How did she even end up as the officiant?

First thing she knew, she was observing a small bottle when she noticed something strange within it, which was some kind of mist swirling inside, forming silhouettes of a woman and a child. The next moment, in the span of a blink, she was no longer there, and instead was standing before the gates of an unfamiliar residence.

In her hands was a carefully wrapped cloth bundle, containing her ceremonial garments as the Great Guest, and before she could fully orient herself, the gates were already opened.

It was utterly shocking!

Not only that, as she was greeted not by servants alone, but by the household head and ritual attendants, who stepped forward with formal respect befitting a summoned Great Guest. She was then led to a side chamber prepared for ritual guests, and where she'd changed and had properly arranged before the ceremony. After that, within the chamber, she was attended to by ritual assistants, and briefly addressed by the household head in restrained formalities, while senior attendants guided the preparations.

Warm clear tea was served before the morning rites would commence in the ancestral hall, and as they spoke lightly of the beginning of the year, which was not unusual to Shengsi, her suspicion had already taken root, becoming something certain within her mind: this was indeed a dream where Xie Chuanhu dreamt of his life before.

However, what struck her as most unusual were the snatches of conversation drifting in from outside the chamber... Those remarks that felt slightly incongruous, though not overtly wrong.

“I cannot believe my grandnephew Jiawei is already entering adulthood at such an early age.”

“Jiawei, he is said to be brilliant and gifted, a prodigy born of a prestigious lineage. Surely Lord Hanwei’s household is fortunate to have him!”

“...Jiawei... he's basically someone ought to inherit all of these. Even he is lucky to be the only heir!”

Jiawei here, Jiawei there.

That name, “Jiawei”, was repeated itself more than once in what she overheard.

This made her first assumption unclear.

He thought he's somewhere here, like a servant, or a personal guard...

And then she asked herself quietly:

Where on earth was Xie Chuanhu in this dream sequence?

When their gazes met, Shengsi felt something akin to the shedding of a serpent’s skin in his eyes — those snake-like pupils that seemed to echo a myth of endless return, like an ouroboros. Yet they had not fully matured into that of a serpent in this time.

His purity still contained something overwhelming, something that had not yet burned itself out, but instead lingered like embers. Quiet? Perhaps creeping? Even unfathomably deep! It's though life and death were already coiled within the man he would one day become… or perhaps had already become, hidden somewhere beyond even her comprehension.

Never it had looked deceitful, not even the tiniest, but one that was silent, as if bearing witness to the cycle of yin and yang.

It took only a moment before Shengsi realized that nearly all eyes were upon her, from the parents to the assembled guests.

Clearing her throat, she fixed her composure and proclaimed: “ On this auspicious day...” May Buddha help her with her line! “I perform...” Perform what? “...the rite to mark...” Was that even correct! “...your adulthood.” Adulthood? She almost spat! “Abandon childish ways...” She nearly gasped for air and abandon this. “...and cultivate virtue...” Cultivate her senses! How truly this was hard!

Jiawei stepped forward, posture composed.

At the proper moment, he inclined his head slightly.

Good then, he knew what he’s doing. She just had to follow him. Follow him and should not this be ruined.

Shengsi placed the cap upon his tied hair.

Once it was set, Jiawei withdrew with his attendant to change.

What's strange was how he— 

He was looking at her peculiarly! 

Was her impersonation that bad?

Meanwhile, within the side chamber, Jiawei spoke quietly, “Did you find anything strange?”

The attendant lowered his head. “My Lord, has something troubled you? This servant does not perceive anything unusual.”

Jiawei shook his head. “It is nothing.”

When he returned, his attire had become a little ceremonial than before.

The Great Guest proceeded with the second capping.

“Respect propriety,” Shengsi began. It sounded official, at least. “...be steadfast in conduct…” But why was he still looking at her like that? Someone ought to make him stop looking at her peculiarly! “…and honor your lineage.”

As Shengsi was replacing the next cap, her face creased — causing the cap to almost be dropped.

Fortunately, she had quick reflexes and managed to put it on his head with temperance.

Jiawei withdrew once more, but gave one look the same as before.

As Jiawei was changing:

“The Great Guest is… somewhat unprofessional,” Jiawei murmured.

The attendant blinked, uncertain on what he meant.

“Interesting,” Jiawei added.

When he returned again, his garments were now fully formal, befitting the later stage of the rite.

Shengsi felt her composure thinning under his gaze.

Still, she continued.

“Perfect your virtue, uphold righteousness, and bring honor to your ancestors.”

If she survived this, she would never be speaking in public again!

The final cap was placed.

For the nth time, Jiawei withdrew to don his complete ceremonial attire.

Then, as his consistent peculiar stare looked at the Great Guest, did the latter stifled and twitched her lips in stupefaction, before she proceeded to the next part of the ceremony.

