Chapter 1: The Wedding Night
It was another snowy day.
Snowflakes as large as pebbles drifted down from the sky, slowly piling up on the rooftops.
“Captain, are you leaving already? I don’t think the Minister of Finance has shown up yet.” Qiu Shuang was holding a pastry, a smudge of cake still on the corner of her mouth, but her body had already started to drift instinctively toward the door.
This was a building erected next to the White Tower, occupying a sizable plot of land in the priceless Imperial Capital, designated for high-level officials to host banquets. A handcrafted artifact from before the Cataclysm hung by the entrance, tinkling incessantly as the wind blew past.
“Yes,” the man in the wheelchair said, glancing at her as he moved toward the door. His tone was calm. “I haven’t been your captain for a long time. Be careful in the Capital.”
He appeared much older than Qiu Shuang, whose face still had a touch of baby fat. His shoulder-length black hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and ivory-white gloves traced the distinct lines of his knuckles. Though his formal attire wasn’t of aristocratic design, it was well-tailored and elegant.
In the dim light of the doorway, his ice-blue eyes seemed particularly distant, as if they held a mysterious power.
If not for the fluffy coat draped over his shoulders, or if he hadn’t been sitting in a wheelchair, he would have undoubtedly appeared more spirited, more sharp-edged.
It was clear he was a high-level Guide who had been on the battlefield and suffered injuries.
It took Qiu Shuang a moment to react. She turned her head, blinked rapidly, and let out a soft “Oh.” She wanted to say more, but a wave of knowing laughter rose from the Sentinels behind her.
“I’m telling you, Doctor Qiu, don’t hold up Guide Xu. He’s getting married today.”
“That’s right. Even if they’re keeping it simple and skipping the ceremony, he still has to go home for the night.”
“And his husband is this year’s newly elected Chief Sentinel! The Chief! Young, handsome, and with a boundless future.”
Qiu Shuang froze.
“What, you didn’t even know that? And you used to be on Guide Xu’s team.”
One of the Sentinels laughed at her before steering the conversation back. “I bet his Sentinel—that Zhu Hui fellow—is already at home waiting for him.” As he spoke, his tone and expression took on a certain unspoken, knowing quality.
Sentinels were an easily agitated group, and life in the military was exceedingly dull. The men, used to joking around in the barracks, sometimes failed to distinguish the proper time and place.
Qiu Shuang’s face instantly flushed red, whether from embarrassment or shame. “I… I don’t really read that section of the news. Cap… I’m sorry, I was just thinking that it’s been so long… Happy wedding.”
“It’s fine. Thank you,” Xu Xunyue said, his expression still calm.
His gaze swept over the young female Guide before him, then to the others further back. He smiled. “Qiu Shuang, you should keep eating. You don’t often get the chance to eat things like this at work.”
Qiu Shuang nodded, but the Sentinel who had been speaking shivered.
Suddenly, it’s so cold.
It wasn’t just cold; it was a fear that came from the depths of his being, like encountering an unknown, unbeatable creature from a cataclysm zone.
It felt like it was there and not there, like it was close and yet far away. One second he was standing on solid ground, the next he was being dragged into the deep sea, where even a Sentinel’s physique couldn’t withstand the pressure.
A feeling of suffocation washed over him like a tide and then receded just as abruptly, so fast it felt like a Sentinel’s hallucination. He raised a hand to cover his mouth and nose, his unfocused gaze darting around before accidentally meeting Xu Xunyue’s ice-blue eyes. In their depths, he caught a flicker of golden light.
Like the tail of a falling star.
Extremely dangerous.
Xu Xunyue met the Sentinel’s terrified gaze, then glanced at the oblivious Qiu Shuang beside him, who looked completely bewildered.
Ding… ding… ding…
The wind was still blowing, and the ornament by the door was still swaying.
The shadows cast by the ornament were strange. Some moved to the left, some to the right, and others remained perfectly still.
[Captain… what a pity… I wish I could be on his team again…]
[I need to breathe… what was that… am I dying…]
Intensely strong emotions from others drifted about. Xu Xunyue didn’t deliberately listen, but his spiritual power was too strong and his spiritual body too diffuse; sometimes, he couldn’t help but brush against fragments of them.
Not every Guide possessed this ability. In fact, as far as Xu Xunyue knew, he was the only one who could obtain this information with relative ease. Perhaps it had something to do with him being an Offensive Guide.
Humanity was now divided into three types: ordinary people, Guides, and Sentinels. The latter two had only appeared in recent centuries and possessed their own spiritual bodies. A spiritual body was a partner in battle that would never betray you, and to some extent, it reflected a person’s subconscious.
Sentinels had superior physical abilities but fragile minds, and their spiritual bodies were mostly temperamental. In contrast, Guides had a unique advantage in the mental realm and could soothe Sentinels, but their physical strength was little better than an ordinary person’s. Their spiritual bodies were typically gentle creatures.
As for Xu Xunyue’s spiritual body… it was difficult to say which known creature of the world it was. It was composed of endless shadows, able to take the form of any cold weapon, and usually roamed by its master’s side.
Years ago, some believed it was a special product of the Cataclysm, but that theory vanished after Xu Xunyue became famous.
