On My Wedding Day, My Childhood Friend Took My Brother’s Hand

On their wedding day, the bride walks into the hall in black, holding another man's hand. The red silk streamers are still up, the wedding music still playing, when she says, “Zichen, the person I've always loved was never you.” He is the first disciple of the head of Taiwei Heaven Sect, gentle as jade, brilliant and extraordinarily gifted. To marry his childhood sweetheart and junior sister, he personally arranged a ten-mile wedding procession adorned in red. Yet the sight that greets him is her fingers intertwined with those of his closest friend. “You gave me care, not a racing heart.” With one sentence, she dismisses two hundred years of devotion. She thinks he is merely a Golden Core cultivator she can push around. She doesn't know he has mastered the sect's supreme art, the Nine Swords of Heavenly Force: the first sword defeats a Nascent Soul cultivator, the second drives back a Deity Transformation cultivator, and the third can cleave heaven and earth. She thinks he will beg her to stay. She doesn't know the pride buried deep in his bones. When he returns, reborn through fire, the eternal sword path lies behind him, but before him stands only her lonely grave. Was her betrayal real, or was it her final act of devotion before death? Is this a tragic romance in one lifetime, or a love entangled across three lives?