Fortune 023: Wedding for the Dead

To be fair, the scene was truly terrifying. If the bride herself weren’t standing right beside him, Nan Shi would have bolted without a second thought.

The ghost bride spoke coldly: “You had the nerve to lock me in here, now let’s see you open the coffin! Don’t just hide out there in silence—I know you’re outside! Open the door! Bah!”

The corner of Guo Xingxian’s mouth twitched. His eyes rolled as he called out, lowering his voice, “What if the girl inside came back to life? That’d be a disaster! Open the coffin, quick! You don’t want to suffocate her back to death—!!”

The crowd was in an uproar, quickly accepting this explanation—far easier to believe than resurrection by a corpse. “Yes, yes, open the coffin! This is a matter of life and death—!”

“Hurry up!”

Several officers exchanged glances; now was the time for mixed-gender teams to show their worth. The women held back Mrs. Li to avoid accusations of the men manhandling her, while the others summoned their courage and moved to open the coffin.

A policewoman embraced the now limp Mrs. Li, supporting her upright. With skillful technique, she restrained her from making a scene—not that Mrs. Li had the strength left to do so, clutching the officer and wailing, “Officer! She’s come back to life! She’s come back to life!”

“It’s nothing! In broad daylight, we’ll know for sure once the coffin’s open!” The officer was consoling her when another banging sound came from the coffin: “Thunk—!”

Mrs. Li shrank in terror, pointing a trembling finger at the coffin: “It’s knocking again! It’s knocking again!!”

“It’s fine—hey, what are you all standing around for? Open the coffin and see!”

Since the bride had just been carried out to ceremonially take her vows, and would later be sent to the crematorium, the glaringly red coffin wasn’t even nailed shut. With a few officers working together, the lid was pushed aside, revealing the bride lying quietly inside.

The bride’s face was ghostly pale, with heavy spots of blush painted deliberately on her cheeks, like a paper effigy, as if afraid she didn’t look “alive” enough without extra color. In fact, all her exposed skin was thickly coated with white powder.

The shock of gazing directly at death left the officers momentarily frozen. Then Dr. Feng, the forensic specialist, gently nudged them aside. “Out of the way—let the professionals handle it!”

Dr. Feng showed no fear, his gloved hand feeling for a pulse at her chest. Watching his stopwatch, he pressed for nearly three minutes before saying, “No heartbeat. Muscle rigidity, unless there’s been some special treatment, places the time of death at about five to seven days ago.”

At these words, everyone present, whether they’d believed in resurrection or not, was simply relieved she was truly dead and not some monster or the living. That was relief enough.

He raised her hand, rolling up her sleeve to expose skin not covered by powder: it was an unnerving waxy yellow, mottled with purplish-blue postmortem stains.

“That’s certainly seven—” Dr. Feng suddenly stopped himself. His lips pressed into a tight line as he examined the bride’s hands and feet, then unfastened her collar to look at her neck. The cause of death on the certificate had been natural causes.

But the wounds on her body were clearly inflicted while she was alive. There were obvious handprint-shaped marks on her neck, bruises on her shoulders and arms, and while her face wasn’t swollen, it was cyanotic—how could this be a natural death?

At some point, the ghost bride had seated herself on the edge of the coffin, reaching out to touch her own corpse, gently caressing her cheek. “Yes,” she murmured, “I was strangled to death. The forensic doctor is good—he should be able to see at a glance.”

Dr. Feng propped up the bride’s left hand, clenched tightly. Some of the makeup had been rubbed away from the knuckles, revealing the waxy, blackened skin beneath.

Startled, he glanced at the coffin lid, but before his eyes could settle there, he felt the bride’s hand relax in his grasp, and something slipped into his palm.

The ghost bride held her right hand, gazing with a faint smile. “Thank you…”

She turned and, winking playfully at the officers and pathologist, said, “But I’ll handle the main offenders myself, so you don’t need to collect more evidence. The rest of the accomplices—I’ll leave them to you!”

Of course, they couldn’t hear a word she said.

The ghost bride’s lips trembled with grief, and she suddenly collapsed onto the coffin, sobbing. Blood-red tears dripped onto the coffin, almost indistinguishable from its paint.

Who wanted to die? Who wanted to become a vengeful ghost? Back then, she had pleaded with them—for money, she’d give money; for people, she’d offer herself. Even if they’d just left her on the street, letting her live would have been enough.

She thought, at worst, she’d be sold somewhere as a prostitute or sent to marry some mountain villager. Never had she imagined they’d be so depraved as to want to profit from her corpse.

