[Blurb tentative, please refer to the novel once it begins]
Among the six continents and twelve cities of the immortal sects, the Hehuan Sect is neither big nor small. It is not an orthodox Daoist sect, nor does it have the stature and heritage of a top-tier sect. Yet its reputation precedes it, so it can't simply act like some backwater little sect with nothing to lose. The sect leader of the Hehuan Sect is always anxious about being branded heretical and wiped out in one fell swoop. He does everything he can to carve out a foothold among the immortal sects, turning marriage alliances into the greatest business in the world. First he married his senior disciple off to the Daoist sect of West Kunlun, then he planned to sell his Holy Son to the Taiwei Sect of Dongshan, aiming to become the father-in-law of the entire immortal sect world. It was a brilliant scheme of forging alliances to counter opposing alliances.
However, the Holy Son of the Hehuan Sect had been shut away with an illness for years. The debts from his wild and unruly youth, when he swaggered around and flirted with everyone, had presumably long since blown away. Now all that remained were meridians and a body as good as useless, paltry ambitions, and one pretty face that still had some value. It was enough to make anyone worry that the sect leader's business venture had been doomed from the start.
The sect leader was perpetually anxious and on high alert, so he ordered the Holy Son to attend the Kunchi Assembly and find himself and the Hehuan Sect a sucker to support them for the rest of their lives, letting them lie flat.
The Hehuan Sect's Holy Son, cripple, young master of the Seventh Ghostly Capital, true demonic cultivator, Ying Wushuang, considered this for a moment. Sounds good.
The Red Dust Sword Master Fang Buqu of Yingzhou Mingguang was born noble, exceptionally gifted, elegant as the bright moon, and richly talented. He was a model immortal cultivator and an exemplar of the righteous path, a first-rate power in the world, with only transcendence and ascension in broad daylight left to achieve.
This perfect Fang Buqu was, as everyone knew, flawed in one respect: he had terrible taste in partners. In his youth, he recklessly fell in love with the master of Hezhen Palace, but cultivation was no less concerned with matching social standing. The other man brushed him aside and forgot him as easily as something left by the roadside. Later, once Fang Buqu had made a name for himself, he insisted on entering a marriage alliance with a deceased demonic cultivator from the Ghostly Path, no matter how much his elders tried to dissuade him. Even now, perhaps cultivation really could drive one mad: the more profound Fang Buqu's cultivation became, the more twisted his taste grew, until he took a fancy to the Hehuan Sect's Holy Son, a man who frequented pleasure quarters, had let his cultivation waste away, was all looks and no substance, and was now a cripple.
The Mingzhou Academy offers a kind reminder: Cultivation comes with risks. Entering a marriage alliance requires caution. Safeguarding the mental health of every fellow cultivator is a shared responsibility.
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Fang Buqu, a perfectly healthy graduate of the Unfeeling Dao, the embodiment of every sword cultivator stereotype, x Ying Wushuang, a man versed in the Ways of Pleasure, Red Dust, and Ghosts, who has cultivated in so many paths and realms that sooner or later he'll go berserk.
Theme: The mountain road is long, but I'll cross the snow to meet you.
