These three seats were on the left flank; opposite them sat the Monk Xinjue, clad in yellow monastic robes, who offered Li Muzhan a slight smile and a palms-together gesture when their eyes met.

The two men shared a mutual respect forged during their mutual combat and rescue two days prior.

Below Monk Xinjue sat a young man whose eyebrows slanted sharply toward his temples, resembling twin swords plunged upside down; his phoenix eyes glittered like piercing cold stars, radiating extraordinary vitality.

However, at this moment, the young man’s jade-like face was completely clouded over, his sword-like brows pulled tight, his entire demeanor so gloomy that he seemed about to drip cold water.

Not recognizing him, Li Muzhan turned to look at Wen Yinyue.

Wen Yinyue stated coolly, “Wang Xiaoyao of Penglai Pavilion.”

Li Muzhan nodded and smiled, “So, it is Wang Xiaoyao, known as the Carefree Master.”

During his last visit to the sect, he had diligently studied the recent goings-on in the martial world, familiarizing himself with the outstanding figures of the Seven Great Sects, though he had never met them in person and couldn't immediately place the face.

…………………………

This Wang Xiaoyao was the foremost disciple of Penglai Pavilion, destined to become its master if nothing unexpected occurred; his moniker, the Carefree Master, stemmed from his unsurpassed mastery of qinggong (lightness skill).

Rantuo Temple occupying the head seat on the right side was undeniable.

But having the Canghai Sword Sect take the head seat on the other side meant the other six great sects would surely object; Li Muzhan inwardly shook his head, recognizing the malicious intent behind such an arrangement.

He looked up at Sect Leader Nie, who was gazing back with a broad, warm, and amiable smile.

Li Muzhan inclined his head and smiled back, then swept his gaze around: Wang Xiaoyao of Penglai Pavilion, Murong Hao of the Murong Clan, a youth from Trapped Sky Island, and an elder from the Wang family—all of them were staring intently in his direction.

Li Muzhan could still spare the focus to observe; Murong Hao’s expression was placid, showing no hostility, instead carrying a faint smile, suggesting he held no desire for vengeance on behalf of his elders.

The representatives of these major sects all wore complex expressions, fixing their gaze unwaveringly on this side.

Li Muzhan smiled and said, “Senior Sister, please take your seat.”

Wen Yinyue glanced at him, then surveyed the surroundings without further comment, proceeding directly to the head seat on the left, her manner serene, as if it were her rightful due.

Li Muzhan smiled again, “Junior Sister Li, you too.”

He saw Li Yujiao about to sit in the seat below hers, but Li Yujiao quickly pulled him, “Senior Brother Zhanran, you sit in front of me!”

Without waiting for Li Muzhan to refuse, she quickly claimed the seat ahead of him. Li Muzhan could only sigh helplessly, forced to sit between the two women. “Alas…”

Though pure-hearted, Li Yujiao was clever enough to understand the gravity of seating arrangements; retreating was not an option. Before they came, Li Yunqing had explicitly instructed her that she could concede on anything except her place.

She had expected someone might try to bully her due to her youth and force a confrontation to establish dominance, never anticipating that securing the front seat would be so easy, saving her considerable trouble.

Once the three were seated, the gazes from those around them sharpened noticeably.

…………………………………………, Li Muzhan chuckled and shook his head; people in the martial world were utterly obsessed with ranking and seating precedence; what did they fight and die for? Purely for reputation.

Now, the three of them ostentatiously occupying the head seats implied that after Rantuo Temple, the Canghai Sword Sect ranked second among the Seven Great Sects.

They were naturally unconvinced. Even if the Canghai Sword Sect had somehow obtained the Dragon-Slaying Secret Manual, it wouldn't be mastered overnight, nor would it be safely kept from being seized by others, ensuring it wouldn't fall into the hands of the Canghai Sword Sect so easily.

However, since Li Muzhan had defeated Monk Xinjue, they conceded they were no match for the monk, let alone Li Muzhan; if they truly initiated a disturbance, it would only result in self-humiliation.

