Snatching the Bride

“Master Fan? Is it truly you?”
Zhao Xinying could hardly believe her eyes.
She rushed forward and embraced him tightly.
“Uh! Uh…”
“Miss Zhao, isn’t this a bit inappropriate?”
Fan Qiuming cleared his throat as he spoke.
Only then did she realize her forwardness and hurriedly let go, a tear almost slipping from her eye.
“Master Fan, why are you here? I thought you had already left.”
Fan Qiuming was momentarily speechless, unsure how to respond.
He was about to find an excuse when Yunling interjected.
“The master got lost outside the city, so we came back to buy a map. Just as we entered, Master Zhao asked us to rescue you.”
“Yunling…”
Fan Qiuming clenched his fist and gave her a gentle knock on the head.
“Ouch… Master, I didn’t say anything wrong!”
“Who told you to spill everything?”
Fan Qiuming’s face flushed with embarrassment; he had returned only because he was lost outside the city.
Hearing this, Zhao Xinying covered her mouth and smiled, all her previous displeasure vanishing.
“And who is this?”
She was curious about Yunling’s identity.
“Yunling is the master’s mobile transformed into a human form, serving as his personal attendant.”
Fan Qiuming gave her another gentle knock when he heard this.
“Ouch… Master is bullying me…”
“Don’t listen to her nonsense, just consider her a follower,” Fan Qiuming explained.
“You two are quite amusing.”
Watching them, Zhao Xinying felt a slight pang of loss, but remembering why Fan Qiuming was here, she asked,
“Master Fan, are you here to take me away?”
“Of course, unless you think I’m just sightseeing.”
Fan Qiuming shrugged.
“Or if you wish to marry that fool, I wouldn’t mind.”
“I most certainly do not…”
Zhao Xinying exclaimed, startling Fan Qiuming.
“Don’t be so worked up—it was a joke.”
“Marriage is no laughing matter. Besides, you owe me a favor, and I must collect it.”
Zhao Xinying’s anger melted into a smile as she seized his arm.
“Now is the time for you to repay your debt.”
Gone was the haughty demeanor of the young lady; now she seemed just an ordinary girl.
“Since I’m here, I won’t run away…”
Fan Qiuming had barely finished speaking when a commotion sounded outside.
“What happened? Why are you all unconscious at the door?”
…
“Quick, you must hide!”
Zhao Xinying urged Fan Qiuming as she heard the disturbance outside.
Without hesitation, he grabbed Yunling and leapt onto the beam above.

The next moment, the door to the room burst open. Zhao Xinying quickly adopted a look of remorse, her transformation as swift as a mask change in Sichuan opera.
The guards entered, scanning the room as if searching for something.
“Search everywhere!”
A group of guards stormed in, rifling through the room before turning to address Zhao Xinying.
“Behave yourself. Marrying into the Wang family is your fortune—don’t be ungrateful. Let’s go!”
With that, the guards left.
Fan Qiuming waited until they departed before jumping down from the beam, brushing dust from his clothes.
Yunling shook her hair, nearly covered in dust herself.
“Master Fan, how will you take me away?”
Since things had reached this point, Zhao Xinying spoke frankly.
“If we slip away secretly, the Wang family will never let it rest. Only if we defeat them outright will they dare not trouble us again.”
Fan Qiuming stroked his chin, pondering for a moment.
“Master, why not storm the wedding and seize the bride directly?”
Yunling suggested.
“Seize the bride?”
Both echoed at once.
“How would that work?”
Fan Qiuming asked first.
“Like this—whisper, whisper—and then, like that—whisper, whisper…”
Yunling whispered a long explanation, and Fan Qiuming nodded in approval.
“That could work. Let’s do it.”
Zhao Xinying watched their secret plotting, curious about the details.
“Miss Zhao, does the Wang family have cultivators? If so, what level are they?”
Fan Qiuming inquired.
“I’m not sure, but certainly no higher than the fifth stage of Qi Refining—and they’re just hired hands.”
Zhao Xinying replied.
“The fifth stage of Qi Refining? That’s manageable. Wait here—I’ll rescue you.”
Fan Qiuming said, turning to leave the room.
“Wait for me. I promise I’ll come back for you.”
With that, Fan Qiuming and Yunling slipped out quietly, leaving Zhao Xinying alone.
“Master Fan, I’ll wait for you…”
She stared dazedly at the door, then returned to sit before her dressing table.
Later that afternoon, guests began arriving at the Wang residence, greeted warmly by the servants.
Master Zhao, unable to rest easy, came as well. He had initially declined the Wang family’s invitation, unwilling to attend the wedding.
But concern for his daughter led him there; upon not seeing Fan Qiuming, he grew anxious.
“Why isn’t Master Fan here? Oh, how it worries me.”
“It’s true—I had a chance for a good match right before me, but I failed to cherish it. My arrogance has put Xinying in this predicament.”
Just then, the second son of the Wang family arrived at the hall, a red ball pinned to his chest. He stood there foolishly, needing servants to guide his steps.
Some guests stifled laughter, others shook their heads in pity.
Only Master Zhao clenched his fists, longing to tear the boy apart—how could such a fool aspire to marry his daughter?
“Bring in the bride…”
With the groom ready, the Wang servants shouted.
Outside, supported by the matchmaker, Zhao Xinying entered in full bridal attire, her head covered by a red veil.
When bride and groom stood together, sudden chaos erupted.
A bolt of lightning crashed down among the crowd, sending guests scattering in fright.
Dark clouds rolled in overhead, thunder rumbling, as if the lightning was just the beginning.

