“Fine, I’ll play along with this wedding-for-luck,” Jiang Luo said flatly. “But why drug me when I arrived?”
Chi You, still in the form of a youth, looked at him for a few seconds, then leaned closer with a laugh that sent a chill down Jiang Luo’s spine. “Ah, so you didn’t know.”
Jiang Luo felt as if he were facing a venomous snake flicking out its tongue. But Chi You simply smiled more brightly, enthusiastically recounting the Chi family’s twisted lore. “Every direct wife in the Chi family dies young. None have lived past thirty. My father didn’t want to harm anyone, but the clan forced him to marry my mother. He tried to break the curse by marrying someone older—someone who had already passed thirty—but all the divinations only matched him with young women. Sure enough, my mother also died young. When it came to me, I didn’t want to bring harm to others either, but the clan kept pushing. So I had no choice but to let them choose a male spouse for me first.”
He gently tucked a strand of Jiang Luo’s hair behind his ear. His fingers were ice-cold as they brushed his earlobe. “And so you married into the Chi family, to bring me luck. Don’t worry—you’re not a woman, and your birth chart shows longevity. You’ve got eight more years until thirty. If we make it past that, and you help me break the curse, the Chi family will let you go—and reward both you and the Jiang family generously.”
Chi You smiled apologetically, his brows furrowed in worry. “Though we’re husband and wife in name, in reality we’re more like brothers. Feel free to live however you like. Don’t feel constrained. It’s really a hardship to ask you to stay with me for eight years.”
His expression was sincere, tone earnest, seemingly full of heartfelt emotion. Such a graceful, elegant young man—yet burdened with such a pitiful fate—this posture, this demeanor… Even a god with a heart of stone might feel compassion.
So this was the mask Chi You wore while he was alive?
No wonder he could deceive so many, both in and out of the book. Who could look at this frowning, beautiful youth and think he was actually devious and cruel?
Jiang Luo followed his lead, mimicking the performance, and forced a laugh. “No hardship at all. Not even a bit.”
After this whole exchange, Jiang Luo was sure—this Chi You was definitely not the ghostly monster Chi You had become. This was the real Chi You in his youth.
Which made it even more interesting.
Jiang Luo looked at him, already itching to stir things up.
Chi You stood and undid his robes. “Let’s rest, then.”
Though only eighteen, his figure was already tall and slender. His every move was elegant, aristocratic. If not for the pallor of his skin, no one would guess he had been ill for years.
“Oh, right,” he suddenly turned to Jiang Luo, “do you want to bathe?”
Jiang Luo had just been looking for a chance to clear his head and maybe search for the others who had been pulled into this mirror world. He nodded.
Chi You said, “Out the door, turn right. It’s the room at the very end. Go ahead.”
Jiang Luo casually found a change of clothes in the wardrobe and was about to head out when Chi You, still facing away and unbuttoning his shirt, slowly said: “The floor’s slippery. Be careful in there.”
His tone rose slightly at the end.
Jiang Luo caught the hint in his voice. “Thanks for the reminder. Got it.”
The door closed, leaving Chi You alone in the room.
He continued undressing, unhurried. What had appeared to be a slim figure now revealed a body with lean muscle and hidden strength.
He lifted the jarringly bright red bedding, laid down, and leisurely picked up a book from the nightstand.
His youthful features, partially obscured by the pages, now carried a vague hint of cold, cruel malice. He flipped a page.
“How many days can he last before he dies?”
The room was silent, yet he seemed to hear something, and chuckled lazily. “If he survives tonight, I’ll be very surprised.”
The sky outside was overcast.
Jiang Luo stood in the corridor, watching the sky for a while before heading toward the bathroom.
Weddings emphasize auspicious days and good timing—joyous events are best held under bright daylight. But now, with the sunlight obscured, Jiang Luo couldn’t tell what time it was. Judging by the sky, though, it was clearly not suitable for a wedding.
The atmosphere was eerie with ghostly energy—more like a time when demons roamed.
Jiang Luo walked all the way to the bathroom without seeing Lian Xue or anyone else. The bathroom was divided into two rooms. The one on the left had the characters “Young Master Jiang” written on the door, clearly indicating it was a private bath.