Jiawei returned once more, now clad in full ceremonial attire.

He stepped forward and took his place, facing north, and performed his bows in proper order, and so the rite had reached its final step.

Shengsi felt every gaze settle upon her again.

What was next to this?

She scurried through her thoughts, trying to recall how the Guan Li ceremony worked, one that her brother had experienced, just as she had undergone the hairpin ceremony, since Grandfather Li had performed both rites for the Zhi twins, who were never meant to be separated in this life.

If she was right, then this must be it.

What came after would be the courtesy name bestowal.

Shengsi stepped forward and eased the lump in her throat.

“You have completed the rites of capping…”

Shengsi held her breath.

“…and stand now at the threshold of adulthood.”

And she stood at the threshold of heaven and earth for her audacity to even be here!

“From this day forth, you are to cultivate virtue, uphold propriety, and bring honor to your lineage.”

And what about her honor?

Lampooning herself inwardly, she closed her eyes.

A name… what courtesy name could he have?

“Your courtesy name shall be…”

If this were wrong, she would be finished.

On the other hand, Jiawei was stealing glances at her with the same interest and oddity.

Shengsi’s expression softened. Jiang Hanwei was the head of the household, who turned out to be the Duke of Zhongyong’s father, if she remembered correctly. If Xie Chuanhu was acting out Jiawei’s ceremonial rite, as if it were himself, and had been mimicking the life of the Duke, then that glance might signify that he had noticed his ‘gimmick’ in this lucid dream.

Not only had this changed the trajectory of what Chuanhu was dreaming, but it had already been ruined by her unprofessionalism in this field. She’s not even competent in her role as a Great Guest, nor as an elder with proper wisdom in this aspect.

Therefore, what was the revered courtesy name bestowed upon the Duke of Zhongyong?

Did Xie Chuanhu even know that this poor Duke was still missing?

Courtesy name…

Jiawei lowered himself into a deep bow.

“Ziteng.”

Hearing that, Shengsi flinched but quickly regained her composure.

“That is my courtesy name,” Chuanhu said, looking her directly in the eye with such intensity that she almost fled for her life. “Great Guest.”

That mention of “Great Guest” felt personal now.

Shengsi then repeated it, though her brows were knitted. “Ziteng.” She pondered its meaning. “From ‘zi,’ meaning gentleman, and ‘teng,’ meaning surging forward. You are then Ziteng…”

She caught him smiling, strangely, almost unnervingly.

She had to swallow hard.

This child didn't seem to act like a child.

“I respectfully receive it and shall not dare forget.”

After offering to his ancestors and performing formal salutations, they proceeded to the banquet hall, where Jiawei was occupied with greeting the assembled guests and elders.

Shengsi was seated alone at a table as she tried to observe Xie Chuanhu.

At first glance, she might have thought this man was indeed the Duke of Zhongyong.

Yet on second thought, even with his excellent performance in acting and mastery of propriety, he must have been someone close to the nobility. She was not ignorant of the possibility that he might be a noble himself, perhaps one who had idolized the Duke in life, before he was buried alive, since something this intricate couldn't have been fabricated without exposure to such refinement.

It was almost perfect.

But that gaze…

Shengsi knew his facade had been exposed the moment she made errors, allowing him to turn this into something bizarrely close to a flawless imitation.

Apart from that, no one had truly seen the Duke.

And he wasn't someone who'd spare her if this entire setup collapsed.

The Duke was that ruthless.

And secretive.

Wearing a tiger demon mask in war was one thing; in such moments, he was regarded as Ziteng.

“I finally remembered it.” Shengsi looked at her food and took a sip of tea. “Tiger on earth, serpent in heaven.”

The great Duke, Jiang Jiawei, was regarded with such a phrase, connected to how the officiant had chosen his courtesy name. But looking at the child with such tenderness and innocence as he spoke with his parents, he did not carry that aura. At least not in the way Shengsi perceived it in this moment.

Xie Chuanhu looked more like a baby serpent than one who would spill blood on the battlefield and be as ruthless as a tiger prowling on its enemy, and a serpent perceiving movement from its lair.

Perhaps he dreamed of this life because he had never had it.

And she saw through him in the first place.

After all, someone like him would not dream of this unless he had lived near nobility.

Otherwise, he might truly be the Duke, and she might be wrong.

But right now, she would not believe it.

No one would dare bury a powerful Duke capable of contending with thousands through wisdom, strength, and warlock expertise.

It's an existence of overwhelming might.

As she was minding her own business, someone sat across from her.

When she looked up, she met those snake-like eyes once more, eyes she might yet succumb to and lose herself within.

“Esteemed Great Guest,” Chuanhu’s voice was cold as ice, as though he were winter itself. “Do you want to play a game?”

Before she could even respond, the game had already begun.