As the sinister wind dispersed, the hall returned to stillness. The candles burned quietly, their shadows flickering faintly as the thick haze of malevolent energy faded from the room.
Though Xie Lingxi and the others lacked the Night Wanderer's spiritual sensitivity, their instincts told them the place had become safer.
The Fire Demon cast an appraising glance, his tone a mix of surprise and delight:
"You're a Night Wanderer? You're actually a Night Wanderer..."
Just a single reprimand was enough to scatter the vengeful spirit—the profession of this Wang Tai needed no further explanation.
"Is it that surprising? Jinshui Amusement Park clearly has supernatural elements. Matching a Night Wanderer feels perfectly logical," Zhang Yuanqing replied with a smile. "Everyone, I can't guarantee our safety through every ride here, but when it comes to the haunted house, I can at least keep you safe before the ghost bride shows up."
The four teammates exchanged glances, each seeing joy in the others' eyes.
They hadn't expected a rare class to be in their party.
In a haunted instance full of ghosts, having a Night Wanderer watching over them was more reliable than most items.
After all, he specialized in this.
In an instant, the way the four looked at Zhang Yuanqing shifted—they were now full of reliance.
"We only have one hour. Let's not waste time. Search the place for clues," Zhang Yuanqing said, sweeping his gaze across the hall. With night vision, he quickly locked onto the offering table behind the grand chair.
He stepped forward. Beneath a blue-and-white porcelain plate filled with peanuts and longan was a folded red sheet of paper.
Zhang Yuanqing picked it up and read it under the candlelight:
"Betrothal Gifts: A steelyard, a golden hairpin, medicinal wine, a wedding quilt."
The others gathered around.
Xie Lingxi pinched her chin thoughtfully, her bright eyes spinning:
"These aren't typical betrothal gifts, but since they're listed, I assume we're supposed to find these four items and present them as such."
Finding them would essentially make you the groom.
Qi Tian Dasheng asked, "What happens if we don't find them?"
Fire Demon answered, "Then we die. Once the gifts are found, the ghost bride will pick one of us?"
Zhang Yuanqing replied, "Why just one? What if she wants us all in the bridal chamber?"
The group stared at him blankly.
He shrugged. "Kidding. Lightening the mood. You guys seriously lack a sense of humor."
Their expressions grew even stiffer.
Xi Shi rolled her eyes. Xie Lingxi continued:
"The mission's structure is becoming clear. In one hour, the ghost bride will choose a groom. Her criteria are these betrothal gifts. So we need to search this mansion for those four items.
"But the one she chooses—will they be the lucky survivor, or just the first to die? That part is unclear."
The Fire Demon glanced her up and down. "You sure you don't remember the walkthrough?"
She was analyzing things far too well.
Xie Lingxi pouted and feigned grievance. "I really don't know."
Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the number of party members and felt a chill.
Following the current clues, there were two possible outcomes: One, if they found all four items, the entire group would be seen as eligible grooms, and the bride would make her pick.
Two, the four items only allowed four people to be considered, and anyone left out... would die.
The first scenario was manageable. But if it was the second...
Zhang Yuanqing thought grimly:
If it's the second, then this checkpoint is designed to force internal conflict. In that case, fewer than four may survive. No wonder items and skills aren't sealed—this instance is trying to pit us against each other. S-rank instances are all deadly traps...
If it came to that, how many would be left?
As team leader, he had a hidden quest that required at least three teammates to survive.
Also, the idea of a "bride choosing a groom" was misleading. It suggested that being picked meant survival. People naturally assumed the chosen one would be "lucky"...
But Zhang Yuanqing was certain: the one chosen by the bride would die.
For one simple reason: that's how it was in the previous version of the instance. And more importantly, if only the chosen one could survive, the hidden quest would be pointless.
No matter how hard you worked, only one person would live.
Then what would be the point of preventing casualties?
Unless... the ghost bride was secretly a polyamorous playgirl. Then it'd be a different story.
At any rate, the bridal selection might only claim one life, but the haunted house posed multiple threats—not just the bride, but also the looming threat of inner conflict and other malevolent spirits.
As the captain, this was proving to be hellishly difficult. If this instance didn't reward them handsomely after clearing it, it would be flat-out unreasonable. Fortunately, he had the Subduing Demon Pestle. Even facing the ghost bride directly didn't scare him...
As this thought crossed his mind, he instinctively scanned the party—only to find their eyes had turned wary.
Everyone was already beginning to distrust one another.
No one here was stupid.
Zhang Yuanqing coughed once. "Time's short. Let's search for the gifts. Stick with me. Don't split up. Regular spirits can't get close to me."
