The capital of Jizhou at midnight was still brightly lit, and in celebration of Sovereign Zhuanxu's wedding, all the subjects in the capital were rejoicing, singing and dancing in the streets, creating a lively scene.
Yet, unknown to everyone, compared to the bustling exterior of the Imperial City, the innermost layer of the Imperial City was chillingly solemn.
In the reception hall, not a single person could be seen on the tables and chairs that filled the room, all abandoned and limp. Only a few monks, dressed as Buddha's sons, and a couple in festively red wedding robes remained standing at the table in the furthest back.
Zhuanxu, in his red robe, looked at Little Yue'er with a cold smirk and said, "Wu Yue'er, ever since the time of Emperor Huang, your Witch Sect has been troubling our borders. Our conflict has long been a fight to the death; did you really think I would marry you?"
"You, you…" Little Yue'er's bright eyes widened, her whole body trembling with anger.
