The Ruoxie ribbon quietly coiled in his hand, ready to strike at any moment. If the newcomer showed even a hint of murderous intent, it would immediately retaliate tenfold with wild ferocity.

However, instead of the sudden attack and killing intent he was expecting, something else happened.

The curtain of the bridal sedan was gently lifted, and through the gap beneath the bright red bridal veil, William Carter saw the newcomer extend a hand toward him.

The fingers were slender and well-defined. A red string was tied around the third finger, appearing like a vivid thread of fate on that long, pale hand.

Author’s note: No spoilers about the identity of the gong. You can guess, but you probably won’t get it right.

Ruoxie (ye) ribbon.

Chapter 8: The Ghostly Wedding—The Crown Prince Boards the Bridal Sedan

To give, or not to give?

William Carter remained calm, still undecided whether to continue sitting there, unmoved like a mountain, or to feign the timid panic of a new bride and shrink back. Yet the owner of that hand was patient and graceful; if he didn’t move, the other didn’t move either, as if simply waiting for his answer.

After a moment, almost as if compelled by fate, William Carter reached out his hand.

He stood up, intending to lift the curtain and step out, but the other person was a step ahead, raising the red curtain for him. The newcomer took his hand, but not too tightly, as if afraid of hurting him, giving the impression of careful gentleness.

William Carter lowered his head and let himself be led slowly out of the sedan. Glancing down, he saw the corpse of a wolf strangled by the Ruoxie ribbon at his feet. With a quick thought, he stumbled slightly, letting out a startled gasp as he fell forward.

The newcomer immediately caught him with a swift, reversed grip.

As William Carter grasped back, he felt something cold—turns out, the newcomer was wearing a pair of silver bracers.

The bracers were ornate and exquisite, with ancient patterns carved into them: maple leaves, butterflies, and fierce beasts, all quite mysterious and unlike anything from the Central Plains—more like relics from a foreign tribe. They fit snugly around the wrist, looking sharp and efficient.

Cold silver, pale hands—utterly lifeless, yet exuding a hint of murderous and sinister energy.

His stumble had been a deliberate act, a test. The Ruoxie ribbon had been quietly coiling under the wide sleeve of his wedding robe, ready to strike. Yet the newcomer simply held his hand and led him forward.

William Carter, partly blinded by the bridal veil and partly stalling for time, deliberately walked very slowly. The other person matched his pace, also moving slowly, and would occasionally reach out with the other hand to steady him, as if afraid he might fall again. Despite William Carter’s extreme vigilance, he couldn’t help but think, “If this really were a groom, he’d be the epitome of gentleness and care.”

At that moment, he suddenly heard a light, tinkling sound. With every step they took, the clear chime rang out. As he wondered what it was, the low, suppressed growls of wild beasts suddenly echoed around them.

Wolves!

William Carter tensed, and the Ruoxie ribbon tightened around his wrist.

But before he could act, the person holding his hand gently patted the back of it twice, as if to reassure him, telling him not to worry. The touch was so gentle it could only be described as tender. William Carter was momentarily stunned, and the growling subsided. Listening closely, he realized the wolves weren’t growling—they were whimpering.

It was the sound of wild beasts, terrified to the extreme, paralyzed, and struggling in their final moments.

His curiosity about the newcomer only grew stronger. He wanted to lift the veil and take a look, but knew it would be inappropriate, so he could only peer through the gap beneath the red veil, catching glimpses. All he could see was the hem of a red robe. Beneath it, a pair of black leather boots walked at an unhurried pace.

The little black boots were laced tightly, above them a pair of long, straight legs—graceful in motion. On the side of the boots hung two delicate silver chains, which jingled with every step, producing a crisp, pleasant sound.

The gait was casual and light, almost like a youth’s. Yet every step was confident, as if nothing could stand in his way. Anyone who dared block his path would be crushed to dust. Because of this, William Carter couldn’t quite tell what kind of person this was.

Just as he was lost in thought, something white and bone-like suddenly caught his eye on the ground.

It was a skullcap.

William Carter paused for a moment.

He immediately noticed something was off about the way the skull was placed. It was clearly part of a formation—if triggered, the entire array would attack at once. But judging by the youth’s stride, he didn’t seem to notice it at all. William Carter was debating whether to warn him when a sharp, sickening crack sounded, and the youth stepped right on the skullcap, crushing it to powder in an instant.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he calmly walked over the pile of bone dust.

William Carter: “……”

He had actually, with a single step, turned the entire formation into a heap of useless powder…