In this kind of situation, his words held the most weight. Everyone still needed his profession.
The group circled past the screen wall behind the main hall and entered the inner courtyard. They were met with winding corridors lit by red lanterns, the deep red glow casting shadows of trees, flower beds, and artificial hills.
In the distance, arched gateways linked to other courtyards, and the silhouette of traditional roofs stood orderly in the night.
A proper mansion indeed... the ghost bride was clearly the daughter of some wealthy household, Zhang Yuanqing mused.
The estate was at least a triple courtyard in size.
After scanning the layout, he turned back to instruct the group: "The yin energy is thick here. Stick close—"
His voice cut off.
Behind him—nothing but emptiness.
The rest of the team had vanished.
Okay... now this is creepy. Zhang Yuanqing took a deep breath and continued forward.
He had to find them fast. None of the others were Night Wanderers. Even with unsealed items and abilities, their means against spirits were limited. If they encountered a strong ghost, they'd die fast.
He passed through the garden and spotted a room ahead with a faint candlelight filtering through its lattice windows.
The rest of the house was pitch black.
Zhang Yuanqing crept along the corridor, cautiously approaching. He concentrated—there was a chilling aura inside, but no lingering spirit presence.
He quietly pushed the door open.
It appeared to be a young woman's boudoir. A bed stood in the east, veiled with gauzy curtains. A round table sat in the middle, and a dressing table stood by the window, its copper mirror aimed squarely at the door.
A golden steelyard lay on the table—silent and untouched.
Zhang Yuanqing stepped in, shut the door, and approached the vanity. He picked up the steelyard—it was about half an arm in length and as thick as a thumb.
A traditional item for lifting the bridal veil, symbolizing "measured love, perfect union."
Not too hard... found one already.
He turned to leave when a sizzling sound came from his pocket—the Elvis speaker had activated:
"That day, she came to Jinshui Amusement Park..."
Ugh, this damn thing always picks the worst moments. What's it trying to say now? Still, it was part of the amusement park. Maybe it knew something...
The voice continued:
"The spirits in the haunted house trembled in fear, bowing low. The great one didn't trouble the weak ghosts. She gave the bride an order—to seek a young man. That young man's name was... Primordial Heavenly Sovereign!"
Zhang Yuanqing's mind went blank, like he'd been struck by lightning.
She's looking for me? For me?!
Who the hell wanted him?
Shock and confusion surged up, then realization hit.
Three Dao Mountain's Lady!
"The official Taichi statement said a powerful boss triggered the change in the Spirit Realm... the amusement park's description mentioned that this being awoke after an eternity of sleep, curious about modern novelties. Those all point to her...
I was the one who woke her up. She's looking for me... because the Subduing Demon Pestle holds half her Yang soul. Damn it, this clingy old witch won't leave me alone—I'm still a kid…"
Zhang Yuanqing had always known that leveling up would eventually lead to a confrontation with the mountain goddess.
He just didn't expect her to reach across realms to mess with low-tier instances.
So if I use the pestle now, I'll expose myself? That's exactly what she wants—to track me down.
If he did, she might appear instantly.
And then what? Do powerful boss-level spirits even have moral constraints? What if she just crushes me like a bug...
After weighing the risks, he decided to not use the Subduing Demon Pestle. He'd complete the instance through normal means. Only if forced into a corner would he risk revealing his identity.
Having made up his mind, he relaxed a little. Just as he turned to leave, he saw something in the copper mirror:
The door was opening.
Startled, he spun around—but the door remained tightly shut.
What the hell?
He turned back to the mirror, and his pupils shrank.
A woman in a white dress, hair loose and messy, stepped across the threshold with an unnatural gait.
But the room in the mirror was subtly different.
She reached the vanity and sat down.
That's when Zhang Yuanqing saw why her posture was so odd—she'd been walking backwards.
Then the real horror began.
In the mirror, the woman calmly lifted her hands and removed her own head, cradling it in her arms.
Her skin was corpse-black, nails long and sharp like claws.
Her face—pale, lipless, white-eyed—stared straight into the mirror. Straight at Zhang Yuanqing.
Nope, no beauty filter on this one... Zhang Yuanqing backed away quickly.
But the hair in the mirror began to move—like living tendrils, whipping forward.
The mirror rippled like water. The hair pierced through it and coiled around his arms and torso, tightening rapidly, trying to drag him in.
"Hmph!"
Dark light surged in his eyes. He opened his mouth and inhaled deeply—
Soul Devour!
It slowed the hair but didn't disperse it.
She's strong. Not your run-of-the-mill wraith. Step by step, he was being pulled closer to the mirror.
