The Sickly Beauty Haunted by a Gloomy Male Ghost - Chapter 1

“The ghost groom comes to fetch his bride,”

“The red sedan sways, the suona horns blare, paper money drifts as the groom laughs with flair,”

“Bow to the heavens, bow to the hall, a joyous union for one and all.”

The cheerful yet eerie nursery rhyme pierced through the blizzard, striking like a sharp needle through the silent, dark night.

A crimson bridal sedan jolted forward through the wind and snow. The villagers carrying it kept their heads down, walking briskly, terrified of offending some taboo.

Inside the sedan, Bai Weixue opened his eyes.

The moment his consciousness returned, a thick scent of iron surged up his throat. He coughed violently, instinctively covering his mouth.

A piercing pain radiated through his lungs, making his thin frame tremble uncontrollably. All surrounding noise vanished, leaving only the sound of his own ragged, broken gasps.

Finally catching his breath, he reached up and tore away the cloth covering his eyes. As his vision returned, he froze.

Clutched in his hand was a bright red bridal veil.

Tassels dangled from its four corners, and in the center, a pair of mandarin ducks was embroidered with gold thread. However, the scene was soaked through by a patch of viscous, wet blood, looking startlingly vivid.

The sight of the blood made his pupils contract. A sudden, sharp pain tore through his mind, and a flood of foreign memories rushed in.

His name was Bai Weixue, an intern at a supernatural investigation agency. Because his workplace hadn’t paid his salary and he was short on cash, he had taken a private job online. A client’s girlfriend had mysteriously vanished six months ago, and the police couldn’t find her. Her phone’s last location was right here: Yinshi Village.

They had planned to enter the village to look for clues, but as soon as they arrived, they were knocked unconscious and stuffed into sacks. When he woke up again, his client was gone, and he was sitting in a bridal sedan, acting as…

The bride?

Before he could process the shock of transmigration, a dense chill crawled from his feet up his spine. Bai Weixue looked down at the red wedding dress he was wearing and the exquisite, small red embroidered shoes on his feet. His face slowly turned pale.

“The ghost groom comes to fetch his bride,” he whispered, repeating the rhyme. Linking it to this job, a bone-chilling realization dawned on him.

The thing “marrying” him tonight likely wasn’t a living person.

Bai Weixue instinctively tried to push the sedan door, but the wooden frame wouldn’t budge. As he moved, a stack of items fell from his lap.

It was a pile of yellow paper, covered in complex, hard-to-read talismans—the original owner’s tools for a living. Seeing a potential way to save his life, Bai Weixue calmed down significantly. He gripped the red veil tightly, wondering what he would face next.

Right then, the sedan came to a sudden halt. The abrupt stop threw him forward, and with a change in expression, he quickly threw the red veil back over his head.

With a creak, the wooden door was pulled open from the outside. Two dark, thick hands reached in, grabbing Bai Weixue from both sides and hauling him out.

“Bride, we’ve arrived.”

“Pity the bride, marrying the groom,”

“Flesh for food, bone for a bed, strip the skin to sew the threads,”

“The red veil hides the tears she shed, legs kicking high till she is dead.”

It was snowing heavily outside. The flakes landed on Bai Weixue, making him shiver and cough. However, compared to the chill in his heart from the rhyme, the cold was nothing. Bai Weixue forced himself to stay calm as the villagers led him indoors.

A stagnant, rotting scent hit him, making him feel as though he were in a dark, damp basement filled with the smell of mold.

A heavy pressure landed on his shoulders, a force he couldn’t resist. His knees buckled, and he hit the cold floor with a dull thud.

Then, a hollow, monotonous voice rang out above him:

“First, bow to the Heavens and Earth!”

His head was forcibly pushed down, his forehead striking the concrete floor with a crack.

“Second, bow to the parents!”

With the red veil obscuring his vision, Bai Weixue could see nothing. Another thud echoed as he was slammed down, seeing stars from the impact.

“Husband and wife, bow to each other!”

Bai Weixue was twisted around to face his partner. At that moment, the veil lifted slightly, and he finally saw what he was bowing to.

It wasn’t a person.

It wasn’t even a ghost.

It was a sinister, pitch-black coffin.

The surface of the coffin was painted a deep black, giving off an unlucky, ominous vibe. Upon closer inspection, it had a dark red tint, as if ancient, clotted blood was seeping through. Numerous yellow talismans were plastered all over it, but the symbols weren’t drawn with cinnabar—they were painted with layer upon layer of fresh blood. It was clear that whatever was inside this coffin was exceptionally dangerous.

Lost in thought, his forehead hit the floor once more.

With the distance to the coffin suddenly closed, Bai Weixue could feel the icy chill radiating from its surface. A faint scent of iron lingered in the air. Just as he tried to catch the scent, he was grabbed by the collar and hauled up.

A cold, ghostly voice whispered in his ear:

“Enter the bridal chamber!”

Wait… the bridal chamber?

Bai Weixue was stunned. The next second, the world spun as he was hoisted over a shoulder and thrown unceremoniously into the coffin.

“Bang!”

The lid slammed shut, plunging him into total darkness.

The red veil had fallen off somewhere. A thick, icy chill wrapped around him like a living thing. His body felt stiff and frozen, the cold seeping into his bones and bringing a metallic sweetness to his throat.

