Chapter 2 The Groom Bride
So, what exactly is the way to break the curse?
Ji Linmo’s mind flashed back to the rules written on the slip of paper. The note had said that the bride adored festive red. If he could somehow make this deathly pale room look more celebratory, perhaps he could avoid angering the bride and break free from this deadly predicament.
He looked around. Aside from the photograph and a pair of scissors, the room was barren. A thought occurred to Ji Linmo; he glanced down at his own arm.
With a swift motion, he sliced open the vein on his arm with the scissors. Blood gushed forth at once. Lifting his hand, Ji Linmo used the flowing blood to write the character for “Double Happiness” on the wall.
The large crimson character bled down the ghastly white wall, drip by drip, pooling on the floor—gruesome and unsettling.
Ignoring his wound, Ji Linmo stepped forward to open the door.
With a clang, the rusty iron door groaned open, unleashing a chilling, howling wind. The air was thick with an overwhelming, murderous cold.
The bride, her face veiled in red, floated lightly to stand before Ji Linmo.
She glanced at the blood-painted symbol on the wall, its red lines trickling down, and with a barely perceptible nod, extended her slender, pale right hand.
He had done it right.
Suppressing his nerves, Ji Linmo reached out and took her hand. But the bride’s hand, suddenly, gripped his in return, covering the back of his hand tightly, prying apart his fingers, caressing his fingertips, entwining their fingers together.
This was not a woman’s hand.
Feeling the icy, rough, and far broader palm, Ji Linmo lowered his eyes.
The ghost bride was a man.
Ignoring the bizarre sensation, Ji Linmo linked arms with the bride and began to lead him inside.
But suddenly, two paper children—boy and girl—stood in his way.
“Heehee, heehee! Newlyweds entering, red envelopes open the way!”
Their paper eyes spun wildly as they stretched out their hands, giggling, demanding red envelopes.
Ji Linmo’s brow furrowed. The slip of rules had not mentioned anything about red envelopes!
“Heehee, heehee!”
Seeing him unmoving, the paper children’s eyes spun even faster, crinkling into laughing slits.
“Heehee! Bride marries the wrong groom, the newlywed’s pockets are empty, his belly void of true heart!”
With that, their ink-painted mouths gaped wide, revealing blood-red fangs.
[System prompt: You have angered the other party. Take action quickly to avoid death!]
“Wait, who says I have no red envelopes!”
Seeing the warning, Ji Linmo quickly pulled two bills from his pocket. Thinking fast, he grabbed the scissors from the table and, with a few deft snips and folds, fashioned two lifelike paper ingots, which he handed to the paper children.
“Heehee, such sincerity, such a generous gift—may the couple love and keep each other forever,” the paper children sang, their eyes rolling as their heads swayed left and right, then, with a laugh that grated the teeth, they dissolved into ash, scattered by the cold wind.
Ji Linmo breathed a quiet sigh of relief—he knew, however, that the true danger was yet to come.
[Ghost Bride (?)]
[Level: ?]
[Character Description: ?]
The bride in the red wedding robes cocked his head, staring at Ji Linmo, who quickly forced a smile and, holding the other’s coarse hand, entered the room.
A gust of wind swept through, knocking the black-and-white photograph from the table to the floor.
Instinctively, Ji Linmo stooped to pick it up. As he held it, he noticed something odd. In the photo, on the back of the bride’s right hand, there was a faint birthmark, uncannily similar to the burn scar on Ji Linmo’s own right hand.
Wait—something was wrong.
When he had helped the ghost bride earlier, the back of the bride’s right hand had been perfectly smooth, unmarked.
Staring at his own burn scar, then back at the photo, Ji Linmo’s eyes widened in sudden realization.
He was the bride.
The person in the photograph was himself.
“Husband, come drink the nuptial cup,” a voice called.
No time to think—suddenly, the ghost bride was right before him, holding out a cup of wine from who knows where, pressing it to Ji Linmo’s lips.
The cup emitted a chilling mist.
“Husband, won’t you drink?” the ghost bride’s voice was sullen, clearly displeased.
With a hiss, the bride’s fingers holding the wine cup revealed black, razor-sharp nails. One nail pressed against Ji Linmo’s throat, and with a slight pressure, blood began to trickle down from where it pierced his skin.
[System prompt: You have angered the other party. Take action quickly to avoid death!]
Ji Linmo broke into a smile, suddenly snatching the red bridal veil from the other’s head and draping it over his own.
“What are you saying, my good man? I am the bride.”
[Kind Reminder]
[2. She is the bride, you are the groom; he is the groom, you are the bride.]
[3. Don’t forget to drink the nuptial cup—your beloved’s favorite.]
At the moment Ji Linmo removed the ghost bride’s veil, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a young man’s face beneath.
The boy beneath the veil had beautiful, almond-shaped eyes that crinkled into crescent moons, smiling at him with ambiguous amusement.
That face…wait, that face!
Ji Linmo suddenly realized it looked familiar—astonishingly like the youth he’d been searching for!
He had no time to be certain; the next instant, his vision was engulfed in red as the veil fell over his face.
“Husband, let’s continue with the nuptial wine.”
Under the red veil, Ji Linmo steadied himself, answering with a blank expression.
But the other party suddenly gave a soft laugh.
That clear, youthful voice—pure as the first ray of morning sunlight—brushed past Ji Linmo’s ear.
“Very well, let us drink. But, dear bride, where is your cup?”
Wine?
Ji Linmo looked up, and in a flash recalled: there was only one cup of wine in the room, and it was in the “ghost bride’s” hand.
Damn, a miscalculation.
As Ji Linmo pondered his next move, a cold touch crept across the skin of his bleeding arm.
The “ghost bride” suddenly grabbed his wounded arm, pressing it against his own face.
“What are you—”
Ji Linmo shuddered, but before he could pull away, he heard a soft laugh. The other gripped his wrist firmly, and with a teasing flick of his tongue—like a cat—began to lick the gash on Ji Linmo’s arm.
Warm blood, drop by drop, was swept away by that cold, wet tongue, leaving gleaming trails behind.
“Sweet,” the other murmured, amusement in his tone.
“But not as sweet as wine.”
“How about this, dear: today is our wedding night. Before we consummate the marriage, let’s play a little game to celebrate.”
“If you win, I’ll give you the wine and spare your life.”
[Mission triggered]
[Play a game with the “Ghost Bride”]
[Mission Description: Tonight is your wedding night. Before consummation, your partner seems eager to play some celebratory games. Do you have the confidence to win?]
[Mission reward for success: ?]
[Failure: Death]
A cold wind swept through, and the “ghost bride’s” voice was icy, brimming with a chilling menace.
Yet Ji Linmo could strangely sense a touch of excitement in the other’s tone, as if he were looking forward to something.
Wait—before the wedding night, a little celebratory game?