Subduing Demon Pestle—no, can't risk it. Bloodblade? No use. Red Dancing Shoes? Physical damage only...
Then—you're up, Little Dumbass!
Zhang Yuanqing exhaled a wisp of yin energy and summoned his infant spirit.
"Ah-ba!"
The chubby little ghost baby landed on the vanity, stretching lazily—until it saw the mirror.
It instantly freaked out, tumbling off the vanity and hiding behind Zhang Yuanqing, bawling in terror.
"You useless brat, get in there!" Zhang Yuanqing growled and issued a command.
"Ah-ba ah-ba!"
Bound by spirit servant instinct, the baby's eyes turned fierce. It clutched Zhang Yuanqing's pant leg, climbed to his shoulder, then leapt—
And smacked right into the ghost's face.
Zhang Yuanqing immediately shifted his consciousness into the baby, overriding the ghost's senses.
Her eerie face went slack—as if her mind had been wiped.
The killer hair lost its force and fell limp.
Nice!
He recalled the infant, let it curl up on his head, and sprinted out the door.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, a loud bang sounded behind him—the door slammed shut.
The candlelight vanished. Darkness returned.
Yin winds howled in the courtyard. Many restless spirits lurked beyond the hedges, drawn to the Night Wanderer's aura but too fearful to approach.
Gotta find the others—hope they're not all dead yet...
He raced through the arched gate to the next courtyard.
And spotted Xie Lingxi.
She was standing at the edge of a water vat, upper body submerged, gripping the rim, struggling hard.
Something inside the vat was pulling her in.
No matter how she fought, she couldn't pull herself free.
Her movements grew weaker and weaker...
Zhang Yuanqing stepped closer and caught the scent of alcohol. He bent down and saw that the vat was filled with a dark liquid, within which something writhed — a fetus-like creature trailing an umbilical cord, floating silently in the murk.
Its bulging eyes opened slowly, fixating on Zhang Yuanqing.
"Fetal ghost..." he muttered, narrowing his eyes.
This creature was commonly found in high-difficulty haunted instances. It was the spirit of a drowned fetus, full of resentment and malice, especially toward women.
Zhang Yuanqing wasted no time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black talisman.
"Burn!"
He pressed it against the vat, and with a sizzle, black flames ignited across the surface of the paper talisman. An aura of righteous force erupted, followed by a shrill screech from within the vat.
The fetus ghost writhed in pain, shriveling rapidly, until it dissolved into wisps of gray smoke.
The liquid in the vat instantly calmed.
At the same time, Xie Lingxi let out a gasp and collapsed backward, coughing violently, her face pale from near suffocation.
"I... I almost died…" she panted, her voice trembling.
Zhang Yuanqing grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. "Can you walk?"
Xie Lingxi nodded, her eyes still wide with lingering fear. "Thank you... thank you."
"Save it for later. We need to find the others, fast."
He quickly scanned the courtyard and noticed a streak of fire flickering through the shadows near a corridor.
"That should be Huomo."
Zhang Yuanqing led Xie Lingxi toward the light. As they turned the corner, they found Huomo in the middle of a fight.
A grotesque shadow clung to the walls, chasing him relentlessly. It hissed with a distorted, inhuman voice. Huomo was using a flame talisman to hold it off, fire licking at the shadowy figure but not burning it away.
"It's resistant to fire," Huomo growled, sweat dripping from his brow.
Zhang Yuanqing didn't hesitate. He charged forward, raised his hand, and released a pulse of Night Wanderer's Suppression, a wave of spiritual authority that washed over the corridor like a tide.
The shadow creature let out a furious shriek and instantly recoiled, curling into itself, then dissipating into black mist.
"Boss!" Huomo panted. "That ghost was chasing me nonstop. I burned three talismans and still couldn't stop it."
Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "This place is crawling with special-class wraiths. Don't split up again. Where's the rest?"
Huomo looked around, then pointed toward another courtyard across the arched corridor. "I saw Qitian Dasheng run that way."
They regrouped and headed in that direction.
Soon, they found Qitian Dasheng curled up in a pile of straw in a storage shed, his head barely visible. When they called his name, he bolted upright, eyes wide with fear.
"I'm not the groom! Don't take me! Huh? It's you guys…?"
His voice trembled with residual terror.
"What happened?" Zhang Yuanqing asked.
"I saw... a procession, a whole ghostly wedding procession. They passed right by me. I held my breath and didn't move. I thought I was dead for sure…"
Zhang Yuanqing's face turned serious.
Ghost wedding procession?
They had limited time, and the ghosts in the haunted house clearly weren't just background elements. There was a hierarchy and order to them — and they had a goal.
