Ming Yue thought bitterly to herself. She couldn't understand why she had to possess the body of a delicate flower who had become his wife.
At that moment, the bridal chamber door suddenly opened, then closed again carelessly.
A tall, broad-shouldered figure slowly appeared and walked straight inside.
Through the red veil covering her face, the young woman caught a faint glimpse of the elegant, imposing man who had lingered only dimly in her memories.
Though she could see him only indistinctly, his thick, murky aura of murderous intent mingled with the pervasive scent of alcohol that clung to his entire body.
Yang Jian walked over and sat in the chair beside the table near the bed. He didn't touch the balance scale or the ceremonial wine, nor did he even spare his bride a glance. The longer she looked at his handsome face, the colder it seemed, as though a thousand-year-old ice that would never melt had taken hold of it.
Ming Yue lifted her veil herself with a loud rustle. She had no need to curry favor with this man. All she had to care about was the condition of her new body, surely.
The young woman rose and walked over to sit in the chair beside him. She picked up the auspicious food and ate without the slightest hesitation. She had gone hungry until her stomach ached all day. Why should she continue suffering from hunger?
In the meantime, she caught Yang Jian looking at her. He said nothing, his expression and gaze colder than ice.
He raised the wine and gulped it down.
He drank one cup after another, as if he wanted to forget some painful matter.
Of course, Ming Yue had no intention of asking even half a question. If she simply observed him carefully, she would surely find the answer soon enough, one way or another.
Still, although this man was handsome and possessed a dangerously alluring charm, his face was perpetually devoid of emotion—one might even call it utterly expressionless. Ming Yue had no way of knowing what he was thinking now. After all, she had met him only twice: before she died in the valley, and after being reborn, when she sat with him in this bridal chamber today.
He must be heartbroken over being forced into a marriage he didn't want.
Sigh. The people of the capital were all like this. What good was there in them?
All they thought about was producing heirs. They didn't care about pure love. Daughters existed to forge alliances, while sons existed to increase power.
But when a man possessed too much power, a woman had to drag him down into decline. He had to remain stuck in place—or fall even lower—in order to preserve his life.
One glance was enough to tell that this man's standards for women were sky-high. He could have married a princess, so how could he possibly be satisfied with a lowly young lady like Miss Bai?
The young woman understood completely. She gave a small shake of her head, feeling deeply sympathetic toward the man in front of her, then raised her cup to drink with him.
That was simply the nature of a martial artist like her—bold, forthright, generous, and perceptive.
And when one met a kindred spirit, even ten thousand cups of wine would not be enough to make them drunk.
Ming Yue filled Yang Jian's empty cup first, then poured one for herself, again and again.
But come to think of it, wasn't the person most deserving of pity the owner of this body?
She had been betrayed by her own family and hated by her friends. On top of that, she had been married to this man, who clearly had no desire to be her husband.
Just look at his razor-sharp gaze. It was as though he were constantly waiting for someone. It was obvious he had already given his heart to another woman—not the woman in front of him, Bai Ming Yue.
Could anything be more tragic?
Ming Yue was exceptionally perceptive when it came to people. If she hadn't been so capable, she would never have become the former leader of the Red Moon Bandit Camp, a mighty and renowned evil stronghold in the martial world that had made every other sect jealous.
Though Yang Jian appeared strong and cold on the outside, his calm, grave bearing was so noble that no one could reach him. Yet inside, he was warm and gentle, while also firm and steadfast.
Most importantly, he already had a woman in his heart.
Marrying Miss Bai was clearly a source of great sorrow to him.
Lost in thought, she drank quietly, cup after cup, sitting beside another man who kept drinking his liquor with fierce, unrestrained force.
When morning arrived, the sunlight poured down with blazing intensity.
Ming Yue stirred groggily, shifting her body back and forth. Suddenly, she felt aching soreness and sharp pain in the middle of her body.
Huh...
The young woman furrowed her brows and moved her legs again. The throbbing pain in her private area became even more pronounced. Her eyes flew open, and she abruptly sat up.
“Ow!”
The pain below grew even sharper, forcing a hoarse cry from her. She could still feel a warm, fishy liquid trickling down from her thighs.
Ming Yue pulled off the blanket and saw her naked body covered in kiss marks. Bright red drops of maiden's blood stood out against the milky-white fluid smeared across her skin.
“What?”
When she rolled her eyes forward, she saw a large, naked man lying beside her.
“Yang Jian!”