Chapter Four: Wang Ying Appears

Wei Qi listened to my words, a chicken claw in his mouth, and asked, “Is everything you said true? Your uncle really married you to a ghost bride?”

I stroked the smooth bottle, unable to answer. Before this, I’d seen plenty of corpses and arranged many ghost marriages for others, but I had never truly encountered a ghost myself. Even when my second uncle said he’d found a ghost bride for me, deep down I didn’t quite believe it. Yet the bottle moving in my pocket earlier had been real enough.

“Da Chuan, give me your hand,” Wei Qi said, still gnawing at his chicken claw, reaching out with his greasy hand.

I extended my hand. After studying it for a long while, the mischievous smile faded from Wei Qi’s face, replaced by a solemn expression. “Da Chuan, with the Seven Fiends of the Heavenly Star in your fate, marrying one ghost bride may not be enough for you this lifetime.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the bottle in my pocket stirred again. I jumped up in fright, unwilling to discuss ghost brides with Wei Qi any further. Damn it! If one isn’t enough, what good is marrying ten ghost brides?

After dinner, Wei Qi mixed talisman water using chicken blood and cinnabar, while I packed my belongings. Though I was busy, my mind kept drifting to thoughts of Wang Ying. I had been skeptical, but the bottle moving twice proved she truly existed.

This was extraordinary—it meant everything else was likely true as well. I quietly unscrewed the bottle’s cap. Apart from the silver needle inside, there was nothing else. I inspected it closely, confirming there was nothing more. Today happened to be the seventeenth day of the sixth lunar month. I bit my finger and let a drop of blood fall inside. The purplish-red blood slid over the silver needle and pooled at the bottom of the bottle, but nothing happened.

Having been out for most of the day, I suddenly missed my mother. We’d rarely been apart over the years; I wondered what things were like at home now.

“Wei Qi, could you call my second uncle and ask how everything is at home?” I was genuinely worried, sensing something might happen there.

Wei Qi said that he’d already received a call from my second uncle while out buying wine—everything was fine at home. My uncle and mother were busy preparing the ceremony for me and Wang Ying. All I needed to do was stay put.

I was thoroughly depressed. Had I really married a ghost bride?

Lost in gloomy thoughts, the front door opened and a woman walked in. She was in her forties or fifties, well-dressed, carrying a handbag. She paused, then asked, “Which one of you is Master Wei?”

Wei Qi stepped forward. “Sister, speak freely. I am Wei Qi.”

The woman sized him up, her expectations perhaps similar to mine—legendary figures rarely look the part. After a moment, she explained her friend’s husband had died and wished to arrange a ghost marriage for him. Did Wei Qi have a suitable match, and how much would it cost?

She had a round face, wavy hair, and looked prosperous, though her features carried a hint of allure.

Wei Qi invited her into the living room, though it was cluttered and lacked a proper place to sit. She remained standing, saying she’d come on recommendation and wanted to know if Wei Qi would take the job.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead asking how the man had died. The woman replied it was sudden, without details. Wei Qi requested the man’s birth date and time, then spent a while scribbling and calculating before saying he’d take the job. He asked if the man had been buried. The woman said he’d been buried for half a year, and only now did she think of arranging a ghost marriage for him.

She asked about the cost. Wei Qi estimated forty thousand yuan would suffice. She rummaged through her bag, pulled out a card, and handed it over. “Master Wei, here’s twenty thousand. Please take it, and I’ll pay the rest once it’s done. Just make sure everything goes smoothly, and don’t let outsiders know.”

Wei Qi told her to leave an address and phone number, promising to find an auspicious day soon to arrange the ghost marriage for her friend’s husband.

That night, Wei Qi said he was going out to find a suitable ghost bride for the deceased man, telling me to rest at home. I wanted to go with him, but he insisted I needed rest—clearly, he didn’t want me involved.

After he left, I took out the small bottle and examined it. White porcelain with blue patterns, swirling clouds. The thought of Wang Ying’s soul inside made me uneasy, but curiosity won out and I opened the bottle. To my surprise, the drop of blood I’d placed inside was gone—the walls of the bottle were clean and white.

Now I was convinced: it’s not that ghosts don’t exist, but that you haven’t met one yet, or your fate hasn’t arrived.

Suddenly, there was a knocking sound outside, then the door creaked open. Expecting Wei Qi, I looked up, but it wasn’t him. Instead, a woman in red entered. Her face was cold and proud.

“Who are you?” She looked familiar, as if I’d seen her somewhere before. Despite her icy expression, she was strikingly beautiful—tall, fair-skinned, and elegant. But her face showed no warmth, making her seem distant and unapproachable.

“Wang Da Chuan, you don’t recognize me? I’d like to strangle you, but you saved me once, so I’ll watch your behavior. If you please me, I’ll spare you. If not, I’ll see to it you die—and your whole family with you.” She came close, radiating a chilling aura.

I was terrified, nearly paralyzed. A woman in red, full of resentment, appearing in the dead of night, threatening to kill me and my family—why?

“Who are you, really?”

“I am Wang Ying, the girl you were going to marry off to Li Xiang.” She moved closer to me.

“Ah!” I cried out, feeling my soul nearly leave my body. I’d imagined she might appear, but not so soon, and certainly not wearing red. I remembered my second uncle saying that vengeful female ghosts in red were the most dangerous.

“Wang Da Chuan, I hate you. You and Zhao Dongsheng sold me back and forth, never caring about my feelings.”

“Sister—no, elder sister—I swear I never meant any harm. We morticians do this for a living, and besides, it was for your own good.”

I instinctively backed away, but there was nowhere to go—the wall was behind me.

Wang Ying sighed softly. “Wang Da Chuan, I used to hate you, but your silver needle restored my vitality. My shattered soul gathered together again. Though I can’t return to life, I can take on a human form. And since your second uncle matched me to you, that’s how it is. You’re not bad-looking, so I’ll settle for you.” She moved closer, a cold, seductive smile on her face.

“What... what are you going to do?” I shrank back instinctively. Though Wang Ying was beautiful, she was a ghost. If I slept with a female ghost, I might die without even knowing how.

Wang Ying reached out and touched my face. “What else? Wedding night, of course! Since your uncle matched us, I’m your wife now.”

I’d heard an old story about a man who fell in love with a ghost. They lived together, but the man eventually sickened and died—the ghost’s yin energy consumed him. So no matter what, I wouldn’t go through with it.

“Wang Ying, I understand, but there’s a difference between humans and ghosts. We can’t consummate the marriage. Besides, Wei Qi will be back soon, and this is his bed—it’s filthy.”

“Enough. We’re husband and wife, so we must fulfill our duties. I’ve already set up a ghost barrier outside. Even if Wei Qi arrives at the door, he won’t find his way in. Come.” With that, Wang Ying threw herself into my arms, pressing me onto the bed. She was surprisingly strong; I could barely resist.

Whatever happened, I had to struggle. I didn’t want to die just like that—I wanted to live. So I fought desperately.

“Wang Da Chuan, what do you mean? If you don’t want this, don’t agree to marry me. If you do, you must be a proper husband.” Wang Ying straddled me, tearing her clothes open to reveal pale, flawless skin.

“Wang Ying, please, let’s talk. As long as we don’t do that, I’ll do anything you ask.” I pleaded.

“Really? A man’s word must be kept.” Wang Ying smiled slyly, climbed off me, and began tidying her clothes. The look in her eyes told me I’d been tricked—she never intended to do anything, only to use this as leverage.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Kill someone!”