"Let's move. We have only one item so far — the golden scale bar. We need the rest of the betrothal gifts: the golden hairpin, the medicinal wine, and the wedding quilt. Time is running out."
They cautiously made their way through the compound, now sticking close together. The atmosphere grew heavier, as if the entire residence was holding its breath.
As they passed by the ancestral hall, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly halted and raised a hand.
"Wait!"
In the shadows near the base of a spirit tablet, something glinted—an object partially buried in dust.
He walked over and brushed aside the dirt. It was a golden hairpin, ornately shaped like a phoenix, with a red gemstone embedded in its head.
[You have collected one of the wedding gifts: Phoenix Hairpin.]
He tucked it away carefully. Two down, two to go.
Behind him, Qitian Dasheng whispered, "Why the hell would they scatter the betrothal gifts across a haunted residence?"
Zhang Yuanqing replied without looking back, "The ghost groom wants them delivered. If we don't, the wedding proceeds with us as substitutes."
He didn't need to explain further. Everyone had seen enough ghost stories to understand what that meant.
"Where's the wine?" Xie Lingxi asked.
Huomo suddenly said, "There's a wine cellar behind the kitchen. I saw it when I was escaping the shadow."
"Lead the way."
They arrived at the wine cellar—an underground room filled with rows of clay jars sealed with red cloth. The moment they stepped inside, the air turned icy cold.
A woman's soft weeping echoed from within the darkness.
"Don't listen to it," Zhang Yuanqing warned in a low voice. "It's a lure."
They moved carefully through the cellar until Huomo pointed out a jar that had a faint red glow emanating from under the lid.
Zhang Yuanqing stepped forward and peeled back the red cloth.
Inside was a jar of blood-colored medicinal wine, thick and viscous. A shriveled tongue floated on the surface.
[You have collected one of the wedding gifts: Medicinal Wine.]
Just as he sealed the jar again, a scream erupted behind them.
A woman in white stood at the cellar entrance, her head twisted at an unnatural angle. Her long black hair covered most of her face, but her one visible eye was bloodshot and full of hatred.
"Run!" Zhang Yuanqing shouted.
They bolted out of the cellar as the ghost let out a shriek and surged after them. Qitian Dasheng tripped, but Huomo yanked him back to his feet, and they slammed the cellar door shut behind them.
"Only the wedding quilt left," Zhang Yuanqing said, panting.
Xie Lingxi wiped the sweat from her brow. "Where would that be?"
Zhang Yuanqing looked toward the main building.
"The bridal chamber."
The main building stood silent and oppressive, like a beast watching them approach.
They reached the entrance of the bridal chamber. The double doors were painted a faded red, adorned with old wedding couplets that had long since peeled and curled with age. A tattered red veil hung from the top of the frame, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze—even though there was no wind.
Zhang Yuanqing reached out and pushed the doors open with a loud creak.
Inside, the chamber was shrouded in shadow. A red bridal bed stood in the center, covered by a canopy of gauze. A pair of red candles burned faintly on either side, though no one had lit them.
Everything in the room was decorated for a wedding. But it felt more like a funeral.
On the bed was a wedding quilt, intricately embroidered with a golden dragon and phoenix. The patterns shimmered subtly, as if alive.
[You have collected one of the wedding gifts: Dragon-Phoenix Quilt.]
As Zhang Yuanqing stepped forward to retrieve it, the red gauze suddenly dropped.
The doors slammed shut behind them.
A gust of cold wind blew out the candles.
Then came the sound of footsteps.
Someone—or something—was walking slowly across the wooden floor.
Xie Lingxi gasped, "She's here…"
The bridal curtain was lifted from inside.
A pale bride emerged. Her face was blank, but her eyes oozed dark resentment. She was dressed in a crimson gown, her black hair trailing like ink behind her. In her hand, she held a severed head—it was her own.
Qitian Dasheng muttered hoarsely, "We're too late…"
The bride raised her head—literally—and spoke in a voice that echoed like two overlapping tones:
"Where is my groom?"
Suddenly, the air grew thick. The ghost bride moved, appearing instantly before Zhang Yuanqing.
But just as her icy fingers were about to touch him—
Boom!
The roof shook.
The ancestral bell began to toll.
Dong... Dong...
Each deep note reverberated through the compound, dispersing the cold yin energy.
The ghost bride let out a blood-curdling shriek and slowly began to dissolve into a red mist.
At the same time, a system prompt rang out:
[You have completed the side quest: "Deliver the Betrothal Gifts."Ghost Bride's resentment has been temporarily suppressed.Main plotline updated.]
Zhang Yuanqing exhaled heavily.
"We're not done yet," he said, turning to the others. "This wedding isn't over."