After Ghost Marriage with My Arch-Rival - Chapter 5

The next morning, the moment Liu Xiangyi opened his eyes, he felt something was off. An intense gaze was fixed on his face.

The look felt like moss growing on the edge of a deep pool—dark, damp, and clinging to his skin.

Liu Xiangyi turned his head. Zhong Qinhuai was leaning back in the coffin, his pale face partially hidden in the shadows, silently and eerily staring at him.

Liu Xiangyi bolted upright. “President Zhong, staring at someone like that without making a sound is terrifying, okay?”

A deep, meaningful smirk played on Zhong Qinhuai’s lips. “To be so easily spooked, President Liu, you didn’t happen to do something guilty last night, did you?”

Liu Xiangyi’s hand froze on the quilt. Memories of what he’d done to Zhong Qinhuai last night flashed through his mind. He cleared his throat and tossed the blanket aside with forced nonchalance, climbing out of the coffin.

Emboldened by his own awkwardness, he changed the subject. “President Zhong, you fell asleep earlier than me last night. But that was only Day One. I’m not admitting defeat yet. Do you dare to keep competing?”

The words had barely left his mouth when Zhong Qinhuai’s expression flickered subtly.

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

In the blink of an eye, Zhong Qinhuai returned to his usual lazy expression, making Liu Xiangyi wonder if that flicker had been an illusion. He didn’t dwell on it. He reached into the coffin for his phone and earphones, then stood up with a smile.

“What’s wrong? After just one night, is President Zhong already too chicken to sleep with me?”

Again, he saw a hint of something strange in Zhong Qinhuai’s expression. This time, it definitely wasn’t an illusion. However, he didn’t have time to decipher what those looks meant, he had a company to run.

After Liu Xiangyi left, a small crow fluttered onto the windowsill. It nudged the heavy curtains aside and poked its tiny head through. With a flick of its claw, a palm-sized notebook materialized out of thin air.

The crow’s sharp beak opened and closed, emitting the voice of a young child—stuttering and unpolished. “Y-your grandma said I have to read this to you every day.”

It flipped to the first page and began to recite, sounding like a tiny official reading an imperial edict:

“No getting c-close to humans.”

“No f-falling in love with humans.”

Zhong Qinhuai had heard this countless times, but he always listened intently. These were the final words his grandmother had left him before her soul dissipated.

The crow finished and stomped its tiny feet on the sill in annoyance. “A-Huai is a bad boy! You g-got married to that human!”

Zhong Qinhuai glanced at the closed bedroom door and drawled, “It’s just a marriage. We aren’t in love. That’s not a violation of the rules, is it?”

The Crow: “?”

Seeing the crow tilt its head in deep, confused thought, Zhong Qinhuai pulled out his phone, opened a note, and tossed the device toward the bird. The crow caught it with its claws and squinted at the screen, struggling to read the characters.

“Marriage is the grave of love.”

The first line made the crow gasp, its golden vertical pupils widening. Grave? Based on its limited understanding, it concluded that in human society, marriage was a terrible thing indeed.

It read on: “Stuck in a loveless marriage, two people must sleep in the same bed every night. Every evening becomes a long, drawn-out torture.”

The Crow: “!”

“S-so scary!” The crow’s claws trembled, nearly dropping the phone.

“See? You’re overthinking it,” Zhong Qinhuai said coldly. “Sleeping with President Liu last night wasn’t an act of closeness. It was an act of torture.”

The crow tilted its head. Oh, right! Sleeping with your arch-rival, that is definitely psychological warfare!

It looked closer at the note. It turned out these words had been written by A-Huai’s grandmother herself! The crow remembered now; after she died, she told the crow in the Underworld that she used to tell A-Huai these kinds of “bedtime stories” since he was a child.

In this branch of the Zhong family, the last eighteen generations were all chronic “love-brains”—pure romantics and tragic fools who never met a good end. Now that A-Huai was the sole survivor of this line, they couldn’t let him repeat the mistakes of his ancestors.

It! As A-Huai’s sixth-generation grand-uncle! It had to protect him!

The crow gathered its scattered thoughts. No love, just marriage, okay, I guess the second rule isn’t broken. But the first rule.

The crow’s eyes bugged out again. “A-Huai slept in the c-coffin with that human! I s-saw it!”

Did sleeping together count as ‘closeness’? Was it a violation?

Zhong Qinhuai paused, then chuckled. “Grand-uncle, maybe in your conservative, ancient society that was true. But times have changed. In this human world, two strangers who find each other attractive can sleep together without it meaning anything at all.”

The Crow: “?” (Small eyes, big confusion.)

Zhong Qinhuai hesitated, then added, “Besides, I only slept with him to figure out why he entered a ghost marriage with me in the first place.”

The Crow: “!” (Enlightenment!)

That human suddenly married A-Huai, he must have a secret motive! A-Huai is sleeping with him to spy on him! To find out what evil scheme he’s plotting!

