LilyBell’s sense of direction outshone Lingcai’s, like a swallow finding its nest.

Not exactly elite, but she still guided the three of them to the North Azure Cathedral’s front steps.

The North Azure Cathedral, largest since the Brunkia Era, loomed like a city of stone.

It lived up to its reputation—vast halls, many chapels, and rents most folk couldn’t shoulder, heavy as loaded carts.

“…I think 50,000 a day is a no-go…”

Staring at the price list posted by the doors, Scarlet Leaf faltered, like a bird meeting a glass wall.

“Come on, we’ve come this far—let’s treat it as sightseeing, then go.”

Lingcai’s smile went rigid, like ice under sudden sun, and she nudged Scarlet Leaf inside.

Times like this, she felt the gulf in spending power between city folk and country folk, wide as a river mouth.

Fifty thousand a day was only the floor.

On top came all kinds of wedding packages; her rough math hit nearly a hundred thousand for full service, a stack like bricks.

A city wedding here could buy a home back in Qiuerde, snug as a warm brick nest.

The cathedral’s finish whispered luxury at every turn, like silk draped over stone.

Stained glass covered a dozen walls, a mosaic ocean catching light like fish scales.

The main hall opened like a plaza, and in its heart stood a Twin Goddess statue, back to back like mirrored moons.

Sunlight through glass spilled in colored bands, rippling over marble like wind on water.

At their feet rose a five-tier marble fountain, stepping up like petals.

As a signature of the North Azure Cathedral, it hid a Brunkia-era alchemical mechanism, a heart that listened.

It changed height with the volume around it, and shifted shapes as voices bent tone and timbre, like water learning to dance.

Kids loved it for that trick, like playing with rain. Adults—well, you can imagine.

As a famed spot, it pulled tourists in like a tide.

Devout believers went deeper to the chapels, prayers rising like incense.

This crushed Scarlet Leaf’s old idea of churches—no cold hush, but a bustle like a market fair.

“This is the gap between a world city and a third-tier town…”

Scarlet Leaf sighed, spirits sinking like a kite with no wind.

Lingcai tried to soothe her. “It’s fine. This place’s an exception. Even folks in the royal capital can’t always afford this.”

LilyBell didn’t care for the décor. Her eyes fixed on the sound-reactive fountain, bright as a cat at a string.

“Ah—ee—woo—eh—oh—”

She copied the kids crowding the statue, tossing sounds like pebbles, watching the water change shape.

Just then, a robed orchestra rushed past, cleric-white sleeves fluttering, instruments clutched like oars—trombones, trumpets, violins, cellos.

They hurried toward the second hall, their stride in lockstep, crisp as a drilled phalanx.

Scarlet Leaf stared after them, eyes wide as full moons, until they vanished.

She kept that wide-eyed look and murmured, like recalling a price tag carved into bone: “That’s the Saint Choir ensemble from the 89,999 silver-crown package.”

No wonder—she had read the board at the door, bleeding-heart, word by word like chewing glass.

Lingcai could only comfort her. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll have money someday. We’ll hire a band too.”

Her words barely settled when a seven-tier cream cake tower rolled in through the doors, stacked like wedding clouds, half a floor tall.

To keep the shape, clear square panels boxed it in, a crystal cage carried by seven or eight burly men, moving like porters with porcelain.

“Make a path, please! Sorry! Please make a path!”

A master of ceremonies in full dress trotted behind, calling out while handing out little gift envelopes sealed with gold cord, bright as autumn leaves.

“Sorry for the trouble! Please let it through! A small token for you—today’s Duke Prine’s great day, share the joy!”

Scarlet Leaf’s tone turned lemon-sour in a blink. “That’s the seven-layer cream-and-fruit cake included in the 58,888 package.”

“I’ll buy you one next time,” Lingcai blurted, nerves fraying like thread. “It’s just cake. We’ll order an identical one at home.”

She was about to snap. All she prayed was that nothing else came along to jab Scarlet Leaf’s nerves, like thorns under cloth.

The emcee shepherded the cake into the second hall. Soon, he came back out, anxious eyes scanning like a hawk seeking a perch.

He spotted Lingcai and Scarlet Leaf from afar. His face lit up like a lantern, and he hustled over.

The wedding emcee looked twenty-something, wearing a white cleric’s robe. Gold ripples edged his sleeves.

Tassels draped his shoulders like rain lines—more ornate than the rest.

“Excuse me! You two ladies over there! Do you have any plans in the next half hour?”

He waved as he jogged over, breath quick, like a runner chasing time.

“Huh? What—”

Lingcai blinked, confused. He reached them and explained, chest heaving like bellows:

“Sorry to bother you. The bridesmaid for Duke Prine’s wedding had an accident on the way. We need a substitute fast.”

“I think this young lady has great presence. If you’re free, would you fill in as bridesmaid?”

“It’ll only take half an hour, a blink of a lantern. You’ll be paid afterward, silver like moonlight.”

Lingcai and Scarlet Leaf traded looks, minds a swirl like leaves in wind.

Then Lingcai spoke first. “Well… Leaf, you go. We’re not busy. Treat it as soaking up the mood.”

Scarlet Leaf waved both hands, flustered like sparrows. “No, no. I’ve never seen a scene this big. I don’t even know what a bridesmaid does.”

The emcee realized they misunderstood. He shook his head at Scarlet Leaf, quick as a bell. “No, not you. You’re a bit tall.”

“Next to the bride, you’d draw too much attention. I mean the little sister beside you.”

“Beside? Little sister?”

Lingcai blinked, slow as dawn.

He turned his gaze to her. Lingcai pointed at herself, voice unsure. “You… mean me?”

“Of course,” the emcee nodded hard, like a woodpecker. “You’re really cute, and your aura’s lovely.”

“We need a petite bridesmaid. Your height’s perfect.”

“You don’t need to do anything—just wear the dress, stand by the bride, and follow my cues. Easy.”

“How about it? Want to experience it?”

“Ah… I…” Lingcai hesitated, heart tugged first, words coalescing like clouds.

She was about to refuse, when Scarlet Leaf stole the line, eyes sparkling like stars. “I agree!”

“Please dress her up as you like—make her as cute as possible.”

She lifted Lingcai’s wrists, waving them in the air like a cloth doll being posed.

“Eh? Eh?!”

Lingcai spiraled into panic, mind buzzing like bees.

She yanked free. “Wait—if I’m the bridesmaid, what about you?”

Scarlet Leaf blinked, face full of expectant shine, a smile plotting like a cat before milk. “Me? I’ll sit below and watch you.”

The emcee chimed in, seizing the moment. “Don’t worry, little sister. We’ll let your sister join the banquet and take a few photos of you.”

Lingcai flared, urgent as a match. “No— we’re not sisters. We’re lov—”

Before “lovers” could land, Scarlet Leaf covered Lingcai’s mouth, serene as a pond, and dragged the struggling girl toward the second hall.

“Come on, we’re not in a rush. Just taste the wedding atmosphere, liiittle sis ✩”

“You got this! I believe in you!” The emcee kept pace beside Scarlet Leaf, thumb held high like a flag.

That’s not the problem—!

Lingcai raged inside, thrashing like a hooked fish.

Let me talk—!