She could still recall that man, the one calling himself her “father,” stroking her face and smiling. “Girl, these days a dead body is worth more than a living one. Don’t blame us after you’re gone—in your next life, may you be born to a better family.”

A cloud of dark red malice flickered around her, her expression turning bewildered and manic for a moment. Nan Shi, seeing this, nodded at Qing Ying. “Go help that young lady. Remind her you can’t board after the ticket’s punched.”

“Understood.” In a flash of blue, Qing Ying appeared at the ghost bride’s side. With a sweep of a long sleeve, the malevolent energy was dispelled. “Sister, stay clear-headed. Don’t let yourself be controlled by resentment. Young master said, in the underworld, you can’t board after the ticket’s punched.”

“…Thank you, sister.” The ghost bride’s shoulders shook, but she gradually calmed. She wiped her face haphazardly, then walked over to the “father” and spat fiercely, eyes bloodshot. “Be glad you get to live half a day longer. Just half a day! When my revenge certificate comes, we’ll see how you fare!”

“No way I’m going to be tricked into prison for all eternity! For your information, my real parents have already burned me a villa, sports car, computer, air conditioner, Wi-Fi, and bucketloads of gold ingots! When I go down there, I’m going to enjoy myself!”

Dr. Feng took a deep breath and raised his hand, calling out without turning, “Secure the scene. Call it in. This is a serious case—bring me an evidence bag.”

The officers were ready and immediately took all those claiming to be the bride’s family into custody. The team captain stepped closer, noted where Dr. Feng indicated, and called the detective squad—this had become a criminal matter.

Someone ran up with an evidence bag, and Dr. Feng dropped the object from his palm inside. Only then did he see that it was a slip of paper. He didn’t check it directly, lest he spoil any traces.

The “bride’s father” shouted, “On what grounds are you arresting me? I don’t know anything!”

Two officers twisted his arms behind his back. “Sit down! Don’t move!”

Nan Shi and Guo Xingxian exchanged relieved glances. Nan Shi drew Guo Xingxian outside; the police at the door suspiciously eyed them, but Nan Shi gestured to show they’d just stepped out for a smoke, not to run, so they were allowed to lean against the wall for a smoke break.

Nan Shi fished a pack of cigarettes from Guo Xingxian’s pocket, offered him one, and as one crouched and the other leaned, they smoked in silence. Cigarette between his lips, Nan Shi mused, “I calculated this lady would meet disaster this year. She didn’t pull through, but I never expected it to be like this.”

“…Wait, you can say that out loud?” Guo Xingxian’s eyes widened; he nervously glanced overhead as if a sandal might come flying down to whack Nan Shi.

“It’s fine. She’s already a ghost, so her fate is a done deal. No point keeping quiet.”

“How bad did she have it, really?”

“Come closer.” Nan Shi motioned, and when Guo Xingxian leaned in, whispered the rest. The more Guo Xingxian heard, the darker his face became, until he spat in disgust. “Scum!”

The ghost bride had slipped out with Qing Ying and gave Guo Xingxian a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Hey now, it’s all in the past—don’t worry about it.”

Guo Xingxian turned and hugged her. “Miss…”

Nan Shi kicked him. “What are you doing? Let go!”

The police were watching. Hugging a ghost in public looked like he was clutching at thin air—at best, they’d haul him off as a lunatic!

Guo Xingxian let go, scratching his head, mumbling, “Sorry, I got too emotional.”

The ghost bride rolled up her sleeves. “No worries, I never hugged such a handsome young man when I was alive! Heehee!”

Perhaps because word had gotten around internally, the detective squad soon arrived and took the supposed parents and relatives away, leaving the rest to answer questions before being allowed to leave.

Nan Shi purposely queued up at the very end, waiting as neighbor after neighbor was called to have their faces checked.

From the start, he’d felt an odd, growing sense of unrest.

By right, with the main culprits taken to the station, the ghost bride’s injustice was as good as redressed. Excluding the ghost bride’s influence, why did everyone still look so sallow and doomed, a sheen of death written across every brow?

Even some of the officers’ faces had changed—but they were all righteous, robust men: at worst, they’d have a bout of illness.

If it had been mass food poisoning, the officers hadn’t even touched the food or drink. It couldn’t be that. An earthquake or sinkhole?

He couldn’t make sense of it.

By the time it was their turn, Nan Shi nudged Guo Xingxian forward to register, then used his phone to check his own face—a bad omen: the black mist had grown heavier.