The crow flapped its wings indignantly. “Humans are s-sneaky! A-Huai is s-smarter!”

It asked, “S-so, did A-Huai find out his m-motive last night?”

Zhong Qinhuai rested his chin in his hand, a rare look of bewilderment flitting across his eyes. “Like you said, humans are sneaky. It’s only been one day. We’ll see tonight.”

The crow, satisfied, tucked away its notebook and puffed out its chest. Since A-Huai’s grandmother died when he was eight, the crow had taken over his supervision. Under its watchful eye, A-Huai had been a perfect boy! No dating, no closeness. The only human he ever spent time with was his rival and their relationship was terrible!

The crow felt much better.

Liu City was a rainy place, especially in the spring. As Liu Xiangyi drove, he glanced out the window at the heavy, gray clouds. It looked like a downpour was imminent.

Just then, Liu Yanchi called. “Third Brother, any progress on the Yin-absorption?”

Liu Xiangyi: “…” (He felt a wave of internal chaos just thinking about last night.)

Seeing the silence, Yanchi cheered him up. “No worries! I’ve made progress on my end! I stayed up all night and refined an ‘Eight Immortals Longevity Pill’! Want to come over for a taste test?!”

Liu Xiangyi: “…” (The name alone sounded 100% unreliable. He declined.)

Before hanging up, Yanchi reminded him, “Remember, since the ghost marriage is done, he’s at your beck and call. If you’re in danger, just say his name in your heart, and he’ll appear.”

Liu Xiangyi scoffed. With their rivalry, if Zhong Qinhuai appeared, it would probably be just to laugh at him.

He arrived at the Liu Corporation headquarters and parked. As he stepped out of his car, a dark figure suddenly lunged at him.

“You forced my hand!”

He looked up, it was CEO Zhang, the man who had been late for the contract signing! He was wielding a dagger, lunging from the shadows toward Liu Xiangyi’s shoulder.

Liu Xiangyi: “!”

Is it too late to say his name?

The blade was barely a fist’s width from his shoulder when, in that split second, the world went bizarre.

The dagger froze. It hung suspended in mid-air above his shoulder as if someone had hit the pause button.

Liu Xiangyi was frozen, too. He stayed in his defensive posture, eyes wide with the lingering fear of the impending strike.

Everything in the area had stopped. CEO Zhang was frozen mid-leap, his face twisted in a snarl, feet off the ground. Nearby cars were caught as blurry afterimages on the road. Even the fine droplets of rain hung motionless in the air.

Time had stopped. And so had sound. The roar of the attacker, the hum of tires, the clatter of a nearby construction site—all vanished in an instant. The area was as silent as the end of the world.

Then, footsteps echoed.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone carrying a large black umbrella turned the corner of the parking garage. The rim was held low, obscuring their face. Only a pale wrist was visible where the sleeve had slid back.

The skin was blindingly white. Against the black umbrella, it looked like a layer of frost on a late autumn morning. It was a sickly, moody pallor—the kind that comes from a long absence of sunlight.

Under the umbrella, the little crow sat on the man’s left shoulder, its golden eyes darting around the frozen world.

“A-Huai, why d-did you stop time? You’ll e-expose yourself!”

Zhong Qinhuai’s lazy voice rang out. “I stopped time so I wouldn’t be exposed.”

He walked past Liu Xiangyi and reached out, plucking the dagger from the air. The crow’s eyes bulged. “N-no getting close to humans! Why are you h-helping him?”

“Do I look like a ‘kind’ ghost to you?”

Zhong Qinhuai chuckled and shot a glance at CEO Zhang, his eyes flashing with disdain. Then, as if to prove his point, he plunged the dagger into CEO Zhang’s own left shoulder.

A sickening squelch followed as blood began to gush.

Zhong Qinhuai’s voice was as airy as a breeze. “Do you still think I’m kind?”

The Crow: “!”

Not kind at all.

But something felt off.

The little crow shook its head. It blamed its own lack of brain capacity, being reborn as a bird meant its processing speed was often subpar.

The crow’s thoughts whirled. Suddenly, it remembered something and squinted up at the sky. “A-Huai, there’s no s-sun right now, but what if it comes out? You’ll be t-toasted! Why are you out during the d-day?”

Zhong Qinhuai strolled toward the entrance of the Liu Corporation headquarters. He surveyed the area, appearing satisfied with his current position. He came to a halt and gave a lazy smile.

“I’m here to find out why President Liu entered this ghost marriage, of course. So, no matter what I do next, it doesn’t count as a violation of Rule Number One, right?”

The Crow: “?”

Before the bird could process that logic, there was a sharp whoosh. Following a plume of black mist, Zhong Qinhuai vanished, replaced by a small black cat.

No longer able to perch on a shoulder, the crow frantically flapped its wings and landed on a nearby willow tree.

The little black cat lifted a paw and tapped the air, as if pressing a “resume” button.

