“On the books,” Ming Zhuo said, “you’re my dog; everything you have belongs to me.”
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“If one becomes tainted with the mundane, they cannot remain a god,” Ming Zhuo, though shrouded in shadows, did not change his expression even under that suggestive gaze. “You seem like someone sent to lure me into corruption.”
“The matchmaker in this array hinted long ago that the river god had eaten people before I married in. If you were able to fall into corruption, you would have done so already.” Luo Xu squeezed into the bridal sedan. “The 'reality' that the boy attendant acknowledged is precisely the boundary Lin Changming deeply hoped Jiang Linzhai would cross.”
“He knows he’s acting on a one-sided wish, so he set up this scenario,” Ming Zhuo said. “No matter whom you choose, he can comfort himself because 'Ruyi Lang' is him and the 'Head Disciple' is also him.”
These two identities, one bearing his name and the other his persona, meant that no matter who Luo Xu chose, Lin Changming could convince himself that Jiang Linzhai would choose him.
“Though both he and Ming Han speak half-truths, his purpose in activating the Nightmare Sealing Array must be related to you.” Due to the cramped space in the sedan, Luo Xu’s legs touched Ming Zhuo’s. “He believed the lie about sacrificing a god. Conveniently, Ming Han had those intentions, and he went along with it, so it wasn’t a loss for him.”
After being turned into a medicinal furnace, Lin Changming lost all his cultivation. Trying to activate the Nightmare Sealing Array alone would be an impossible feat. But if he pretended to be fooled, Ming Han would definitely give him the chance. Perhaps that was how he got the spiritual power to activate the array.
At this moment, the sound of suona horns blared outside, and the matchmaker, as if waking from a dream, rejoiced through the curtain, “Ruyi Lang has chosen our groom! What are you waiting for? Quickly, lift the sedan and head to the ceremony!”
With her words, the bridal sedan began to sway. The River God Temple was just ahead, and according to their arrangement when they entered the array, the wedding ceremony should be held there. But instead of going in, the bridal procession was turning around.
Ming Zhuo said, “You guessed right.”
This array only obeyed Lin Changming. Now that the route changed, it meant Luo Xu had answered correctly. His sharing the bridal sedan with Ming Zhuo signified he would be with “Ruyi Lang” no matter what, which was Lin Changming’s most desired outcome. Therefore, the direction of the sedan changed to go to Lin Changming’s desired wedding venue.
“His obsession with Jiang Linzhai has surpassed all else. The marriage is the outcome he most desired while assuming the identity of the river god, so the steps must not be messed up.” The cloth wrapped around Luo Xu’s hand loosened as he spoke, “From the start of the ceremony, your spiritual power will gradually recover. By the time the wedding is consummated, your power should be returned to like it was outside the array.”
He didn’t mention a word about himself, but the cloth he unwrapped was already stained with blood, and the wound on his palm stung.
Ming Zhuo suddenly extended his fingers, “Give it back to me.”
Luo Xu, holding the cloth, feigned ignorance, “This?”
In the swaying sedan, their shoulders and arms occasionally brushed against each other. Ming Zhuo said, “You soiled it.”
They seemed to exchange glances, but the dim light in the sedan made it hard to read each other's emotions. The subtle tension pushed out from Ming Zhuo’s tongue. Though he was shorter than Luo Xu, his words held a certain dominance, just like when he easily held Luo Xu’s leash with his gaze in the bath.
Luo Xu’s knuckles twitched, a small motion betraying an itch to act, hiding a perhaps indecent thought in the dim light. He didn’t move rashly and said as if admitting fault, “What if it’s dirty?”
Ming Zhuo’s fingers descended, landing in Luo Xu’s palm. Though the wound was trivial to Luo Xu, it became significant now—
Because Ming Zhuo’s fingers parted, their tips glided along the edge of the wound, from the base of Luo Xu’s finger to the base of his palm, as if measuring his territory.
“On the books,” Ming Zhuo said, “You’re my dog; everything you have belongs to me.”
The gold leaf on his forehead still gleamed, representing his role as a god. As he spoke, he slightly lifted his chin, exposing his amber eyes to Luo Xu in a nearly innocent manner.
“Just that?” Luo Xu seemed pulled by the neck, actually lowering his head. He closed in, even closer, like a beast lurking in the dark, gripping Ming Zhuo’s hand as he tried to pull back. “You won’t teach me a little lesson?”
The wound rubbed against Ming Zhuo’s fingertips, the faint scent of blood lingering. Luo Xu, indifferent to the pain, looked at him with eyes that could be either scheming or innocent.
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