At Sun Wukong's reminder, Chen Wei immediately led the grand wedding procession into Guanjiangkou.
Gongs and drums thundered, and celestial music swirled through the air.
According to mortal wedding customs, when the groom arrived, the bride should be sitting quietly in her boudoir beneath a red veil, waiting for him. That was what Chen Wei had expected too. He had been ready to take his wife's hand and happily head home.
But what happened instead?
The moment the procession entered Guanjiangkou, every immortal froze.
Good heavens!
As far as the eye could see, from the courtyard all the way to the mountains behind Guanjiangkou, brides in scarlet wedding robes and red mandarin-duck veils stood in orderly ranks amid the clouds and mist.
A breeze swept past, setting all those wedding robes fluttering at once. The sight was magnificent.
"They're all Chan'er?" Chen Wei's scalp prickled. At first, he thought these were merely crude glamours, perhaps conjured by lesser demons, so he immediately gathered his divine sense and swept it across the formation of brides.
He would have been better off not looking. That single sweep chilled him to the core.
The auras and magic power fluctuations his divine sense reported were all identical!
There wasn't the slightest trace of demonic energy. Every one of them was Yang Chan.
This was trouble.
Which one should he take?
What if he chose wrong and lifted the veil on his wedding night, only for some Mount Mei monster to jump out? How could he bear that?
The immortals in the wedding procession began murmuring among themselves. Zhu Bajie, lurking at the rear, was practically drooling onto his belly. Rubbing his hands, he muttered, "My, my, the groom's truly blessed today. Beautiful brides covering every hill and valley! If he takes them all home,