Frustrated and unwilling, they could only glare, daring not to vent their anger.

The previous wind and drum sounds gradually faded, replaced by the melodious sound of flutes and strings.

Subsequently, an elder in red robes stood at the doorway, radiating joviality, and announced loudly, “The new couple enters!”

As soon as the words fell, Nie Xuefeng stepped into the great hall, accompanied by a young maiden.

Li Muzhan was unfamiliar with the marital traditions of this era. When his elder brother married his sister-in-law, it hadn't involved so much ceremony; they simply held ten-odd banquets, then his brother took the flower sedan chair to his wife’s home, carried her back in the sedan chair, performed the required rites, and it was done—not complicated at all.

Now, it seemed, things were different; they required an engagement first, then the marriage ceremony, much more elaborate.

According to his Senior Sister Wen Yinyue, only after the engagement could the couple meet; barring any major conflicts, they would marry six months later, with the option to break the engagement if they truly couldn't get along.

Li Muzhan had gaped when he first heard this, as such an unusual custom far exceeded his expectations; he had assumed this era was conservative, but it now seemed far more open-minded than he imagined.

In the ancient times of his own timeline, marriage depended on parental decree and a matchmaker’s word; it was common for the bride and groom not to have met before the wedding, with everything decided by the parents. Marriages were consummated only on the wedding night.

In this era, however, they engaged first, spent half a year together, and married only if compatible—a truly enlightened custom.

Wen Yinyue had added at the time, “However, without major issues, engagements are rarely broken. After all, to break off a formal engagement means there is a significant problem, and finding another partner afterward becomes difficult.”

Li Muzhan had paused to consider this and nodded silently; nothing in this world was entirely perfect.

As the pair proceeded into the hall, the murmuring around them intensified, the discussions growing louder as people stared wide-eyed at the two.

Nie Xuefeng, dressed in a sapphire-blue long robe, looked refined, his face like polished jade, his eyes like bright stars; he stood tall and handsome, like an elegant tree in the wind, commanding admiration even from outsiders.

The other maiden was clad in a brilliant crimson satin gown, exquisite as a flower; her eyebrows were delicately arched, her hair a cloud piled high, her eyes large and bright, her posture graceful as a willow branch swaying gently, truly captivating.

……………………………………………………

Li Muzhan shook his head in admiration. No wonder Nie Xuefeng was pleased; such a gentle, water-like beauty was bound to inspire men to cherish and protect her, wishing to cradle her in their hands.

He glanced across at Wang Xiaoyao and sighed inwardly.

Wang Xiaoyao and the maiden likely shared feelings, yet they were being forcibly separated, destined to be apart despite their connection, leaving the girl to become Nie Xuefeng’s wife.

As the couple drew nearer, Wang Xiaoyao clenched his fists until the veins stood out on the backs of his hands; his body trembled slightly, his handsome features twisting into a grotesque mask as he stared fixedly at the pair.

The maiden kept her eyes lowered, appearing utterly vulnerable, following closely beside Nie Xuefeng as they approached Sect Leader Nie step by measured step.

Viewing the maiden up close, her skin was translucent and fair, flushed with a rosy hue, undeniably alluring. Li Muzhan inwardly lamented Nie Xuefeng’s incredible fortune in love.

The elder standing by the door called out loudly, “The new couple offers tea!”

The pair knelt before Sect Leader Nie. Nie Yinxia picked up the teapot from the side, filled two cups, and handed them to the newlyweds one by one.

Holding the tea cups, they prepared to present them to Sect Leader Nie.

“Hold on!” A sudden, sharp shout rang out, causing pain in everyone’s eardrums. The music abruptly ceased, cutting off mid-note.

The crowd turned to see Wang Xiaoyao slowly standing up, his hands tightly balled into fists, his eyes blazing with fury: “You shall not become engaged!”

