Chapter 524: Successor

Before Harry realized what major changes lay ahead, his heart was filled with a blend of emotions—pure joy. He stood beneath an archway woven from golden roses, beside Ron, whose fiery red hair was neatly combed; both their bodies were slightly uneasy, yet their faces shone with radiant smiles.

Harry’s gaze drifted unconsciously across the guests as he slowly regulated his breathing, trying to calm his nerves. Then, just as he began to grow impatient, the music began—a soft, summery melody like a mountain stream, perhaps an Eastern tune. As Harry idly wondered about its origin, he, like everyone else, turned his eyes to the far end of the carpet.

Zhang Qiu wore a simple, elegant ivory-white gown, with intricate patterns of gold and silver thread subtly embroidered along the collar, cuffs, and hem—work of the Celestial Court’s ritual officials, crafting a mysterious, ineffable beauty. She smiled, and Harry looked again at her face: today, her hair was pinned into a complex updo, devoid of extra ornaments, save for a single exquisite gemstone hairpin. It was unlike her usual loose-haired look, radiating a different kind of brilliance.

Mr. Snape, who had earlier been so uncharacteristically casual, now wore a composed smile as he gently led his daughter forward and placed her hand firmly into Harry’s. When their hands met, Harry felt hers was damp—he knew his own must be just as hot and clammy—and both couldn’t help laughing.

The ceremony was still presided over by Doge, dressed today more formally than ever. As Harry reminisced about cherished memories, lost in thought, Doge’s clear, resonant voice recited every required vow. Then, amid a shower of colored confetti and the guests’ applause and cheers, they solemnly kissed each other.

Zhang Qiu handed her bouquet to Hannah, who looked more like the next girl ready to marry. Harry offered no objection; he simply smiled warmly, watching as she infused this once-optional tradition with her own meaning.

After photos, embraces, and waves of congratulations, the venue transformed: a dance floor appeared, seats scattered, long tables laden with food, and the music grew sweeter. Harry and Zhang Qiu moved through the crowd, savoring it all at their own pace, until the setting sun gilded everything, until night deepened and the ball became a wild celebration, everyone reveling in this fleeting, perfect moment.

As the wedding neared its end, a sharp, loud pop of Apparition echoed from a corner of the hall. Immediately, murmurs and chaotic stirrings spread from that spot; one by one, guests either strode away or vanished in flashes of Apparition.

“Oh, what’s this?” Zhang Qiu said with a wry smile. “The inertia of fate? Or perhaps, given our wedding was meant to defy fate, this is its petty revenge!”

Harry suddenly remembered: Donald had mentioned the fate trajectory of [Wedding Interrupted]—an event that, no matter how delayed, would inevitably come to pass. He hadn’t expected it to happen at his own wedding—but it didn’t matter. The ceremony was nearly over anyway.

Harry exerted effort to calm the agitated crowd; he needed a reliable source to tell him what had happened. Soon, the crowd parted, revealing a middle-aged man with East Asian features. He wore a dark, classical formal suit, a small ivory plaque hanging at his waist, and in his hands, a box of purple sandalwood.

“The wedding rites are complete. Princess, please accept your ancestor’s final decree,” he paused, his expression solemn, “and return to the palace to assume command.”

Zhang Qiu was the first to freeze. Then Harry understood what “final decree” implied—Xuan Jun was no longer alive.

“What command?” Zhang Qiu snapped back with a barrage of questions. “What happened to Master? When did I become a princess? What palace?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is beyond belief,” Lin Shuanghe burst forward, his face pale with shock. “Xuan Jun took the entire Great Ming out of this world. And you, Qiu—and the lunar base that is your fief—are now among the very few remaining Huaxia subjects left on Earth.”

“What do you mean, ‘left this world’?”

“It’s gone. The land that once belonged to the Celestial Court is now a vast, jagged crater—as if someone scooped it out of the Earth with a giant spoon… Had I heard this news directly, I’d have been paralyzed. But according to this gentleman’s message, Xuan Jun planned it. He calls it ‘Ascension.’”

