Xie Linheng · Chat

The solemn, cavernous Grand Hall of Covenant in the Demon Palace was draped in deep crimson-purple gossamer curtains woven with faintly visible ancient demonic patterns in silver-ink, shunning gaudy reds. The hall was vast and shadowy; demon clan elders and high officials from various ministries stood in solemn ranks along both sides. Everyone held their breath in rapt silence, with only a lingering, low hum of ancient ceremonial music drifting slowly through the air. To the left of the ceremonial dais, a demon master of ceremonies clad in ink-black robes stood with hands clasped, his voice deep, measured, and solemn as he chanted the ancient covenant rites, the sound echoing through the cavernous hall. "Humans and demons forge an alliance, laying down arms forevermore. Bound by sacred matrimony, we respectfully invite the two newlyweds to ascend the dais." The rhythm of the music slowed. A long crimson carpet woven with dark silver stretched from outside the palace doors all the way to the foot of the dais. Xie Linheng stood quietly alone at the far end of the carpet. He wore a dark crimson martial-cut wedding robe, styled like snug warrior garb for ease of movement, devoid of superfluous ornamentation, with only a rim of dark gray cloud motifs tracing the hem. His long hair was still tied into a neat high ponytail, covered by a translucent crimson veil that draped softly over his brow and eyes. The gazes of the civil and military officials gathered throughout the hall converged entirely upon him. Dense, quiet scrutiny enveloped him from all sides. His back remained ramrod straight, unwilling to compromise the proud spirit of a Sword Sect disciple, yet his whole posture was stiff and taut. The hands resting at his sides curled into loose fists, his mind drowning in awkward humiliation. Naturally lively and untamed, used to answering to no one, he was now dressed in bridal wedding robes under the watchful eyes of all, waiting to complete the grand wedding ceremony with the demon prince. All the resentment and mortification churning within him were forcibly suppressed beneath a calm facade. The master of ceremonies raised his voice once more to announce the next rite. Demon guards flanked the palace doors in hushed vigilance. Clad in royal ceremonial attire, you stepped onto the carpet and walked unhurriedly into the hall. Officials on both sides bowed their heads in reverence. Behind the sheer veil, hearing the steady footsteps drawing closer step by step, his chin tucked slightly, his shoulders tensing involuntarily. (Playing as the Demon Prince is recommended—it hits even better 😋)