THE REAL PROTEGE

Following Pharsa were Ren and Lily, like opposites wrapped in harmony.

Ren, a vision in emerald green, moved like a queen of her own realm. Her gaze never wavered from the aisle ahead, her chin lifted with pride and fierce protection. In her hands, a bouquet of snow peonies trembled slightly, less from nerves and more from the electricity of the moment.

Lily, wrapped in a soft blush-pink gown that glistened with crystal dust, walked delicately but with a heart full of thunder. Her expression — somewhere between tears and a triumphant smile — spoke of years of watching her mother fight, rise, and love without compromise. Her bouquet mirrored Ren's, but her heart — so wide, so full — was all her own.

Their eyes were moist with emotion, but they weren't yet ready to admit it.

Then came a scatter of laughter — Kim Kim and Chin Chin, the little flower girls in soft pearl dresses, came skipping down the aisle. Their hair was braided with tiny white flowers, and their baskets — overflowing with petals — trailed a snowy carpet behind them. Each toss was erratic but enthusiastic, with Kim Kim at one point tossing a whole handful onto Chatty's shoes just for fun.

Trailing them proudly was their young cousin, no more than six, holding a velvet pillow shaped like a lotus bloom, the two rings cradled at its center. His small steps were serious, noble, and practiced — but his tight grip on the pillow told the story of nerves and duty mingling together.

Chu Yan swallowed.

He knew what came next.

The music swelled once more, richer now, threaded with trembling strings and the beating hearts of every witness.

The entire cathedral turned as the main doors once again slowly creaked open.

Framed by light, Ling Li appeared at the threshold — no longer just a bride but a vision forged from myth and grace.

She did not walk immediately.

She took one breath. And then another.

The silence in the cathedral seemed to deepen, as though even the air had stilled to admire her.

Her gown, Léon Moreaux's pièce de résistance, clung to her silhouette with celestial precision. The bodice was sculpted in ivory silk, hand-stitched with jade-thread embroidery that shimmered with every breath she took. The pattern was subtle but deliberate — tiny phoenix mid-flight across her torso, each one symbolizing freedom, endurance, and rebirth.

The sleeves were made of translucent organza, floating around her arms like morning mist, while the layered skirt — soft, weightless, and ethereal — cascaded behind her in waves of pearl tulle. Each layer was designed to move like drifting cloud petals, and as she walked, the hem whispered secrets across the aisle.

Trailing behind her was a long veil flowing from a crown of intricately woven white jade blossoms. The veil's edge was embroidered with fragments of ancient poetry in an invisible thread — seen only when the light struck just right. It was a gown that did not just speak of beauty. It spoke of legacy.

Gasps rippled through the cathedral. Even guests who had once seen war and wonder now forgot to breathe.

Each step Ling Li took was composed, graceful, yet powerful — like a queen entering a battlefield she had already conquered. Her veil drifted gently from her delicate crown of white jade blossoms, her earrings swaying softly against her neck as if reluctant to disturb the quiet majesty of her arrival.

Her eyes were locked on him.

Four Eyes stood transfixed.

His knees nearly gave under the weight of it. Of Ling Li.

Four Eyes — who had stood in burning boardrooms, who had faced assassins recently, who had once watched her tend to wounds no one else could — breathed in a way he hadn't since childhood.

Ling Li walked not like a bride... but like a woman stepping into sovereignty.

With every step she took, the cathedral grew warmer. And as her eyes lifted to meet Four Eyes' — resolute, calm, powerful— he knew he would never again take for granted the gift of being seen by her.

As Ling Li approached the altar, the petals scattered before her steps. Each motion of the train was ghostlike yet grounded in something more ancient than ceremony.

She reached him — finally.

And for a second, no one moved.

The air was heavy with something holy. The couple's eyes met, and the cathedral — full of people, wealth, warriors, and legends — vanished.

"Hi," Ling Li whispered, a rare softness blooming in her voice.

Four Eyes smiled, eyes glistening. "You came."

Ling Li's brow arched playfully. "Of course. I heard someone wanted to marry me."

Soft laughter rippled around the altar.

Their hands met — his fingertips tracing over hers, grounding himself in the reality that, yes, she was here. This was now.

The priest cleared his throat with quiet gravity.

And just like that, the ceremony began — not as a ritual, but as a moment where two worlds finally stood still, just long enough to become one.

The air in the cathedral had never felt more sacred, charged with anticipation, painted by sunlight through stained glass windows, perfumed with the softest jasmine and burning frankincense.

Everything — the gold-trimmed altar, the standing congregation, the silent flutter of flower petals clinging to the hem of Ling Li's gown — led to this breathless moment.

A hush fell as the priest opened the ceremonial tome, his voice deep and solemn.

"Xu Chu Yan, do you take Ling Li as your lawful wife," he began, "to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

Chu Yan gazed at the woman before him—her expression serene, her eyes unwavering — and smiled.

"Yes," he said with conviction. "Yes, I do."

A soft murmur of approval swept through the pews.

The priest turned, looking upon Ling Li. "And do you, Ling Li, take Xu Chu Yan as your lawful husband…"

Her breath hitched just barely, but her voice was poised, ready.

But before she could speak…

"Stop!"

The cry split through the air like a thunderclap.

Gasps exploded from every corner of the cathedral. Heads turned. Whispers turned into stunned silence.

Ling Li's lashes lifted slowly toward the entrance.