Finally, when it was Nan Shi’s turn, he scanned the area to confirm he was the last in line, then suppressed his foreboding and began writing down his information. He’d written half his ID number when the officer said, “Hey! You two over there—the ones in red and black, come register!”

Nan Shi froze, reflexively turning to look. At the end of a banquet table, which should have been deserted, sat two figures—one in red and one in black, their backs to everyone and both with short hair, making it impossible to tell their gender.

“You two in red and black—you’re the last, come on, hurry!” the officer called again.

But the two sat motionless, rigidly facing away as if they hadn’t heard.

A chill wind swept through; everyone shivered. The officer handling Nan Shi’s case rubbed his arms and muttered, “Didn’t hear anything about a cold front today…”

Nan Shi shuddered too. “Weather changes like you flip a switch.”

“Doesn’t it?” his colleague replied. Nan Shi and Guo Xingxian were clearly not suspects—plain, upstanding young men. The officer sipped from his thermos. “I’ll go fetch those last two—let’s finish this quick and get back to the station.”

Nan Shi smiled and filled in the last few digits. Just as he was about to stand, a shrill scream and a heavy thud came from behind. He spun to see the officer who’d gone to the two figures had fallen heavily, clearly unable to get up. Hands trembling, he tried to stay calm: “…You two, show your faces! This is official police business—don’t joke around!”

Two officers dashed over to help. “What happened, Old Liu—how did you fall?”

Officer Liu swallowed hard, breaking free of their grasp to stand up. “It’s nothing. These two kids in cosplay startled me, that’s all.”

Tonight’s scene had been unsettling enough as it was—some fashion freaks turning up now, who knew what they were thinking.

Suddenly, Nan Shi’s face went deathly white. He grabbed Guo Xingxian and shoved him towards the door. “Go, quickly!”

“Nan Shi, what are you—?” Guo Xingxian looked curiously at the two figures. “It’s just a couple of people—what’s the big deal?”

“Are you blind—those are not people!” Nan Shi snapped.

Weddings and funerals carried great residual energies, but the joy of weddings typically had a smaller, less dangerous radius; funerals’ ‘white energy’ was infamous. Elders always warned children to keep away from funerals and hide indoors when a coffin left the house. Elderly spouses were especially forbidden from attending their mates to their graves, lest the departed’s spirit linger and draw them away too.

But this ‘energy’ wasn’t about ghosts per se; Nan Shi believed it was just a particular, fragile sort of aura that could interact with other unstable fields—children and the elderly, for instance.

But these two were not the usual ‘wedding joy’ or ‘funeral grief’ ghosts—they were something far more concrete and deadly: ghosts who had died at their own wedding or while attending someone else’s, incarnating as the “Wedding Ghost” and the “Mourning Ghost.”

In Nan Shi’s home village, there was a saying: if, at a wedding, you see someone dressed all in black, face locked in sorrow, and sitting alone in a corner, pretend you never saw them, or you’ll be haunted by a Mourning Ghost. The same if, at a funeral, you see someone all in red—don’t approach; run for your life.

Their auras were deadly—ghosts dying in the happiest moment of their own life, or in the happiest moment of someone else’s. Anyone with low “yang” energy or a weak aura was fair game. With standard joy or grief spirits, you might get away after rituals; with these, you could die, or at best, spend your life hiding in a monastery.

Most terrifying of all, these two ghosts were completely unreachable. Their hearts, consumed by hatred and regret, held only the wish to kill, to make others share their pain.

Why did Nan Shi know so much? His senior had schooled him with the Complete Bestiary of Ghosts to Run Away From.

So the true calamity came from this: a wedding and a funeral, and even the bride herself had become a vengeful ghost—summoning both Wedding and Mourning Ghosts was only logical, if unlucky beyond belief!

The ghost bride’s mere presence had dampened everyone’s yang energy all along; that sudden, bone-chilling wind just now was likely these ghosts at work, fanning out to weaken everyone’s spirits.

Normally only those with low “yang” could see such ghosts—but with all three forces together, it made sense that the whole village had been drawn in for a shared dose of misfortune!

Though Nan Shi kept his voice down, he saw the two figures move subtly, as if “looking” at him.

Qing Ying stepped forward, blocking their line of sight. “Young Master, Young Master Guo, please follow me out. With me here, they won’t dare harm you.”

“What are those things?” Guo Xingxian asked, baffled. Nan Shi answered quickly, “Don’t ask, just run. They’re deadly.”

