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“Don’t you regret not inviting me?” Shi Qing Xuan says as she dusts rouge over Xie Lian’s cheeks. “How else would you have gotten ready for your special day?”Xie Lian smiles. “Ah, but you invited yourself, so it’s okay.”“Xie Lian!”“I know you are capable of securing any invitation you wish to secure,” she says. “No door is closed to you.”Shi Qing Xuan takes Xie Lian’s chin into her hand, turning her head toward the light. “Flattering, if untrue.”The bridal dress is lying over the chair, silk in a red richer than maple leaves. This is nothing like the first time she let Hua Cheng draw her forth from a bridal sedan, and yet it is the same. She knows Hua Cheng will hold her hand just as delicately, that she will shield Xie Lian’s head from the world with her umbrella the same way that she did on Mount Yu Jun. Hua Cheng would come for Xie Lian anywhere, but this time, Xie Lian will go to her.Gold embroidery twines over the top of Xie Lian’s dress, then down the panels that hang down over her skirt—flowers over her shoulders, dragon over her chest, sword at her hip. RuoYe’s white silk shines beneath the red bell sleeves. It’s been a long time since Xie Lian wore anything so fine. Shi Qing Xuan drapes a veil of silk so sheer that it’s only a warm haze over Xie Lian’s vision. “Look at you. Now you look like a god.”Xie Lian meets Shi Qing Xuan’s gaze steadily until Shi Qing Xuan lowers her eyes. “I always look like a god,” Xie Lian says lightly. “Today, I look like a bride.”The bridal sedan is Hua Cheng’s step litter, which was already more extravagant than any sedan Xie Lian might have desired. The crimson curtains are unchanged, but the wicker chair is covered in heavy brocade and padded with soft cushions in red-and-gold. Matching livery is draped over its skeletal attendants, who crow with delight when they see Shi Qing Xuan carrying Xie Lian on her back toward the litter. “The bride, the bride!” they chant. “The Crown Princess of Xian Le is here! Lord Chengzhu is waiting for you.”“Oh, I know he is,” Shi Qing Xuan says as she heaves Xie Lian into the chair, veil fluttering. “There, I’ve done my part for good luck, not that you need my help with that.”Xie Lian smiles. “No, I suppose not.”Ghosts surround them, carrying lanterns and singing cheerful songs that seem inappropriate to their state. Shi Qing Xuan's hair whips in the infernal wind. “Wishing you eternal good companionship!” Beside her, a dragon comes into view, its festive limbs swinging above feet of bare bone.“Thank you,” Xie Lian says as Shi Qing Xuan pulls shut the curtains to conceal anything unlucky from Xie Lian’s view.Of course, there’s nothing unluckier in this life than Xie Lian herself—she rolls snake eyes every time. If such things balanced out, between Xie Lian and her San Lang there would be only even chance, no luck in play all. Xie Lian leans back into the chair that is a little big for one, not quite big enough for two, and doesn’t dwell on superstition. Her body sinks into the soft cushions of the chair and the sinister procession beneath her strides forward like rippling water beneath a boat. She’s as tense as a taut string, even though they’ve done all of this before: hair tied around each other’s wrists, the descent from the sedan, and even the proposal—Jie jie, want to get married? right in this chair. RuoYe tights around her, its warm pressure a comfort, and Xie Lian strokes it reassuringly. There’s no fear here, only anticipation—her groom is more powerful than any superstition, than any curse.Today, Hua Cheng’s red is a bridal red. Her tunic is rich silk heavy with ghost needlework, her hair smoothed to fall around her face. In her male form, she approaches the step litter. “Happy marriage, my lord!” the skeletons shout as they lower it to the ground. “MAY YOU ALWAYS RESPECT EACH OTHER LIKE HONORED GUESTS, MAY YOU ALWAYS SEE HEART TO HEART—”“Enough of that,” Hua Cheng says, the corner of her mouth curving up. Through the veil, her eyes meet Xie Lian’s. A shiver runs up Xie Lian’s spine. “San Lang,” she says, extending her hand. Oh, this is so different from that night on the mountain. Hua Cheng’s gaze drops to Xie Lian’s lips, and Xie Lian’s mouth goes hot with anticipation. “Dianxia,” Hua Cheng says. “Let’s be wed.”Xie Lian nearly stumbles on the threshold of the litter, but Hua Cheng catches her. “Ah, I’m fine!” she says, blushing.Gently, Hua Cheng sets Xie Lian upright. “I know you are.” She leans in again, her mouth a breath away from Xie Lian’s lips. “Come. I’m impatient to make you my wife.”The street behind them melts away as they cross through the hidden gate of QianDeng temple, and when Xie Lian glances up, so has Hua Cheng’s guise. She’s no shorter as a woman, but her jaw is rounder, her cheeks smoother. Her lips are equally soft; Xie Lian has confirmed this after thorough examination. Bright light pulls her attention back to their surroundings. Above them, around them, the temple is alight with Blessings Lanterns of Everlasting Light. “Three thousand?” Xie Lian’s voice wavers. “Again?”Hua Cheng smiles. “Eight hundred and eighty eight.” Even better: an auspicious number.“This is so much, San Lang.”“Do you think I’d let our marriage go uncelebrated in the heavens? Or you?”“Ah,” Xie Lian says helplessly, and Hua Cheng squeezes her hand.Slowly, they approach the temple. There’s still very little inside—no statue or painting to venerate, and why would Hua Cheng need one when she has Xie Lian herself? It would be very odd to get married before a statue of herself, Xie Lian feels, or anyone she knows. This is much better, even if it’s she herself who consecrates the rite and hears their vows.“Three bows,” Hua Cheng says as they come to a stop before the altar. “That’s it.”Xie Lian can’t help but laugh, even though she ought to be solemn. “You are already mine, and I’m yours. That’s no little thing.”“True.” Hua Cheng looks down at her, and oh, her eyes are glossy with tears. Xie Lian doesn’t want to let go of her hand to bow. “I’m impatient, too,” she says. “Please, San Lang. Be sealed to me forever.”Three bows. The heavens and the earth, their families, each other. Each heady with memory and meaning. All Xie Lian can think of, as she bends, is Hua Cheng—her third realm, the family she’s chosen, the one she loves. The invisible red string between them tightens as she rises from the third bow. Xie Lian steps toward her groom—her wife, her wife!—and Hua Cheng swoops Xie Lian up into her arms, bending down to kiss her. Hua Cheng’s mouth is warm and her cheeks are wet with tears and Xie Lian feels like she must be shining like a lantern. She opens her mouth and lets Hua Cheng inside, shivering with delight, and then desire. “My San Lang,” she says, pressing closer. “My wife.”Hua Cheng’s hand comes up to the nape of Xie Lian’s neck, thumb teasing at the sensitive skin beneath her ear, and then digging into the masses of her hair, still secured by a constellation of pins and combs. “Always yours.”