quiet daze for a while. He couldn’t tell if he’d been thinking about a hundred different things or nothing at all.

After a moment, he took out a spirit stone, closed his eyes, and focused his breathing, continuing his attempt to open the final acupoint on the Hand Jueyin Meridian—the Tianchong acupoint.

He sat like that until dawn.

Tok, tok, tok. Tok, tok, tok…

A knock came at the door, and Susu called from outside, “Miss, young master, it’s the end of the mao hour (around 5–7 AM). Time to wash up.”

The Gualu Hall was only a temporary bridal chamber. After washing, they would move to the SunRain Hibiscus Garden. When they arrived, Liu Xiaolou’s eyes went to the wide practice ground that took up most of the garden, the archery targets set up there, and the rows of carved beast heads on each side. He lowered his voice and asked Susu, “This is… where my wife trains?”

“One of them,” replied Susu. “Young lady. no, Madam, usually practices her techniques here. There are two other places behind the mountain that are even bigger than this.”

“What are those two rows of beast heads for?”

“They spray water. For putting out fires.”

“My wife’s main technique is fire technique?”

“Yes. Without the water beasts, she’d burn down the whole garden.”

“Her flames are really that intense?”

“Young master, let’s head inside.”

While they were talking, they reached the two-story building in the courtyard. Liu Xiaolou stepped over the threshold and saw that the furnishings inside were refined and elegant, though if asked to explain exactly how, he couldn’t put it into words.

At the center of the first floor’s main hall, Su Wuniang paused and said to Susu, “Take him to his room.” Then she went upstairs.

Xiaohuan followed upstairs, while Susu led Liu Xiaolou along a side corridor, through the central hall, and into the rear compound.

This compound was part of the two-story building, connected at the back to an open-air courtyard with a rainwater well. Around the courtyard were three rooms, with a small pool in the center where a few fish swam lazily. The layout was just like the courtyard Liu Xiaolou had lived in back in Wuchao Town, only a bit larger.

“You’ll stay in the main room on the east side, young master. Xiaohuan and I will be in the west room.” She pointed at the tall wall formed by the back of the two-story building, stuck out her tongue, and said, “That window there. That’s the mistress’s room.”

Liu Xiaolou tilted his head to look. One corner of the window lattice was propped open, but the angle made it impossible to see inside. Right now, his not-quite-official wife was probably behind that window, changing clothes.

When he stepped into his own quarters, the central space was a reception hall, with a table and chairs on either side, and two tall white porcelain vases standing in the corners. Hanging above was a plaque, with couplets on the left and right reading, “A canopy for half the changing skies” and “Three acres of hibiscus for a robe.” The horizontal inscription in the center read, Yiling Hall.

The left-side wing was the master bedroom, as expected. The right-side wing was a study, its shelves stacked with various common books one might find in the market, interspersed with small treasures like incense burners, carved seals, and paperweights. Liu Xiaolou browsed the titles, but found nothing on the Su family’s inherited techniques or secret arts. He felt a pang of disappointment. Then he thought about it. If there had been any, they would have been locked away. A temporary son-in-law on a three-year contract had no right to touch such things.

For the next three years, Yiling Hall would be his home. Liu Xiaolou stretched lazily, feeling rather satisfied.

The room had already been tidied up in advance, but Susu went in to straighten things a little more. When she came out, she said, “Young master, if there’s anything you’re not satisfied with, just tell me.”

Liu Xiaolou smiled. “I’m satisfied. Feels like a good place to cultivate in peace. Quiet too. No strangers barging in, no noise to distract me.”

Just as he said that, a sudden boom, boom and thud, thud sounded from outside. Susu pressed her lips together, smiling. “That’s the mistress practicing her blade arts.”

Curious, Liu Xiaolou walked back to the front courtyard. On the training ground, Su Wuniang had changed into a tight-fitting outfit. Blades of light flew from her hands toward the targets, bursting into blooms of flame with each strike.

His eyes lingered on her waistline, and suddenly his heart skipped a beat or two.

“Young master? Young master?” Susu called, snapping him out of it.

“What kind of blade is that?” he asked.

“The Hibiscus Throwing Knives.”

“I meant the blade itself.”

“Bone knives.”

“Bone knives?”

“They’re made from the horn-bones of a Windscale Beast.”

“Windscale Beast?”

“A high-level spirit beast. It feeds on fire and breathes fire.”

When she finished the set, Su Wuniang gathered her energy and shot him a glance. Then she told Susu, “From now on, don’t bring Husband over when I’m cultivating.”

Susu quickly lowered her head. “Yes. Young master, let’s head back.”