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The Miao Village had always been lifeless, rarely witnessing any joyous occasions or festive activities.
But today was different—today, someone was getting married.
This seemed to be the first wedding in the Miao Village in over a hundred years.
Red lanterns and silk ribbons hung everywhere in the village, and the villagers bustled about in an unusual flurry of activity, careful not to overlook a single detail.
Even the mourning hall, where the village chief’s body lay, was no exception.
The white mourning drapes had long been taken down, replaced with celebratory red, as if this were not a funeral but a wedding.
And indeed, a wedding was about to take place.
Ruan Qing woke up and slowly sat up, rubbing his aching head. His beautiful eyes were misty with sleep, still heavy with drowsiness.
He looked around at the sea of red filling the room, his delicate face blank with confusion, unable to process what was happening.
This was his room, wasn’t it? Then why was everything red? Wasn’t it his mother’s funeral these past few days?
His mind was a tangled mess, even throbbing faintly. Just as he tried to recall what had happened, a sharp pain shot through his head, his pupils dilating slightly.
Because in that instant, a new memory surfaced in his mind.
—"I like you."
—"Will you marry me?"
In a secluded room, a kerosene lamp flickered, casting a dim glow that illuminated the space, including the edge of the bed near the table.
A delicate-looking young man sat on the bed, his face flushed as he timidly grasped the hand of the man seated beside him. His beautiful eyes overflowed with adoration.
Clearly, the young man was proposing.
The man seemed reluctant, his handsome face filled with hesitation. He even tried to pull his hand back, but the young man had intertwined their fingers, leaving him no room to retreat. In the end, he could only let the young man hold his hand helplessly.
The man seemed terrible at refusing others. With a resigned sigh, he said gently, "Your mother’s seventh-day memorial hasn’t even passed yet."
His tone was soft, as if trying to persuade the young man to reconsider.
Perhaps because the man hadn’t outright rejected him, the young man’s eyes brightened with hope. Excited, he replied, "It’s fine! Before she died, my mom kept insisting I find a partner. She’d be so happy if I got married."
The man’s expression grew even more troubled upon hearing this. It was clear he wanted to refuse the young man but didn’t know how.
The young man didn’t give him the chance to refuse. Kneeling on the bed, he leaned forward slightly, tilting his head, and pressed a kiss directly to the man’s handsome face.
The man seemed caught off guard by the kiss. His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at the delicate face before him, and his fingers, interlaced with the young man’s, unconsciously tightened.
The young man’s kiss was light and pure—just a simple press of lips, devoid of any desire—yet it made the man’s ears turn red and his entire body stiffen.
The scene seemed to freeze in that moment.
And the young man in that scene was none other than Ruan Qing himself.
…
Absurd. This was utterly absurd.
Ruan Qing found the whole thing ridiculous. His mother’s seventh-day memorial hadn’t even passed, yet here he was, proposing to a complete stranger.
Worse still, he had strong-armed the man into agreeing.
How could he have fallen in love with a man at first sight? And how could he have gone against his mother’s dying wishes before she was even buried?
Sure, his mother had repeatedly urged him to meet potential partners—but that definitely didn’t include anyone from Miao Village.
His mother, like him, had always deeply despised the villagers of Miao Village. Since childhood, she had warned him not to associate with them. If she knew he’d proposed to one, she’d probably rise from her coffin in fury.
Besides, he had no interest in supporting another person—especially not some stiff, unyielding man.
He must have lost his mind last night.
Ruan Qing threw off the covers and got out of bed, heading straight for the door. He was going to find that man and call off this wedding.
But the moment he stepped outside, he froze.
Villagers were hanging large red lanterns in the courtyard, and not far from them stood a man, quietly directing them.
Hearing the door open behind him, the man slowly turned and smiled at Ruan Qing.
“Good morning.”
The man was strikingly handsome, dressed in a simple, elegant blue robe. His gentle smile carried an air of quiet refinement, as if he were a noble scholar untouched by worldly concerns.
He looked every bit the dignified, cultured gentleman—completely out of place in Miao Village, yet undeniably a part of it.
Only someone with a certain status in Miao Village could order the villagers around.
And this man clearly held no small standing in Miao Village.
Ruan Qing had initially been impatient, ready to stop the villagers from hanging the lanterns—but the moment he saw the man’s gentle smile, his heart skipped a beat. A strange, tingling warmth rose from deep inside him.
Then, an emotion he could only name as excitement and joy flooded his mind, making his heartbeat quicken inexplicably.
Ruan Qing recognized this man. He was the one from his memories—the man he had insisted on marrying, even before his mother’s seventh-day funeral rites had passed.
Looking at the man’s faint smile, Ruan Qing suddenly understood why he had been so desperate to marry him.
Because when this man stood there, the entire world faded into the background, leaving nothing but the soft curve of his smile as he glanced back.
Pure. Gentle. Untouched.