And now, after his “legs were crippled” and he resigned from his position as Chief Guide, the same group of people was beginning to stir again.
The intimidated Sentinel took two steps back, breaking out in a sweat despite the heavy snow. He didn’t even realize he was slightly hunched over.
“Guide Xu, take care. Happy wedding.”
[That scared me to death… The high-level Guides I knew before weren’t like this… A guy like that got crippled going deep into a cataclysm zone?]
Xu Xunyue’s expression didn’t change, as if nothing had happened and the Sentinel was simply imagining things.
He turned his wheelchair around. The glint of gold in his eyes was long gone, replaced by their original, pure ice-blue—the color of the ocean, a common sight in the cataclysm zones.
Qiu Shuang watched his retreating back in the wheelchair, her eyes turning red again. She didn’t notice that the shadows of the ornament by the door had all begun to sway in the same direction.
It was eight o’clock in the evening, Imperial Capital time.
The snow was falling even harder, and Xu Xunyue would be returning home alone in this weather.
Before the Cataclysm, a snowstorm of this magnitude would have made headlines. But after the Cataclysm, temperatures plummeted, blizzards swept the land, and the sea swallowed the plains, turning former homes into frozen ruins. Such snowy days were now commonplace.
People called the new era the Poseidon Era. Fourteen years had passed, and every year was winter.
Everyone was used to it.
“You have arrived at your destination according to the planned route. Please check for any personal belongings. Welcome home.”
Two hours later, as the car’s navigation system announced his arrival, Xu Xunyue reached his residence—a small manor on the western outskirts of the Imperial Capital.
The manor was slightly old-fashioned, with a fountain at the entrance. Such water features only existed in buildings constructed before the Poseidon Era; afterward, the world was so bitterly cold that a fountain would do nothing but freeze solid.
Old and new snow weighed down the stone walls, and long icicles hung from the doorframe. From outside the walls, Xu Xunyue could see the three-story house in the courtyard. The windows on the upper floors were pitch-black, without a single light on.
Before today, Xu Xunyue had lived alone. When he was out, the house would naturally be dark.
After today…
Xu Xunyue used a key to open the manor gate.
No one was at the door.
His husband had only graduated from the Sentinel Academy at the end of this year. Before that, he had lived in the academy’s Sentinel dormitories or with the army. He owned no property and was supposed to have moved in here today.
It was now ten o’clock at night. On the very day their marriage contract officially took effect, Xu Xunyue had returned quite late, and “his Sentinel” was even later.
It was not a pleasant situation, but the man in question merely lifted his lips in a slight smile and hung the unlocked padlock to the side of the gate.
Barren branches tapped tirelessly against the second-floor window. Soon, two solitary lines of tire tracks were imprinted in the soft, sunken snow, leading to the small house.
The moment he was inside, Xu Xunyue shrugged off his heavy coat. Though seated in his wheelchair, he was able to toss the garment steadily onto the coat rack.
The lights were off, and the room was very dark, but he seemed completely unaffected, heading straight for the kitchen in the gloom.
He lit the stove, boiled water, and casually tossed a few prepared vegetables into the pot, letting them simmer over a low flame.
Aided by his Guide abilities, the entire process was as smooth as flowing water, with every detail perfectly controlled. A simple soup with simple ingredients was quickly made.
He had already eaten at the banquet, so Xu Xunyue only ladled half a bowl for himself, drinking it very slowly at first.
As the hot soup entered his mouth, a muddled, familiar feeling rolled over his tongue before slipping away.
Feeling the warmth of the soup spread through his stomach, he held the bowl and stared at the rippling surface for a moment. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he drank the rest in one go.
It was quite good.
When Xu Xunyue was young, his parents would often make him soup after he participated in some activity—any activity, be it a field trip or a ball game. Xu Xunyue himself strongly suspected that “making soup for their son” was just an excuse for his Sentinel mother to play around in the kitchen.
A Sentinel’s five senses were extremely sharp, which was an advantage in battle but also a disadvantage in other ways. Things ordinary people took for granted were sources of overstimulation for them. When a Sentinel cooked, not only was it difficult to grasp the flavor of the food, but their already fragile senses of taste and smell were easily damaged.
In his family, it was usually his Guide father who cooked. But whenever Xu Xunyue returned from being out, his mother would sneak into the kitchen, snacking while making soup. Although his father would help keep an eye on things and regulate his mother’s sensory experience, he still couldn’t salvage the quality of the soup.
Each batch was different. Each batch was uniquely terrible.
To this day, Xu Xunyue had never figured out the secret to the concoctions those two came up with together. But whether it tasted good or bad, it had become a habit.
It was nearly eleven o’clock.
By the time he had cleaned up, washed, and methodically put his gloves back on and draped the heavy coat over his shoulders again, the fluctuations of another person finally appeared at the very edge of his spiritual perception.
The fluctuations were faint, but they were definitely there. Xu Xunyue could vaguely sense a rather complex but not anxious emotion.
The shadows spread out silently, merging with the silhouette cast by the moonlight on the snow.
Xu Xunyue took the elevator to the second floor, casually pulled a book from the shelf, and turned on the light.
Click.
The young man walking alone in the snow stopped in his tracks.
A window in the small house had just lit up.
