After Being Forced into Marriage with My Paranoid Dead Husband - Chapter 2

Just past the Dragon Boat Festival, it happened to be the rainy season. Amidst howling winds, torrential rain, and flashing lightning, the thick fog that had enshrouded the small courtyard for three days finally dissipated, replaced by continuous sheets of silver thread-like rain and mist.

Along the muddy, rugged mountain path, a figure stumbled forward in a rush. It was none other than Qing Ling, who had been trapped in the small courtyard for the past three days.

His clothes were soaked through and caked with mud. The mountain path was steep and even more difficult to navigate on a rainy night, yet Qing Ling dared not pause for even a moment. Leaning against the rock face, taking uneven steps forward, he wiped the rainwater from his face after nearly falling yet again, and looked out into the darkness of the winding path that seemed to have no end.

There was still some time before dawn.

Mountain winds blew past. Qing Ling was already weak, and at this moment felt a bone-piercing cold. But the thought of how that evil entity had subjected him to all sorts of humiliation caused an indescribable terror and shame to seep from the very marrow of his bones, prompting his fatigued brows to reforge their resolve.

“I cannot stop.”

Qing Ling murmured as he stared at the muddy mountain path. Regardless of whether the path ahead led to a way out, he had to struggle with all his might; he would never stay trapped in that small courtyard to await execution.

Just as he was about to reach a bend in the mountain path, a joyful, loud shout suddenly rang out through the sound of wind and rain: “Young Master!”

Startled by the familiar voice, Qing Ling paused and looked up, catching sight of a slender, small figure emerging from around the corner, waving at him.

“Young Master! Over here! You’ve finally come out of the courtyard!”

“A-Yuan?” Qing Ling blinked in surprise. After Steward Yu Bo passed away, the main family had sent a young servant named A-Yuan to serve him. A-Yuan was a few years older than Qing Ling, efficient and talkative, but for the past three days while the small courtyard was engulfed in thick fog, A-Yuan had completely vanished.

“It’s me, it’s me, Young Master!” A-Yuan also leaned against the mountain wall, muttering in complaint as he approached. “I finally get to see you! These past few days had this servant worried to death. That damned fog just wouldn’t clear up. Young Master, don’t just stand there foolishly; let’s hurry and go!”

A-Yuan’s tone was no different from usual. Qing Ling, who had still been hesitating, felt a wave of relief and stepped forward.

Suddenly, a flash of blue-purple lightning cut across the sky. In the thunderous roar that followed, the mountain path lit up as bright as day for a single split second.

In that fleeting flash of light, Qing Ling froze completely in his tracks. He saw that A-Yuan’s usually lean and dark face wore a horrifyingly eerie, sinister smile. Ash-gray aura of death swirled around him, and most terrifyingly of all, that face had already begun to rot. It clearly did not look like something a living person should possess, yet this person was still waving at him, and the “Young Master” he called out now sounded chilling and bizarre.

Resisting his terror with all his might, Qing Ling found himself caught in a difficult dilemma of whether to advance or retreat. Whatever that thing ahead was, it was definitely not his serving boy A-Yuan, especially since he didn’t know when the evil entity behind him might catch up.

“Young Master, why aren’t you coming over?” A-Yuan’s eerie voice turned shrill, his tone growing increasingly impatient until it finally broke into a frantic roar. “Come over here, Young Master, hurry! Hurry! HURRY!!! Why won’t you come over?!”

“Why!!??”

The roar gradually grew bizarre and sinister, echoing endlessly through the empty mountain valley.

Qing Ling clenched his fists, his feet already having unconsciously taken a step back. Just as he wanted to turn around, a warm current of air suddenly pressed against his lower back, abruptly halting his retreat.

“Benefactor, do not move!”

A loud shout rang out, causing Qing Ling’s mind to shudder violently. His vision felt as though a layer of mist had blurred it before gradually clearing up. Upon seeing where he actually was, he turned pale with fright and took a few staggered steps forward.

He was not on that stretch of the mountain path at all; instead, he was standing right at the very corner where A-Yuan had appeared and directly behind him was a bottomless abyss!

How could this be?! Qing Ling stepped forward, yet could not remember at what point he had ended up standing there. Furthermore, the A-Yuan from just moments ago had vanished without a trace. He raised his head and saw a figure in a coir raincoat and bamboo hat slowly walking down the mountain path.

“You…” Qing Ling’s throat was so hoarse he could barely speak, only to realize that beneath the coir raincoat of the approaching person was a set of grey monk robes.

In his childhood, he had once seen an ascetic monk passing through the mountains with largely similar attire, but this monk was remarkably youthful with resolute brows, devoid of any compassionate aura and instead bearing quite the fierce look of an enraged Vajra.

“This humble monk is Miaoyuan.” Holding prayer beads, Miaoyuan performed a Buddhist greeting, though his brow furrowed.

He had never before witnessed a living person carrying such a fierce, ominous aura of resentment, even faintly intertwined with scarlet hostility. Yet although this young master wore an expression of terror and shock, his eyes were genuinely clear and unblemished, not resembling someone of extreme evil, leaving him momentarily perplexed.

