In the early morning, the Frost Cloud Pavilion was bustling with activity.
Bright red lanterns swung gently in the breeze, strung across the spacious courtyard and bridal hall. Crimson curtains, golden tassels, and fragrant petals lined the path where two brides would walk.
Inside a secluded bridal room, Chu Yao sat before a polished bronze mirror.
Dressed in a lavish red bridal gown, her hair adorned with gold phoenix pins and rubies, she looked stunning.
Her lips curled into a cruel smirk.
"Mother… today, I will marry the Holy Son Wu Ming," she whispered to the mirror, "and free that bitch from her shackles—leaving her with nothing."
"Hehehe…" A soft, sinister chuckle escaped her lips.
Meanwhile, in the opposite wing of the sect, inside another elegant room, Mu Meilin stood before her own wedding dress.
Her heart throbbed with anticipation. Today, she would finally become Wu Ming's woman in the eyes of the world.
Mu Meilin, the cherished daughter of the Azure Dragon Sect's Grand Elder, had fallen for Wu Ming the first time they met.
He had come to her father's peak to be accepted as a personal disciple.
Back then, he was only sixteen.
Even at that young age, Wu Ming radiated calm maturity.
His presence was like that of a seasoned cultivator, not some fresh-faced youth.
Later, she found that he wasn't just a beautiful face. Wu Ming trained with fanatic determination, surpassing even her in cultivation within a few years.
He became the sect's Holy Son, chosen by the heavens and backed by the sect's full support.
Then came the truth—he wasn't a mere disciple. He was on a trial journey, sent by a powerful ancient clan.
If he passed the tribulations, he would return to his clan and stand as a candidate for the next family head.
From that day, Meilin tightened the bond between them.
She didn't know when her love for him became so overwhelming, so possessive.
But now, she couldn't go a single day without seeing him. She had offered him her body and soul long ago.
He became her everything.
She had once confessed her love. To her surprise, Wu Ming had accepted it, though hesitantly—because she was his master's daughter.
But that didn't stop what blossomed between them.
They became one. Every night she moaned his name, her legs spread wide for his cock, his name etched into her soul. Her heart, her womanhood, her very breath belonged to him.
And now…
That dream was finally about to be fulfilled.
Just one step forward, and she would be his forever—even if she ended up nothing more than a cum dumpster beneath his towering shadow, even if she shared him with another.
She closed her eyes and clutched the fabric of her dress to her chest, breath shaking.
But as she exhaled, her expression shifted—serene longing gave way to fierce resolve.
"Chu Yao," she whispered, opening her eyes, now cold and sharp as blades. "I know you'll be his concubine too. But don't you dare manipulate him. Don't try to twist his heart or take what isn't yours."
"If you do…" Her nails dug deep into her palm, drawing blood. She stared at the red blood with narrowed eyes.
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The sunlights spread over the Frost Cloud Pavilion, casting golden light over a courtyard covered in red.
Drums boomed, horns echoed, and petals rained like snowflakes.
The wedding had begun.
All eyes turned forward when the ceremonial bell tolled thrice.
From the twin bridal halls, two breathtaking women emerged in crimson robes.
Chu Yao walked with regal elegance, her blood-red veil fluttering slightly as she approached.
Opposite her, Mu Meilin radiated gentle pride. Her face was hidden beneath sheer silk, but the confident sway of her thick ass betrayed her joy.
And then, from above, descending like a dragon in mortal form, came Wu Ming.
His azure robes shimmered with heavenly light, embroidered with golden dragon coils.
He stepped forward.
The crowd grew silent.
First, the ceremonial rites.
"First bow—to the Heavens and Ancestors!"
Wu Ming, Chu Yao, and Mu Meilin bowed deeply.
"Second bow—to the parents."
Only Chu Yao and Wu Ming turned toward Matriarch Chu Ying, bowing in tandem. Meilin stood motionless, watching.
Chu Ying gave a soft nod, her eyes flickering between the two women.
"Third bow—husband and wife bow to each other."
All three—Wu Ming, Chu Yao, and Mu Meilin—faced one another.
Then, together, they bowed.
Two veiled beauties. One Holy Son.
Three fates entwined.
But just as the final bow ended—
BOOM!