Threads of blood leaked from between his fingers, dripping onto the bottom of the coffin. Ignoring the pain, he carefully took a talisman from his robes and tore it in half. The yellow paper ignited, and by the faint light of the flame, he surveyed his surroundings.

The glimpse he’d caught under the veil had been just the tip of the iceberg. The interior of the coffin was much larger than he had imagined; he had to fully extend his arm just to touch the top.

To his surprise, there was no ghost, no remains, and not even a trace of ashes.

Bai Weixue breathed a sigh of relief. He waited a moment, then took out another talisman and slapped it hard against the lid.

The lid didn’t move an inch.

He frowned. With a thought, he pulled out a blank piece of paper and began to draw a new talisman using the wet blood on his hand.

Once finished, he slapped the paper down: “Rise!”

Creak, creak.

The sound of wood grinding against wood echoed from above. Bai Weixue looked up as a thin sliver of light shone through the edge of the lid, illuminating his pale face.

The talisman wasn’t powerful enough to throw the lid off, but it had moved it just enough to create a gap about half a person wide, plenty of space to squeeze through.

From the dark, narrow slit, a few pale fingers emerged, gripping the outer edge of the coffin tightly. Then, a mop of hair popped out.

As expected, the villagers had already left.

The bright light entered his eyes, slightly dispelling the chill in his bones. Bai Weixue panted, his warm breath reddening his lips. His blonde hair was a mess, and sweaty strands clung to his forehead, partially veiling his upturned eyes.

He didn’t stop. He used all his strength to haul his body up. The wedding dress was intricate and heavy, making it difficult to move, so he first extended one leg to straddle the coffin, kicking off one of the cumbersome embroidered shoes.

As he saw the coffin’s full exterior, Bai Weixue took a sharp breath. He didn’t doubt for a second that without these talismans, ten of him wouldn’t have been able to budge the lid. He would have been doomed.

Fortunately, luck was on his side.

He raised an eyebrow, preparing to pull his other leg out.

But his foot…

He bent his knee and tried to yank his foot free.

Something had grabbed his leg!!!

His already pale face turned translucent. He stiffened, turning his head inch by inch to look down.

In the dark depths of the coffin, his remaining red shoe was submerged in a thick, oily black mist. Strands of the mist reached up like countless black claws, gripping his ankle, his calf, his thigh…

In an instant, Bai Weixue was dragged back into the abyss of the mist.

“Thud!”

His tailbone slammed against the bottom of the coffin, and tears instantly welled in his eyes. He lay there disheveled, surrounded by the swirling black mist, in such agony that even breathing became a struggle.

Suddenly, a terrifying shiver ran up from the soles of his feet. Something dangerous and unfathomable was slowly drifting toward him.

His pupils shrank as a massive shadow loomed over him. The light from the gap was blocked out, leaving him in total darkness, engulfed by a bone-piercing cold that felt like falling into a deep pit.

A raspy, broken, and strangely stiff voice spoke from above:

“Meat?”

Bai Weixue suddenly remembered the eerie rhyme: “Flesh for food, bone for a bed, strip the skin to sew the threads.”

Before he could respond, his neck was seized by a massive force.

As suffocation set in, his head was forced back, exposing his fair, slender neck to the shadows like a dying swan. The black mist pressed against his Adam’s apple, forcing him to swallow repeatedly as a trickle of blood escaped the corner of his mouth.

His wedding dress was soaked with cold sweat. Due to the lack of oxygen, his body began to convulse. His vision darkened, his fading sight reflecting the scene before him.

The surging, oily mist stopped flowing and slowly solidified into a thin, humanoid shape. The “person” had blurred features and was leaning down, “watching” him, as the hand around his throat slowly tightened.

Knowing the weak human was doomed, it didn’t kill him instantly. Instead, it slowly stripped away his remaining oxygen and life force, admiring how that beautiful, flawless face turned from translucent white to a bruised purple.

How interesting.

“Ugh… ah…”

Bai Weixue let out a pained gasp. His blonde hair clung to his face, stained red by the blood from his lips. His chest heaved violently as he fought for air, his ears filled with the dull, rhythmic thudding of his own heart.

Just as a hanging man instinctively grabs the rope, Bai Weixue reached out to grab the “hand.” But the mist had no physical form, and his hands met only air.

In his struggle, his fingers brushed his lips, coating his hand in sticky blood.

Gradually, his body stopped thrashing, leaving only his fingers twitching within the mist.

It looked as though he had finally died.

Sensing the life force fading quickly from the body, the evil spirit felt a hint of regret; it wasn’t satisfied yet. While a death struggle was entertaining, a quick surrender was boring. It tightened its grip, ready to deliver the final blow.

But just before it could crush his neck, it suddenly froze.

Within the thick mist, a blood talisman glowing with golden light emerged. This charm had temporarily paralyzed the spirit’s movements, giving Bai Weixue a moment to breathe.

The surrounding air turned even colder as a dark, murderous gaze fixed on his face.

As the chill crawled into his lungs, Bai Weixue knew the blood talisman wouldn’t hold for long. He shifted his unfocused eyes, looking hazily at the evil spirit, and a dangerously alluring smile tugged at his bloody lips.

“I know you’ve been trapped here for a long time.”

“I can help you leave, as long as you don’t kill me.”

“How about it, my groom?”

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