If he let go of Liu Ruyan's hand and walked over alone, then his declaration back on Changqing Peak—"You are the mistress of my Changqing Peak"—would become an enormous joke.
But if he refused to go and slighted Xuanyuan Xiaoyu in front of so many people, it would not merely cost him face. It would also damage the delicate relationship between Shushan and the Jiuzhou Divine Dynasty.
Liu Ruyan's fingers stirred gently in his palm.
She did not pull free. Instead, she tightened her grip.
Chen Changqing felt her support, and the irritation in his heart suddenly subsided.
What was there to fear?
A true man acted with a clear conscience, asking for nothing more.
He drew a deep breath and did something no one had expected.
Rather than releasing her hand, he led Liu Ruyan forward, step by step, meeting Xuanyuan Xiaoyu's gaze as he approached the magnificent golden flying boat.
His steps were steady, each one seeming to land upon the onlookers' heartbeats.
Liu Ruyan walked beside him, her white dress and his white robes mingling in the mountain breeze, like a perfectly matched pair of jade figures.
Without a doubt, this scene was a silent declaration.
Before the Mountain Gate, the disciples guarding the mountain stared, dumbstruck.
The Holy Son... wasn't he being a little too bold?
At the bow of the flying boat, Xuanyuan Xiaoyu's flawless face betrayed no change in emotion.
Yet the air around her seemed to freeze into ice beneath her silence.
Holding Liu Ruyan's hand, Chen Changqing walked until he was a hundred feet from the flying boat before stopping.
He looked up at Xuanyuan Xiaoyu on the bow and forced out a smile he considered reasonably friendly.
"Third Princess, you've come a long way. Whatever the matter is, perhaps we could..."