Chapter 13

“Hmm... I see, I understand now.” After listening to everyone’s back-and-forth explanations, Lingze Xia nodded, signaling his comprehension.

—So it really was a dream!

As the saying goes, what one thinks about by day is dreamt of by night.

He had indeed been paying close attention to Qin Jinwa’s wedding lately, so dreaming about wedding-related matters was only natural.

And to be honest, the dream felt quite vivid.

Looking at the two men and two women before him, all dressed in bridal gowns, Lingze Xia was puzzled as to why the men wore bridal dresses instead of groom’s attire. But considering it was a dream, and dreams often defied logic, he let it slide.

“Who’s paired with whom?” Lingze Xia asked.

What do you mean, who’s paired with whom?

The four were momentarily confused, thinking he meant who was teaming up with whom. Yinzhou Li quickly explained, “We’re all together.”

He meant there were no small cliques, but Lingze Xia misunderstood and thought it was some kind of group marriage, letting out a surprised “Whoa.”

This dream was truly wild.

“Anyway, the urgent matter now is to find the passage,” Zhiyu Zhai said. “Time’s running out. Let’s move—stay safe and be careful not to break any rules.”

With that, the four dispersed to search for the passage, guided by intuition.

Lingze Xia blinked, standing still, not in a hurry to find any passage. Instead, he began wandering leisurely through the antique manor.

The manor had two courtyards in total. He was currently in the outer courtyard, facing the gatehouse.

After some thought, Lingze Xia entered the corridor and casually chose the nearest side room, boldly pushing the door open as if he were at home.

—This appeared to be a storage room. Against the walls stood open bookshelves and closed cabinets, storing exquisite trinkets and books. Calligraphy and paintings adorned the walls, showcasing the owner’s cultural refinement and aesthetic taste.

Normally, Lingze Xia had never seen such things in reality. Even if he had heard of them secondhand, the dream versions should have been vague. Yet this “dream” was exceptionally vivid.

The cautious and meticulous would sense something amiss, while the carefree and simple-minded enjoyed the spectacle.

Lingze Xia noticed a red paper lantern on the table. He picked it up and saw it was only half-made, with some parts yet to be glued. Next to it lay iron scissors and a lid containing transparent adhesive.

Since it was a dream anyway, Lingze Xia decided to finish the lantern. Skilled with his hands—even quite practiced—he quickly completed the red paper lantern.

His origami skills were learned from Aunt Jiang in his village. She was a former paper craftsman, adept at making paper creations—cutting paper into figures of people, animals, and even fantastical shapes that didn’t exist in reality. All she needed was a drawing or a vivid verbal description.

Moreover, Aunt Jiang’s paper dolls could move. When Lingze Xia was young, she often played with him. They could understand speech and respond accordingly, much to his delight. He begged Aunt Jiang to teach him.

Lingze Xia was talented and learned fast. As his Uncle Tiedan put it: "The student surpasses the master; the waves behind push those ahead, while the front waves perish on the shore..."

What happened next, when someone paid a price for loose talk, need not be mentioned.

He turned the lantern over in his hands, inspecting it thoroughly. Satisfied it was flawless, he gently placed it back on the table.

Suddenly, a cold, eerie voice came from the doorway: “What are you doing?”

Lingze Xia looked up to see a pale-faced girl without pupils. She stood in the doorway, backlit by moonlight, her black, hollow eyes fixed on him.

“I’m fixing the lantern,” Lingze Xia answered honestly, then asked, “Who are you?”

The girl blinked, then sneered chillingly, “I am the lady’s personal maid. You’ve never been seen in this manor—Intruder! There’s a thief!”

Her cry shattered the manor’s silence, awakening countless sinister shadows that began wandering about.

The four were lucky—there were no phantoms nearby. They quickly hid, hearts pounding wildly.

Among them, Zhiyu Zhai was the most perplexed.

