The summons came at dawn.

Sky Wolf Gate’s pavilion overlooked the lake, banners snapping in a wind that cut sharp as steel. Disciples lined the stairs, their eyes trained forward, their silence louder than war drums.

At the foot of the dais sat the coffer. Vermilion lacquer, iron-bound, its lid painted with twin wolves snarling beneath a crescent moon. A marriage box. The kind that sealed pacts, promises, and chains.

Ge Ji Ming knelt before it, sabers crossed on the ground as if surrendering to fate.

Across from him stood Kang Ya Zhen, robes of silk and red lantern, her fan held loosely in pale fingers. She looked every inch the dutiful bride. But her eyes flicked to me once, so briefly it might have been a trick of light, and I thought I saw something else. A warning.

Master Jian Yue’s voice carried like thunder. “Today, Sky Wolf Gate accepts the union decreed by pact. The Twin Blades shall guard Kang Clan’s roads, and in return, their silks shall feed the Wolf.”

Cheers from the disciples. Coins clinked in merchant hands. Alliances, sealed with bloodless smiles.

Ji Ming did not cheer. He did not move. Only when Jian Yue gestured did he lift the coffer’s lid. Inside lay the ritual tokens: red silk cord, twin silver rings, a carved wolf sigil. Symbols that chained him to a future not his own.

The air thickened. My lotus hairpin burned at my crown.

For an instant, Ji Ming’s qi flared, not outward, but inward, as if rejecting the bond. His resonance brushed mine across the dais, invisible to all others. The world slowed, the cheers muffled. For that heartbeat, he was not Sky Wolf’s heir or Kang Clan’s pawn. He was simply Ge Ji Ming, tethered to me by a rhythm neither of us could sever.

Then the lid fell shut with a hollow thud.

The moment shattered. Disciples cheered louder.

Kang Ya Zhen smiled with perfect grace.Only I saw Ji Ming’s hands tremble as he tied the silk cord.

And only Ya Zhen saw my hairpin glow silver under the sun.