“So we’re just… left behind?” Zhang Qiu’s tone turned sharp. “Did he never—”

Harry pulled her close, sensing the rising tide of panic and sorrow beneath her words.

“The Northern Wastes were always imperial castoffs; the remnants are used to it,” the official with the box said flatly. “Your Highness, return to the palace and ascend the throne. Unless exceptional circumstances arise, please, Lord Consort, accompany her.”

“First, speak in plain English,” Zhang Qiu snapped, clearly venting her resentment toward Xuan Jun onto him. “Second, I’m not getting involved in any of that—not until after today, okay?”

“Ascension was never announced to anyone. Reactions from others are unpredictable. To prevent rash decisions in the chaos, we advise you and your husband to withdraw for now. Guanghan Palace is absolutely safe,” the official switched to simple English.

“Go up? Now?” Zhang Qiu glanced at the moon. “Our honeymoon suite was just decorated—we haven’t even slept in it yet!”

Before Zhang Qiu truly lost her temper, Lin Shuanghe stepped close and whispered, “He might be right. This place isn’t safe anymore.”

“First, our wedding was publicized everywhere—everyone knew this was the main venue,” Lin Shuanghe explained to them. “Now, Xuan Jun’s mass Ascension has sent shockwaves across the globe—I can’t say whether it’s good or bad for us, but what if some criminal sees his disappearance as the perfect moment to target Qiu? That would be dangerous.”

“I think that’s still unlikely,” Harry frowned, his right hand unconsciously gripping his gold watch. “And even if something happens, I trust we both have the strength to protect ourselves.”

“No, don’t involve the guests. Go with him,” Sirius spoke up from nearby. “If this is truly chaos, your safety as key figures comes first. And I believe Xuan Jun had a plan—perhaps following his instructions is part of it.”

The Celestial official slowly opened the lid of the sandalwood box, revealing a massive jade seal.

“That looks like a Portkey,” Sirius murmured. “Go quickly. I’ll handle the rest of the guests.”

Sirius was right—it was a Portkey. But not just any Portkey. It was so powerful, so immense, it could span three hundred and eighty thousand kilometers. Harry felt as though he’d been flung through chaotic space for nearly a minute before regaining his senses.

Unlike what he’d imagined, this was no Ministry of Magic teleportation chamber, nor a typical Celestial room filled with ornaments and wooden furniture. Instead, it was a modern corridor, facing a vast, gaping chasm, with a control console ahead. Below lay spiraling tiers of walkways, rooms glowing with a faint, eerie luminescence.

“Please use the Palace Master’s Seal to activate the Gui Xu.”

Without the wedding’s translation charm, Harry no longer understood the official’s Chinese. He idly scanned the surroundings, then spotted a large screen not far away—displaying a massive, blue-glass-like sphere: a map, or rather, Earth.

Perhaps it was a live feed, for Harry could clearly see that the territory once belonging to the Celestial Court on the Eurasian Plate now appeared as an unnatural dark patch, as if shrouded in shadow. If he’d known beforehand it had become a crater… Harry swallowed hard. He still couldn’t shake the feeling of unreality.

A movement caught his attention: Zhang Qiu, following the official’s instruction, had pressed the seal onto the console. A highly futuristic projection appeared before them: Xuan Jun. And, perhaps through some magical artifice, Harry could plainly see—the projection was alive.

“I apologize, both of you,” the projection spoke in English. “I know this has disrupted your beautiful wedding. But I had no choice—I needed to use a [fixed node of fate] to achieve Ascension. Unfortunately, in this altered fate trajectory, only [Wedding Interrupted] remained viable. I deeply regret this. Fortunately, your wedding was nearly complete; I hope the disruption is minimal.”

“Master, you really—”

“Don’t rush, Qiu,” the projection smiled gently. “I’ve left behind a complete thread of my consciousness—like the portraits in the Headmaster’s office. We have plenty, plenty of time to talk about anything you wish. But first, I believe I owe Mr. Potter an explanation.”