His brother had said the phantoms only appeared on the third night, yet this didn’t match.

But on second thought, since they hadn’t even entered the ghost realm of the ghost wedding yet, being dragged in already signaled something was wrong.

While the four were at a loss, suddenly their vision went blank and they lost consciousness.

...

A flash of spirit later, their sight was flooded with blood red. Something heavy pressed on their heads—they immediately realized red veils had been placed over them.

They dared not move, only shifting their eyes downward. Their gaze landed on their own toes and the floor.

From nearby came a voice: “The auspicious hour has arrived; the newlyweds shall pay homage in the ancestral hall—”

The sharp tone was like nails scraping glass—shrill and piercing, making one instinctively frown.

But the four had no time to frown. This was only the second day! How could the wedding ceremony already be happening? They were doomed!

The first rule of the game stated the ritual must occur on the auspicious day; advancing or delaying it broke the rules.

This auspicious day was fixed on the seventh day, a day fraught with dangers. That night, the new bride had to share a room with the so-called groom. It was precisely why this day was called the deadline—no one survived past it.

Trying to move the date earlier or later was a fatal misstep. Those who tried had already died, and the rule was derived from their fates.

—Every rule was forged through bloody lessons of those before.

The four racked their brains. Had they done anything to cause the wedding to be advanced?

No!

At this moment, their thoughts aligned chillingly with those of Huaimao, who had died on the first day.

“First, bow to Heaven and Earth!”

The officiant called out.

The four snapped back to attention and hurriedly complied.

They had no strength left to question why the bride was already a corpse, yet still expected to bow of her own accord.

At Duan Xunxue’s scene, as she bent, she heard breathing close above her head.

She felt as if plunged into an ice cellar.

She would rather be haunted by a phantom than have a living being wed her.

At Xu Gehan’s scene, just as she bowed, a pale face suddenly appeared from below, splitting into a grin.

Startled, Xu Gehan let out a scream she could not control.

Suddenly, all sound cut out as if muted. A chilling cold enveloped her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two pale hands reach from behind, grabbing her ankles. Fear peaked, and she unleashed a wretched scream.

At Yinzhou Li’s scene, whispers buzzed around like mosquitoes near the ear. The voices seemed to convey something, growing faster and louder, but Li could not make out the words.

Cold sweat soaked his clothes.

Then a sharp voice rose above the murmurs: “How can the bride wear a white wedding dress!”

Two words echoed in Li’s mind: It’s over.

At Zhiyu Zhai’s scene, the sound of ‘clack, clack’ grew nearer.

His nerves were taut; beads of sweat the size of soybeans slid down his cheek, dropping onto the stone floor, leaving dark stains.

The clacking drew closer still. Though invisible, he sensed it was right beside him.

“Hee hee hee, bowing! Getting married!”

The red cloth on his head suddenly slipped off. Zhiyu saw a faceless wooden puppet, no larger than a palm, dancing beside him. The ‘clack, clack’ sounds came from its wooden joints moving.

With his veil gone, Zhiyu’s face was exposed.

The puppet stopped dancing, stared at Zhiyu, and shouted angrily, “Why is my bride a man? Father, mother, you found me a son-in-law!”

Upon hearing this, Zhiyu, unsure what would come next, knew it was bad.

He stiffly looked toward the main seat where a couple sat on wooden chairs. Their faces were pale, twisted, and their mouths oozed suspicious moisture.

...

Lingze Xia tried to explain he was no thief, while inwardly marveling at how absurd and abrupt this dream was.

The girl flatly refused to believe him and insisted he was the intruder.

At that moment, the manor’s guards arrived one after another. Seeing each of these dream NPCs drooling over him, Lingze Xia understood.

“This must be what Uncle Tiedan called ‘scamming’—and with a fool no less.”

He wondered if his dream was too lawless—group marriage and scamming both illegal, right? Could it be that some wild nature lurked within him? That his true nature was untamed?