“Everyone, don’t panic—just a minor lightning strike, nothing to worry about. Please continue with my son’s wedding.”
Master Wang quickly rose to calm the guests as he saw their alarm.
“Continue with the ceremony!”
Beneath the red veil, Zhao Xinying’s heart raced with anxiety.
“At such a moment, Master Fan still hasn’t appeared.”
The ceremonial host called out, “The auspicious hour has arrived—please, the bride and groom, enter the hall.”
With servants supporting them, the pair slowly entered the reception hall.
“Paint a scene of mandarin ducks playing in water, brush a canvas where red beans bloom on every branch.
Speak not of the moon above the western tower, nor the lamp's glow counting the stars;
Speak not of the plantain’s rain, nor the candle’s ink that drips and drips.
On this glorious day, woven with mandarin ducks…”
“I do not consent to this marriage!”
The host had not finished his blessing when a voice, heavy with authority, echoed from above the hall.
“Outrageous! Who dares disrupt my son’s wedding?”
Master Wang leaped to his feet, furious.
“Who? Show yourself—I want to see who dares such insolence!”
“It’s me!”
Suddenly, lightning struck the hall’s roof, tearing a hole through which a figure appeared. The dust was so thick that none could see clearly.
The sudden spectacle caused a stir among the guests, all rising to watch.
Under her veil, Zhao Xinying’s heart leapt—“Could it be Master Fan?”
When the dust settled, they saw the man—his face hidden behind a fox spirit mask.
He hovered in mid-air, left hand behind his back, right hand pointing a sword at Master Wang.
“I say I do not consent—do you take issue with that?”
He unleashed a wave of sword energy at Master Wang, who dodged back but was still struck, sent sprawling to the center of the hall at the stranger’s feet.
The guests hurriedly retreated, fearing the chaos, while Master Zhao was filled with elation.
“Wonderful! Master Fan has come—my Xinying is saved.”
He watched the scene with delight.
“I say I do not consent—do you have any objections?”
He asked, every word heavy with meaning, gazing at Master Wang lying at his feet.
“A… a cultivator? Walking on air…”
Only a cultivator of at least the Core Formation stage could walk on air. Their own hired hands, mere Qi Refining novices, stood no chance—not that they’d risk their lives for the family anyway.
“No… no, no objections.”
Even if he had objections, he’d never dare voice them—unless he wished for death.
“Master… hurry, Yunling can barely hold on!”
A voice, audible only to Fan Qiuming, came from the roof. If one looked closely, they’d see several thin ropes behind him, barely visible.
“No objections? Good. Today I’ve come to claim the bride—Miss Zhao has caught my eye. Master Wang, will you graciously let her go?”
“If you wish for her, it is her good fortune. We would never dare to oppose you, nor have any objections.”
Master Wang bowed and nodded to Fan Qiuming, nearly prostrating himself.
“Very well…”
Fan Qiuming sheathed his sword into his ring, and with a wave of his right hand, an invisible force drew Zhao Xinying to him. He wrapped her in his arms.
“Now, I take my leave—until we meet again!”
With that, Fan Qiuming prepared to depart, his body rising slowly, pausing now and then.
The eldest son of the Wang family, watching closely, noticed something was amiss.