Jiang Chuheng, chief of Cangwu Sect’s Sword Peak, was born with a Sword Bone and was a once-in-ten-thousand-years cultivation prodigy. He practiced the Path of Ruthlessness. Everyone said he was born for it: a cold heart, a cold sword, and an even colder man. Not a living thing within ten miles dared make a sound.
That is, until his master took in a junior disciple.
Gu Yu was a chatterbox who made friends with everyone. When he smiled, his bright white teeth were practically blinding. On their first day meeting, he tumbled down the mountain path and landed face-first at Jiang Chuheng’s feet. The first thing he said after getting up was, “Hello, Senior Brother. You’re so handsome. Can you teach me?”
Jiang Chuheng’s expression remained blank: ...
After that, things spiraled out of control.
Gu Yu made him an ugly sword tassel, and he kept it. Gu Yu made him terrible soup, and he drank it. Gu Yu sat beside him on a little stool and watched him practice his sword for the entire day, and he didn’t send him away. When Gu Yu was caught climbing over the wall, Jiang Chuheng took his place in confinement. When Gu Yu brought back an injured little fox from a secret realm, Jiang Chuheng allowed him to keep it.
Later, Gu Yu asked him, “Senior Brother, aren’t you practicing the Path of Ruthlessness? Why are you so good to me?”
Jiang Chuheng was silent for a long time.
Then he took out a marriage contract. Two names were written on it in crooked handwriting, and one of the two fingerprints had only been half-stamped.
“My hands were wet. I’ll stamp it tomorrow. It won’t smudge.”
Gu Yu froze for a moment, then smiled until his eyes curved into two crescent moons.
“Senior Brother, are you proposing to me?”
“...Yes.”
“Then I accept. But we’ll have to rewrite the marriage contract. You spelled your name wrong.”
“What did I get wrong?”
“You left out a stroke in ‘Chu.’ But it’s okay. I’ll keep every copy from now on.”