Even Miao Village, a place Ruan Qing had always despised, didn’t seem so hateful in this moment.
He didn’t know why his heart was racing. Maybe it was because the man’s eyes lacked the cold indifference and gloom of the other villagers. Maybe it was because his gaze was just too tender.
And tenderness always made people want to drown in it.
"...Good morning." Ruan Qing’s voice softened almost involuntarily. After speaking, he pressed his lips together, uneasy, and stepped forward with slight nervousness.
As Ruan Qing approached, the man stiffened, awkwardly retreating a step to put some distance between them.
The man from his memories had always felt distant, unreal—but seeing him now, Ruan Qing didn’t regret forcing the marriage last night at all.
In fact, he was even a little displeased by the man’s evasion.
Ruan Qing closed the gap in one stride, gripping the man’s hand firmly. "Why are you avoiding me? You agreed to marry me."
The man’s handsome face twisted with hesitation. He looked at Ruan Qing and spoke carefully, "I just think… we might not be suited—"
"Where’s the mismatch?" Ruan Qing cut him off, interlacing their fingers. He gave the man no chance to argue.
"I think we’re perfect."
His words were as domineering as they had been the night before, leaving no room for refusal.
And then, still holding the man’s hand, he began directing the villagers himself—showing everyone just who this man belonged to.
“This lantern is hanging too crooked—move it a bit to the left, higher up.”
“A little higher.”
The man wanted to refuse, but every time he was about to speak, Ruan Qing would direct the villagers to adjust the lantern, leaving him no chance to interject.
In the end, he could only helplessly let Ruan Qing hold his hand, as if there was nothing he could do about him.
The man’s nature was too gentle—so gentle that he didn’t know how to refuse others.
Yet upon closer inspection, one would notice the villagers beside him trembling uncontrollably. Even their hands, hanging the lanterns, shook slightly, their usually indifferent faces now etched with deep terror.
That terror was directed at the man.
The closer he stood, the more violently the villagers trembled, to the point where they could barely hold the lanterns steady.
The villagers had never seen this man before, but they knew exactly who he was.
The reason the northern part of Miao Village was forbidden was because it was home to someone—a man who struck fear into every villager’s heart.
A man… who stood above the rules of Miao Village itself.
The live-stream audience had been watching the broadcast nonstop since last night, the barrage of comments never ceasing, filled with nothing but curses aimed at the man.
[You fucking fake! Keep pretending, asshole! You’re the one who cast the curse, yet you act all innocent? Pfft! Playing the victim after pulling this shit—go die, you dog!]
[If you didn’t want to marry, just say so! If you didn’t want to be tied down, you could’ve shaken off your wife’s hand! Don’t tell me you couldn’t break free—what, are you that weak?]
[I’m laughing. You just want to enjoy being chased by our wife, huh? Well, I curse you to rot in the gutter!]
[I’ve never seen such a shameless man in my life. You cast the curse yourself, yet you act reluctant? Don’t worry—I’ve got a prophecy for you: this wedding ain’t happening.]
While the players inside the instance didn’t understand the situation, the live-stream audience knew the full story.
Last night, after the man arrived, he had glanced coldly at the two, then taken Ruan Qing from Miao Ciyu’s arms.
And as if possessed, Miao Ciyu and Miao Linyuan made no move to stop him, allowing the man to carry Ruan Qing away.
The man brought Ruan Qing to a secluded room, where the live-stream viewers watched in horror as he took out something, attempting to force-feed it to the unconscious Ruan Qing.
Then, Ruan Qing woke up.
But it changed nothing. The disparity in their strength was too great—the man gripped Ruan Qing’s chin and forced whatever it was down her throat.
Just as the live-stream audience was gripped with worry, the next second, they saw Ruan Qing fall in love with the man at first sight—and even propose to him outright.
And unlike when Miao Linyuan had forced him to swallow the gu worm, this time Ruan Qing showed no resistance at all. Even his eyes were filled with nothing but love for the man.
The viewers could feel Ruan Qing’s emotions through the screen—pure and sincere, every reaction radiating adoration for the man.
He was deeply in love with this stranger he’d never met before.
Ruan Qing seemed to have forgotten being forced to swallow something, forgotten his hatred for Miao Village, even forgotten his identity as a player.
He had fully become Miao Qing.
The audience’s hearts clenched. Players who forgot their identities rarely survived the dungeon, because they’d forget its dangers too.
And the NPCs in the dungeon wouldn’t go easy on a player just because they’d lost their memories—especially not when Ruan Qing still had a gu worm inside him.
If the gu worm remained unresolved by the time the dungeon was set to end, he’d be trapped there forever.
In the courtyard, the two stood hand in hand, fingers interlaced. One earnestly directed the villagers hanging red lanterns, while the other, ears flushed red, quietly let himself be led. The atmosphere was tender and sweet.
So sweet… it made one want to ruin it.
