Chapter Forty-Eight: Lanruo Temple

I woke up amidst a violent jolting sensation, feeling as though a piece of cloth was tightly bound across my face, suffocating me. Subconsciously, I reached up and ripped the fabric away.

To my utter bewilderment, I found myself sitting inside a bridal sedan chair. The deafening sound of firecrackers and festive ceremonial music echoed all around. Looking down, I realized I was dressed in a traditional antique bridal gown, and the cloth I had just torn off was the bride's red veil.

Could it be that I had returned to the Divine Realm to marry Erlang Shen?

I lifted the curtain on the right side of the sedan chair, hoping to catch a glimpse of the outside world. However, what met my eyes was a dim, yellowish, twilight world, as if the sun had never existed. On both sides of the street stood old-fashioned tiled houses. Beneath the eaves and along the roadside squatted a number of onlookers, dressed in very strange attire—resembling the old-fashioned mandarin jackets from Republican-era television dramas.

Walking alongside the sedan chair was a plump matchmaker, her face painted with a festive yet exaggeratedly thick layer of makeup. Her lips were smeared with such a shockingly bright red lipstick that she looked as though she had just devoured a child. Sensing something amiss, she let out a piercing, brothel-madam-like screech: "Oh my goodness! How can a bride lift her veil? It brings bad luck! Cover it up right this instant!"

Seeing that I ignored her, she ordered the sedan bearers in front to halt. She whipped open the sedan curtain, intending to cover my face with the veil herself. The matchmaker possessed considerable strength; unable to resist her, I had no choice but to let her pull the red cloth back over my head.

"Good girl, that's more like it. Commander Wu is a man of influence in both the underworld and the legitimate world—you must not break any taboos or make him angry. True, he is a bit older, but once