Naturally unaware of what the monk was thinking, Qing Ling simply rejoiced at finally meeting a living person. He dragged his battered body forward a few steps to lean against the mountain wall, catching his breath amidst the heavy rain before asking, “This is Qing Ling. Many thanks to Master Miaoyuan for saving my life just now, but that…”

“It was nothing formidable,” Miaoyuan shook his head. “Merely a wandering ghost whose first seven days after death have not yet passed, fortunate enough not to have harmed any mortal lives yet.”

With that, he reached out and grabbed toward the bottom of the ravine, sucking a wisp of faint ghost-light directly into his prayer beads.

Understanding dawned on Qing Ling, and after a dazed moment, he asked with difficulty, “Was he… down the mountain?”

“Those who die violent deaths harbor immense resentment. Once this humble monk chants scriptures to liberate his soul, it will be settled.” Miaoyuan remained utterly calm regarding life and death. “Does the benefactor recognize this wandering ghost?”

Remembering A-Yuan’s ferocious appearance just moments before, Qing Ling had initially thought it was some vicious demon, never expecting it to be A-Yuan’s ghost. Yet A-Yuan had always been so honest and diligent, causing him to stay silent for a moment before saying, “He kept me company here as my serving boy, but why…?”

Miaoyuan wore a familiar expression of unastonishment. “The dead are ultimately not the living; refusing to enter reincarnation makes one an evil entity. What someone was in life has nothing to do with after death. This place is not somewhere to linger; the benefactor can proceed forward along this path. When this humble monk entered the mountain the day before yesterday, I saw people wandering at the foot of the mountain, likely members of the Qing clan from the city who have come specifically for the benefactor.”

Qing Ling was startled, surprised that someone from the outside had actually come looking for him, though he quickly recovered his senses. “Master Miaoyuan is not leaving the mountain?”

Miaoyuan pressed his palms together in another greeting. “This mountain is shrouded in malevolence; something extraordinary must have been born here. This humble monk has come precisely for this reason. The benefactor should hurry back with his family.”

Having said that, he cast a meaningful look at Qing Ling. “The benefactor possesses a peculiar destiny and has also contracted the evil, baleful aura of the mountain. While this humble monk cannot immediately discern any clues, I worry the benefactor will not find peace in the future. Once this humble monk subdues the evil entity in this mountain, I shall go look for the benefactor. During this period, the benefactor would do well to venture out as little as possible.”

With those words, Miaoyuan walked further into the depths of the mountain.

Qing Ling wiped the rainwater from his face once more. Following the series of frights and unexpected turns, he wryly smiled to himself, figuring his current complexion likely looked no better than that of an evil spirit.

He lowered his gaze to inspect his own bloodless palms.

Contaminated with the evil qi of the mountain?

He didn’t wish to recall how he had contracted that evil qi at all, only hoping that Master Miaoyuan truly possessed the ability to eradicate the malevolent entity within the mountain.

Before leaving, he glanced back down at the fathomless ravine. Having parted ways merely three days ago, A-Yuan had already met his end at the bottom of this ravine, even transforming into an evil entity that nearly claimed his life. He could only wonder if A-Yuan had also fallen victim to whatever evil entity dwelled here.

Human affairs shifted too rapidly. Having grown up in the mountain with scarce contact with people, Qing Ling felt overwhelmed by these sudden events and could not sort out his own emotions. Knowing A-Yuan’s ghost was gone, he could only softly offer the words: “Rest in peace.”

Afterward, he continued walking along the mountain path.

Even if he had no idea what awaited him outside the mountain, he could certainly not remain in this isolated place waiting for death. He had to survive.

For a long while, gloomy qi surged turbulently within the mountain valley, and faint, chaotic noises gradually arose human voices, yet crafty and bizarre.

“He’s left, he’s left.” “He left! What a pity, what a pity!” “Indeed, such a rare opportunity, what a pity.” “That monk entering the mountain has ruined our fun. Hee hee, he’s a dead man for sure.” “Right, the one deep inside the mountain is not someone to be trifled with. He is definitely dead!”

Countless crafty chuckles echoed alongside the sound of rain throughout the empty valley. At that exact moment, the torrential rain abruptly stopped, and a sliver of moonlight pierced through the dark clouds. Simultaneously, a far more fierce, gloomy, and domineering malevolent pressure spread out with extreme arrogance, causing the entire valley to fall instantly, utterly silent.

Miaoyuan, who had been walking deeper into Dragon-Slaying Mountain, abruptly halted his steps. Amidst this astonishingly ferocious baleful pressure, he inexplicably detected a trace of a rather familiar aura, causing his normally calm expression to erupt in disbelief before he whipped his head around.

“He… that youth.” Miaoyuan realized in alarm what might be happening.

“Hah.”

A nearly imperceptible cold snort resonated between heaven and earth, followed by a mocking, deep chuckle.

“Meddling.”

As the echo faded, the fierce baleful pressure vanished into thin air in an instant. Miaoyuan’s mind shook violently, a single drop of cold sweat rolling down the tip of his nose to merge with the damp earth under the desolate moonlight.