The vehicles on the road “thawed” instantly, continuing their trek into the parking garage. The raindrops that had been suspended in mid-air plummeted down.

One landed right on the bridge of Liu Xiangyi’s nose.

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

He blinked, finally snapping back to reality. He remembered someone lunging at him with a dagger!

Thinking fast, he moved to give CEO Zhang a shoulder throw. But the moment he grabbed the man’s shoulder, Zhang’s face contorted in agony, and he let out a series of high-pitched shrieks.

Liu Xiangyi realized something was wrong. He let go and looked closer. For some unknown reason, a small dagger was now buried in Zhang’s other shoulder, and blood was already saturating his sleeve.

Liu Xiangyi: “?”

CEO Zhang hissed in pain, staring at Liu Xiangyi with utter disbelief. “Impossible!” he roared, trembling. “This is impossible!”

He had been so close to stabbing him! He had seen the blade nearly sink into the boy’s shoulder with his own eyes, how had it ended up in his own?

Driven to madness, he tried to lunge again, but security guards arrived just in time to tackle him and drag him away.

Liu Xiangyi remained frozen on the spot.

He had seen it too, the blade was inches from his skin. How did it migrate?

This isn’t scientific.

The only explanation was.

Liu Xiangyi scanned the area, but there was no sign of Zhong Qinhuai. Yet, such an unscientific occurrence couldn’t be explained by anything other than a ghost.

That brat actually saved me? A flicker of surprise crossed Liu Xiangyi’s eyes.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it. The rain was getting heavier. He hurried toward the lobby of the Liu Corporation building. Just as he reached the steps, a movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye.

A cat was curled up on the steps.

It was a rare, pure black cat. It looked like it had been rolled in ink, save for its eyes, which were a clear, startling yellow. It was tiny. It didn’t even try to run as the heavy raindrops pelted it; instead, it lowered its head pitifully and let out a tiny, weak “meow.”

It sounded small, pathetic, and utterly helpless.

With the storm looming, Liu Xiangyi bent down and scooped it up, cradling the cat against his chest as he walked into the lobby.

To his surprise, the kitten was incredibly well-behaved. It didn’t struggle or scratch; it just nestled into his arms. However, its head was held very high. It had the arrogant air of a forest king being carried on a royal procession through his mountain domain.

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

This cat, has it confused its species? Does it think it’s a tiger?

Up in the willow tree, the crow’s feathers puffed out in a panic. A-Huai can’t get close to humans! It was about to fly after them when it remembered the cat’s instructions. It folded its wings back.

A-Huai isn’t being ‘close’! He’s, he’s conducting a secret investigation!

Liu Xiangyi was oblivious to the bird’s distress. He had intended to leave the cat with the front desk, but it was so well-behaved that he ended up carrying it all the way to the elevator.

Just as the doors closed, his phone buzzed with a frantic WeChat message from his second brother, Yanchi:

“THE SKY IS FALLING! Big Brother found out about the ghost marriage! Think of an excuse quickly or he’s going to come kill me!”

Before Liu Xiangyi could reply, the phone rang. He picked up to a high-energy, cheerful voice: “Good morning to my super-cute third brother! But I’m having a terrible morning, can you guess why?”

Liu Xiangyi: “…”

The voice didn’t wait for an answer, shifting instantly to a tone of heartbroken grief. “How could my handsome, adorable brother marry a dead man? Tell me the truth, Xiangyi, did you do it for me?”

The kitten in his arms instantly pricked up its ears.

Liu Xiangyi didn’t notice; his focus was entirely on the call. His mind raced at high speed. “Big Brother, you know my ghost marriage partner, we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“I know! He was your arch-rival!” Thinking his brother had sacrificed his happiness for the family, the eldest Liu brother began to sob with guilt.

Hearing the sorrowful whimpering, Liu Xiangyi gritted his teeth. Time to go all in.

His lips curved into a gentle, fake smile. “Actually, I’ve had a secret crush on him for years. But you know how it is—he didn’t like me. I never dared to confess. I only picked fights with him to get his attention.”

Ding. The elevator doors opened. Liu Xiangyi stepped out, cat in tow. “Now that he’s dead, this marriage is my way of fulfilling a long-held wish.”

He finally managed to soothe his brother and hung up.

Liu Xiangyi let out a long sigh of relief. He glanced around nervously. That brat Zhong Qinhuai isn’t around, is he?

If that guy heard what he just said, he’d be mocked for the rest of his afterlife. Even though the words were pure fiction, he could already imagine the insufferably smug look on Zhong Qinhuai’s face if he found out his rival “secretly loved” him.

Thank god he’s not here.

Congratulating himself on his narrow escape, he walked into his office to start work. He looked down to set the cat on the floor, only to find the kitten staring back up at him.

Its head seemed to be held even higher than before. Its tail gave a slow, rhythmic flick radiating a supreme sense of triumph.

Liu Xiangyi: “?”