Guo Xingxian didn’t get it, but he knew to read a face: Nan Shi had gone pale and Qing Ying looked deadly serious—this was bad.

Nan Shi kept nudging him for the door, but still lingered: “Is there any way… to get everyone out?”

Qing Ying dipped in a shallow curtsy. “Young Master, fate is set. It must not be altered by force.”

Nan Shi gritted his teeth and hurried outside. These ghosts were far too strong; no way could just one protector keep everyone safe—he ought not be the weak link in the chain. Time to improvise.

Save who he could!

Qing Ying added, “Don’t worry, Young Master. These officers are many; their yang energy and resolve are strong. The ghosts won’t be able to kill them, not right away.”

“I know.” Nan Shi pulled Guo Xingxian outside and whispered, “Go find your godfather—tell him some uninvited guests are causing trouble on his turf, and he needs to hurry over and teach them a lesson!”

Guo Xingxian was stunned. “What? Will that actually work?”

“It will! If your godfather won’t help, grab his tree trunk and cry! Tell him they’re after you and want you dead!” Nan Shi urged him.

“…???”

“Go now!”

Guo Xingxian nodded and ran as if his life depended on it. The officers at the gate, hearing that something was wrong inside, came over to question Nan Shi, and some prepared to head back in. The more people inside now, the safer—Nan Shi said, “There are two people not cooperating—looks like they’re about to get violent, so I hurried out!”

“What, picking a fight with the police?!” The officers charged inside at once.

Watching them go, Nan Shi paced anxiously. “Qing Ying, is there any way to stop them? Scare them off, even? These officers slog their guts out for next to nothing, fighting for justice—why should they have to pay in sickness besides?”

Qing Ying shook her head. “Young Master, if Young Master Guo can invite the Apricot Immortal here, we might have hope. Alone, it’s all I can do to keep the two of you safe.”

Ghosts who cultivate properly and those consumed by grievance are worlds apart, the paths of order and chaos. A frustrated ordinary girl with a knife might still be subdued by training—a vengeful spirit with powers was another matter.

“……”

---

Inside the courtyard.

The officers surrounded the two figures, feeling colder by the second.

The biting wind seemed to freeze their toes right through their thermal boots.

“You two, show your faces—please cooperate! If you refuse, we’ll take you to the station!” someone demanded.

The pair slowly began to move. They turned around—only to reveal their backs once more.

A few officers snorted in disbelief. “Show your faces! Hand over your IDs!”

A young officer muttered, “If those are girls, they sure are flat!”

The Wedding and Mourning Ghosts raised their hands, moving languidly to brush aside their hair and reveal their faces—twisted with grief and bitterness, their stares hollow and voices raspy. “…Can… you see… us…?”

“What kind of question is that? Two living people sitting right here—we’d have to be blind!”

“Living… I’m not… living… hee hee…” The last syllables grated like broken glass. An older officer, sensing something was wrong, lifted his badge and thrust it forward. “Show some respect! Cooperate with the investigation!”

“Name! Home address! Phone number! ID!”

Suddenly, the figure in red vanished and reappeared behind the senior officer, placing a cold hand on his shoulder. He instinctively turned—and collapsed, unconscious in the next instant.

“Hee hee… so many…”

“So many… come… die with us—”

Batons snapped out in a flash. “Don’t move! Don’t come any closer! Old Wu, check on Zhou!”

“Die together~—!” The ghosts’ words rang out, their drawn-out chant chilling the soul.

“Stay back!” another officer barked.

The next moment, the Mourning Ghost materialized behind him—and he too fell, insensible.

Realizing the severity of the situation, the officers drew together back-to-back, forming a cautious ring, eyes darting everywhere for the next attack.

“Diiieee——!”

Even as the ghost’s howl lingered, a sudden blast of firecrackers erupted outside the wall.

A stirring, righteous anthem thundered out, slicing through the ghosts’ voices:

“Arise, ye who refuse to be slaves—! Let our flesh and blood forge a new Great Wall—!”

The Wedding and Mourning Ghosts recoiled as if at an unspeakable terror and scrambled away from the sound.

Out in the yard, Nan Shi lit a string of firecrackers and held up his phone—nothing like a domestic brand, so the sound was blaring! Plus, he’d found a portable loudspeaker someone had left behind, so the entire village was echoing with the anthem of their people’s homeland!

If you need pure yang energy and righteous vibes—

There is no sound under heaven more powerful, more filled with justice, and brimming with vital yang than this!