Chapter 60: Red Threads Bind Fate, One Day to Seal Affection

Gu Changhuai walked down the long street and saw most people heading in one direction, so he followed along. As he reached the western part of the city, the stalls began selling more incense, candles, river lanterns for prayers, red ribbons to hang on trees, and wooden carvings—mostly items like these.

It wasn’t long before he crossed a bridge and spotted a temple with a stone stele at the front—General Temple.

He climbed the steps amid the flow of worshippers and entered the General Temple. In the center of the courtyard stood a massive cauldron, and in one corner grew a large tree tied full of red ribbons.

Gu Changhuai looked around, then followed the crowd to the back courtyard, which was also lively.

A larger stone stele stood in the back courtyard, surrounded by two or three people reading it. Gu Changhuai approached, paused for a moment, and read every word carefully. It was engraved with the life story of the temple’s master, the Ghost-Eye General.

Though lacking details, it laid out the broad strokes clearly.

From being abandoned at birth to every victorious battle in his growth, it was all recorded, ending with—missing in action.

No one knew how much hardship he had endured along the way.

Gu Changhuai’s gaze swept over each character, his long lashes slightly lowered, a faint indifference in his eyes, lost in thought. After a long while, he finally walked away from the stele.

The General Temple wasn’t large, and he finished touring it quickly. He wandered another lap around the city and suddenly heard a cry of alarm that made him stop.

“It’s spilled! All spilled!” A plainly dressed woman rushed out of the house, hurriedly picking up the overturned tofu stand and the bean curd scattered on the ground.

A middle-aged man who looked honest and simple-minded joined her in cleaning up, rolling up his sleeves to reveal several scars on his arm, a cheerful smile still on his face.

The woman immediately shot him a glare. “Still laughing! I told you these past couple of days there’d be crowds and to be careful, and you still spilled it!”

The middle-aged man admitted his fault. “Yes, yes, my bad.”

Moments later, a young boy ran out from the house to help lift the fallen stand. “Mom, stop scolding Dad. He was careful enough.”

Gu Changhuai glanced sideways and noticed the boy’s empty sleeve—his hand was gone.

Seeing the boy run out, the woman’s expression flashed with worry. She hurriedly pushed him back inside. “Go, go, go back to your studies. Dad and Mom can handle this.”

The boy frowned, reluctant as he was shoved inside, still protesting, “Mom, I only lost one hand. I’m not useless…”

Their voices faded, though faintly he heard the woman say, “Your sister is gone. You’re all Mom has left. Don’t make me worry.”

After settling the boy, the woman came back out and helped the middle-aged man clean up the mess. The spilled bean curd was quickly swept away, the stand righted, and soon they returned inside, out of sight.

Seeing this, Gu Changhuai turned and headed back toward the inn. He thought for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head.

Who would have thought? It was quite the golden cicada shedding its shell ploy.

…

When he returned, Pei Tianyi was no longer in the inn room.

Seeing Rong Ye holding two red silk ribbons, fiddling with them, Gu Changhuai glanced around and asked, “Where is he?”

Rong Ye said, “Out for a stroll.”

“That’s good. He should get out and about.” Gu Changhuai chuckled lightly, his attention drawn to the bite mark at Rong Ye’s Adam’s apple—embarrassingly conspicuous…

He strode over in two steps and snatched the red ribbons from Rong Ye’s hand.

Rong Ye remained unmoved, his expression calm, his gaze steady without a hint of fluctuation, letting Gu Changhuai wrap the ribbons around his neck a few times with deft movements, tying them off with a slipknot at the end.

Mission accomplished, Gu Changhuai said, “There, that covers it.” He paused, then hesitantly added, “Pei Tianyi didn’t say anything, did he?”

Rong Ye lowered his eyes, recalling their recent conversation where Pei Tianyi had kept glancing over, looking like he wanted to speak but held back.

“…” His gaze darkened, his voice flat. “No.”

Hearing this, Gu Changhuai took him at his word, patting his chest in relief. Whew, good thing. The fewer people who knew about his drunken embarrassment, the better.

A sudden gust of wind rustled outside the window.

The sun hung high, but fine raindrops drifted down with the breeze, bringing a cool freshness. Though the shower was light, it excited everyone inside and out. Some ran under the eaves, others to the streets, cheering as they welcomed the rain.

Perhaps seeing Gu Changhuai staring blankly out the window, Rong Ye slowly explained, “After the great drought five hundred years ago, the Wandering God Ceremony became not just a prayer for blessings, but also for rain. Originally, the Wandering God had only one day, but over time, it extended to three.”

“Why?” Gu Changhuai stretched his hand out the window, catching the rain in his palm. The cool threads tingled against his skin, and the corners of his eyes curved slightly. “Does this god have a temper and only rain on the second day?”

Rong Ye: “No, later the marriage banquet came along, and the rules of the Wandering God Ceremony changed—from one day to three.”

Cheers rose from the streets, but it was as if clouds muffled them, keeping the noise from entering the room. Gu Changhuai had to lean on the windowsill to hear the clamor outside.

His gaze fell on his rain-wetted palm. Ahead lay the bustling long street; behind was the quiet room. Rong Ye’s low, husky voice rose amid it all—

“One day to bind fate.”

“One day to seal affection.”

“One day to wed.”

“Bang—”

Fireworks bloomed in the sky—perhaps to celebrate the rain. Someone had set them off in broad daylight, leaving faint traces against the bright blue.

Beautiful.

Gu Changhuai turned back with a smile, in high spirits, boldly teasing Rong Ye. “Red threads bind fate. Last night I tied down the Immortal Lord. Does that count as us sealing affection today?”

Rong Ye fell silent, lifting his eyes to meet Gu Changhuai’s gaze steadily, then withdrawing without a word, maintaining his aloof, cold demeanor.

Seeing no change in his mood, Gu Changhuai muttered, “Boring.” He leaned back on the windowsill to watch the daytime fireworks.

Faint.

Under the sun, blue sky, and white clouds, they left brilliant trails. His smile was faint too, long lashes lowered. Though watching the fireworks, his gaze seemed to drift into the void, his thoughts far away.

Behind him, unnoticed—

Rong Ye closed his eyes, suppressing a near-mad frenzy surging to burst free. Veins bulged on the back of his hand, but his divine sense slipped out of control, manifesting two threads.

They drifted involuntarily toward the youth lounging lazily by the window, hiding in the wind like boneless tendrils, slickly brushing against the pale, cool side of his neck with its faint smile, and his refined, aloof cheek.

Hm?

Feeling something odd, Gu Changhuai snapped back, subconsciously touching his cheek. A cool sensation had just grazed it, like a hand’s caress.

But a gust of wind had clearly passed by—no one was there.

…Strange.

Gu Changhuai glanced back at Rong Ye. He still sat in place, seemingly meditating with eyes closed, his handsome face stern and unapproachable, surrounded by an aura of sword-like chill.

If there was danger, Rong Ye would sense it first. No need for him to worry… With that, Gu Changhuai stretched lazily and relaxed, leaning back to watch the fireworks again.