Sect Leader Nie narrowed his eyes, stroked his beard, and smiled faintly, “Young Hero Wang, what instruction do you have?”

“They cannot become engaged!” Wang Xiaoyao stepped forward, facing Sect Leader Nie defiantly.

A sharp reprimand came from below: “Young Pavilion Master, step down at once!”

A short, thin elder shot up from a position a dozen chairs away, staring with wide eyes: “Young Pavilion Master, what are you doing? Return to your seat!”

“Martial Uncle He, Fengxia cannot marry him!” Wang Xiaoyao said sternly, fixing his gaze on Nie Xuefeng.

The thin elder stamped his foot furiously: “Young Pavilion Master! This is a match personally arranged by the Sect Leader; it cannot be violated! Apologize immediately to Sect Leader Nie and sit down quietly!”

Wang Xiaoyao shook his head, “No, I will absolutely not give Fengxia away!”

“You are insolent!” the thin elder roared.

Wang Xiaoyao said grimly, “Martial Uncle He, no matter what, Fengxia cannot marry someone else!”

The thin elder’s eyes bulged, and he snorted in anger, “Stop spouting nonsense and sit down now!”

Wang Xiaoyao shook his head, turned away, and declared, “Fengxia is mine!”

Nie Xuefeng’s face turned ashen. He turned to look at the maiden; she kept her head bowed, perfectly still.

He said stiffly, “Miss He, what is going on!?”

The maiden raised her eyes to look at him briefly, then lowered them again, tears welling in her eyes, looking exquisitely pitiable. Nie Xuefeng faltered, then turned to glare at Wang Xiaoyao.

Wang Xiaoyao sneered, “Fengxia was mine originally. Nie Xuefeng, if you must marry, find someone else!”

……………………………………………………………………, Nie Xuefeng’s face was ashen, and he spoke coldly, “Wang Xiaoyao, you are courting death!”

The enmity of a murdered father and the grievance of a stolen wife were irreconcilable; his fury surged like a tide, engulfing him. He reached for his waist but found nothing there.

Today was a day of celebration; he was unarmed.

Wang Xiaoyao sneered, “Nie Xuefeng, you want to fight?”

“Silence!” Sect Leader Nie roared suddenly, a sound like a thunderclap that momentarily dimmed the vision of everyone present, forcing them to quickly circulate their inner energy.

Sect Leader Nie stood up, his eyes blazing like lightning, coldly scanning the two men: “You two don’t mind losing face, but I do! Elder He, what is the meaning of this?!”

The thin elder offered a bitter smile, bowing apologetically with cupped fists, “Sect Leader Nie, please forgive my anger. The Young Pavilion Master and the young lady have been childhood sweethearts; perhaps the sudden separation has made him unaccustomed, so…”

“Childhood sweethearts! Hmph, a fine ‘childhood sweetheart’!” Sect Leader Nie shook his head.

The thin elder quickly interjected, “Sect Leader Nie, please do not misunderstand; the two only share a sibling affection!”

Sect Leader Nie observed the maiden standing with her head down, then looked at Wang Xiaoyao and Nie Xuefeng glaring at each other, sighing, “With such an incident occurring, I truly have no face to meet anyone!”

“Sect Leader Nie, please calm your anger, this is a misunderstanding!” the thin elder hurried to say.

He quickly strode forward several steps to Wang Xiaoyao’s side and tried to pull him away, but Wang Xiaoyao stood rooted to the ground like a pillar, completely unmoving.

The thin elder’s face darkened as he suppressed his rage, “Young Pavilion Master, are you truly going to jeopardize the reputation of our Penglai Pavilion over a private affair of the heart?!”

Wang Xiaoyao jutted out his neck and grunted, “I cannot let Fengxia marry him!”

“You… you!” The thin elder’s face turned sickly green, his teeth grinding audibly.

Wang Xiaoyao turned away from him, staring fixedly at the maiden, gritting his teeth as he spoke fiercely, “Fengxia is mine! No one will take her away!”