A sinister, deafening wave of demonic qi erupted.
The sky darkened. Crimson petals froze mid-air.
A vile pressure surged through the wedding hall, cultivators across the Frost Cloud Pavilion instinctively reached for their weapons.
Barrier formations flared. Alarm bells rang.
Wu Ming's aura flared, shielding his brides.
"That's not natural," he muttered. "That... That's the demonic aura. Something—or someone—is watching ?"
" Are they coming from upper realms and all of this...just for me?"
He was well aware of the energy from upper realm. He was sure it was from that place.
Besides him,
Mu Meilin gripped his arm tightly, trembling.
Chu Yao, however, did not flinch. Her crimson veil fluttered in the wind, revealing the corner of a faint, icy smile.
"It's here… just as expected."
All the cultivators present now fully guarded.
They prepared for an enemy—yet... none appeared.
There was no beast. No demon. No explosion or attack.
Only that demonic aura—twisting, deep, ancient.
Then—
Everyone turned toward one person.
Matriarch Chu Ying.
Their eyes widened in disbelief.
Her aura was the source. The demonic energy was coming from her.
Chu Ying froze. "W-What…?" She looked down at her trembling hands, her chest tightening as confusion and horror swallowed her heart. "Why are you all staring at me like that?"
The very ground beneath her began to tremble.
Just then, ethereal lights shimmered in the air as three ancient elders, the secluded ancestors of Frost Cloud Pavilion, emerged from their hidden dimension.
Their gazes scanned the hall—and immediately locked onto Chu Ying.
"Seal her soul." One ancestor raised his hand, and a golden rune struck Chu Ying's forehead. Her soul was locked in an instant, rendering her powerless.
The second ancestor, with a dark, accusing expression, spoke thunderously:
"Chu Ying! You dare taint the reputation of the Frost Cloud Pavilion by colluding with demons! Do you know the consequences of such a vile act?"
Chu Ying collapsed to her knees. "N-No! Ancestors, please… I don't know what's happening! I swear, I've never colluded with demons! I don't know where this energy is coming from!"
"Silence, impudent wretch!" A heavy slap rang out as the elder backhanded her across the face.
Blood trickled from her lip as she fell sideways.
At that moment, another elder—sharper and more observant—noticed Wu Ming's calm posture, as if he had expected this.
"Truly worthy of the Azure Dragon Sect's Holy Son." She murmured
She raised her hand. "Wait."
Her gaze turned toward Chu Ying.
"Do you accept your guilt, or do you have anything to say in your defense?"
Chu Ying trembled. Her lips parted—but no words came.
How could she explain? She didn't know. Why now? Why today? Why her?
Her silence sealed her fate.
The lead ancestor spoke coldly:
"Then your punishment is clear. Chu Ying, your sins are heavier than you realize. The Frost Cloud Pavilion shows no leniency toward demons."
"You are hereby expelled from the sect."
"Your cultivation will be crippled. Your soul..... shattered. Your possessions... seized."
Gasps echoed.
Chu Ying's face turned pale. "No… no, this—this must be a mistake—"
But before she could say more, two elders grabbed her arms.
Without mercy, they began the execution.
CRACK!
Her meridians shattered.
BOOM!
Her dantian ruptured, the core inside turned to dust.
CRACKLE—SPLIT—
A sharp blade of soul energy pierced her chest, severing the soul seal. Her very consciousness split apart.
"AHHHH… AHHHH… AHHH!!!"
Her screams tore through the wedding hall as blood gushed from her mouth and eyes. Her body convulsed violently before collapsing to the cold floor.
Silence fell.
No one moved.
Chu Ying now lay on the ground like a broken doll—blood-soaked, shaking, discarded.
The same elders who had once praised her now stood at a distance, cold and unmoving.
No disciples came to her aid.
No one wept for her.
No one dared.
An elder announced grimly:
"Chu Ying. From this day onward, you are no longer a member of the Frost Cloud Pavilion. Crawl away with your life, if you still have it. Never return."
The wedding continued—drenched in blood.
And Chu Yao?
Still veiled in red, a faint, icy smile played at the edge of her lips.
At that time, Sun Menglan stepped forward. Her eyes met with one of the ancestor.
She approached to that ancestor and said ....