Eldritch Horror Theatre

A rebellious anti-marriage subplot? The Old Man had truly come prepared.

Inside the Sanctuary, the entire audience was stunned.

Don Juan—currently played by the Old Man—shouting ”I am not your son” could easily spark misunderstandings.

Yet even Fu Qian, who knew the inside story, was hardly going to be led astray by a single line.

He obviously wasn’t exposing his true identity. In this context, it sounded exactly like a young man whose long-repressed emotions could no longer be contained, deciding to bravely rebel just once—

”I’m sorry, I believe in free love, and my true love is sitting right there in the audience, so I absolutely cannot accept this loveless marriage...”

”You tell me not to forget my status, but unfortunately, that cannot bind me. Even if I have to throw away my position as heir, I refuse to fail her again...”

Classic lines like these were likely already rippling through the audience’s minds before the groom even needed to say them out loud.

Although Fu Qian didn’t exactly agree with the logic of these clichés, if someone actually pulled a stunt like this, he wouldn’t hesitate to praise their commendable courage.

The main problem here was that Brother ”Don Juan” might have a few too many true loves sitting in the audience.For instance, the moment those words left his mouth, his former secret-room rendezvous partner froze. When she snapped back to her senses, her eyes practically spat fire.

At the same time, just within his field of vision, Fu Qian spotted no fewer than three or four other contestants who were equally restless and struggling to maintain their composure.

As a result, this unorthodox romantic confession had brewed into a truly brutal battlefield of jealousy.

So this drama was the core of the ritual?

The unfolding plot might be spectacular, but Fu Qian had never forgotten what the Old Man was actually here to do.

He had previously drawn two conclusions: first, Ji Feng’s target on this trip was highly likely Jose; second, his method of attack would likely involve a ritual connected to these ladies in the audience.

With that shocking outburst, both of those conclusions seemed to be proving true.

His Excellency Jose had clearly never been disobeyed like this before, especially not in such a public setting.

The man who had been earnestly lecturing just moments ago instantly became the center of attention. Amid their shock, the audience seemed to be waiting for a thunderous eruption of rage.

...

”You have no idea what you are saying, or even what you want.”

Surprisingly, the thunder of his wrath did not instantly tear through the sky.

Today, His Excellency Jose’s tolerance was extraordinarily high. After processing what his rebellious son had just said, he merely stared meaningfully at Don Juan’s face.

Only when the young man’s gaze remained firm—though his body had begun to tremble slightly—did Jose finally shake his head. He noted that a bit of nerves at a time like this was perfectly normal for a young man.

”But do you know what your true fortune is? Someone is here to know it for you.”

Without giving Don Juan a chance to argue, he pointed to himself, maintaining absolute control over the room.

His underlying meaning was simple: compared to shallow concepts like freedom, true love, and finding oneself, there were far more important things in life, and Don Juan was nowhere near understanding that yet.

However, the boy did have one thing to be proud of: he had someone to make those judgments for him and keep him from straying off the right path.

”Do you really know everything? Are you sure?”

Unfortunately, just as extremes breed reversals, this ultimate, contemptuous version of ”it’s all for your own good” actually reignited the lost courage in the previously intimidated Don Juan.

He let out a cold sneer, making it abundantly clear that he did not share his father’s confidence.

”Do you know what I’ve always hated the most? It’s that I can’t even tell the difference between what I hate and what you hate...

”Sometimes I even feel like Don Juan is your name, too. My perception, my sense of self—they are completely filled with your Imprint. Even my rebellion was just to shake that off. Do you know why I did all those things?”

It was a speech overflowing with youthful angst, sounding every bit like an edgy, misunderstood teenager.

As he spoke, Don Juan no longer just swept his gaze across the room; he pointed directly at the audience.

”At the end of the day, there’s only one reason: I wanted to feel something that belonged entirely to me. Things like physical pleasure, or the ’love’ that extends from it.”

...

Wasn’t that a little too unhinged? He should have at least considered the feelings of those ladies’ family members.

Don Juan’s pointing might not have been perfectly precise, but given his infamous reputation, everyone immediately understood what he meant.

It had to be said, airing dirty laundry to this extent really bordered on self-destruction.

Some things were fine as long as everyone maintained a tacit understanding without words, but tearing off the veil in public was just asking for death.

Following that unfiltered remark, the expressions on the faces of more than one lady’s male companion turned as stiff and fake as a painted mask.

”I have to admit, that feeling was truly intoxicating,” he continued. ”I loved letting them hold me in their arms, smelling the scent of their delicate skin.”

Yet Don Juan kept twisting the knife, even daring to describe the details.

”But gradually, that scent began to fade. Do you know why?”

Fortunately, the fundamental purpose of this speech still seemed to be tearing down his father. Soon, he aimed his spearhead right back at Jose.

”Go on.”

The older man’s expression was finally devoid of its earlier gentleness, though it still held no anger. He simply stared at Don Juan and calmly signaled him to continue.

”Because I could feel that you were smelling it, too.”

It was hard to say whether His Excellency Jose regretted letting him speak, but Don Juan’s next lines were so extreme that the ladies’ husbands, at the very least, must have been desperately cursing the idea in their hearts.

”Yes, that’s exactly how it felt. That pleasure was supposed to be mine alone, yet it seemed to bring you the exact same thrill.”

Unfortunately, Don Juan only doubled down, emphasizing his point once more.

”Trust me, I genuinely could not see or feel whatever happiness you experienced in those rooms.”

Seemingly aware that his son’s words were giving everyone the wrong idea, His Excellency Jose finally offered an explanation. He emphasized that there was no ”father and son sharing the battlefield” going on, not even any secret voyeurism.

”But you knew I was finding happiness in those rooms, and knowing that made you very happy.”

Don Juan, however, refused to let him off so easily. His laughter in that moment sounded almost shrill.

”It’s as simple as that. I am the continuation of your life, and you deliberately indulged my thirst for pleasure, as if you were trying to compensate for your own regrets.

”It’s the exact same with this ’correct’ wedding. I am nothing more than a prop in your life. But unfortunately—”

As he spoke, he untied the cloak he had specifically swiped for this occasion and tossed it casually onto the ground.

”This time, I refuse. I know what is actually right for me.”

With a gaze even more resolute than his actions, he looked directly into the bride’s face—a rare moment of earnestness for him.

”I’m sorry. You’re wonderful, but you are not the right person for me. You are the right person for my father.”