Jiang Luo entered the left room and saw a layer of white cloth dividing the space into two sections—an outer area for changing clothes and an inner bathing area. On the wall of the outer section, a white paper was posted with bathing schedules: when water would be heated each day and the best times for the young masters to bathe. Jiang Luo placed his change of clothes on a bench, pulled aside the white curtain, and saw a white porcelain bathtub inside.
There were no showers yet—only bathtubs. The tub was already filled with hot water. Jiang Luo tested the temperature—it was pleasantly just right. Satisfied, he undressed and sank into the tub.
The sound of water splashing softly. As Jiang Luo closed his eyes and washed his hair, a stray strand of hair tickled his shoulder. He reached out to brush it off—only to find a handful of fallen hair.
Startled, he reached again—and got another clump.
Was he going bald?
Jiang Luo opened his eyes and looked at his hand. A messy bunch of black hair—thick like underwater weeds. With a strange expression, he looked toward his shoulder. A lock of hair, as thick as a thumb, dangled there. He grasped it and gently pulled—surprisingly, it came off painlessly, the entire thick lock falling away in one go.
“…”
Just as his heart sank, Jiang Luo realized something was wrong. This hair was much longer than his own.
He looked up toward the ceiling—and saw a human head hanging upside down. Its scalp was rotting, and chunks of hair and flesh were dropping down onto Jiang Luo.
His heart skipped a beat. Instantly, his face turned grim. He sprang up from the tub, braced his legs on the tub’s edge, and in one fierce motion, grabbed that long-haired head.
With force in his wrist, he slammed the head hard against the floor. The moment it hit the ground—it vanished.
Jiang Luo’s face was dark. He drained the tub, refilled it with clean water, and scrubbed his shoulder vigorously.
Minutes passed, and he sensed someone approaching. He looked toward the white curtain—there was a vague silhouette.
“Who’s there?” Jiang Luo asked.
The silhouette didn’t respond but kept drawing closer. The blur became the shapely figure of a woman. Jiang Luo’s voice grew colder, placing his middle finger against his lips. He asked again, “Who are you?”
The next second, the silhouette lunged forward through the curtain. Behind the white cloth, pale skin became faintly visible. Shadows sank in where the eyes and mouth should be. It looked as if the curtain itself had transformed into a ghost.
Jiang Luo calmly bit his fingertip and flicked a drop of blood onto the curtain.
Like acid, thick white smoke hissed from the fabric. Moments later, the curtain stilled without a breeze.
Seizing the moment, Jiang Luo quickly finished his bath and got dressed.
***
Chi You closed the book in his hands and glanced at the western-style clock in the corner.
An hour had passed, but his newlywed “wife” still hadn’t returned.
Chances were… already dead.
Casually, he picked up another book, a trace of boredom on his face—as if things had gone just as expected.
The Chi family was a swamp—a living h*ll. Anyone who knew their brides never lived long but still married in for money… well, even if they died, it was no great loss.
Only a waste of his time at the altar.
He reached out and undid the bed curtains. The bright red fabric fell together, sealing off the bridal bed. Just as Chi You turned to the first page of his book, a pale hand slipped in between the curtains.
The hand was long-fingered, slender and well-defined. Under the red veil, it carried a misty ambiguity that young boys had never touched. Steam still clung to it with the fresh scent of bathwater. It slowly grasped the bed drapes and lifted them aside.
Jiang Luo, with dripping hair, appeared before Chi You’s eyes.
He was perfectly unharmed, a healthy flush on his cheeks. Steam rose from his hair, his expression annoyed, lips pressed tightly.
Chi You’s pupils shrank slightly. Then, without a trace, he sat up and asked gently, “Why did you take so long to come back?”
Jiang Luo pulled a smile. “Had a little unexpected incident.” He glanced around. “Got a dry towel for my hair?”
Chi You got out of bed and brought him a towel. As Jiang Luo dried his hair, Chi You quietly scanned him from head to toe—including the toiletries he was holding.
The wedding robe Jiang Luo had changed out of sat in a wooden basin, apparently undamaged. The lighting was too dim to see whether it was stained with blood.
Regardless, this “new wife” had truly caught him off guard.
The “new wife” asked coldly, “What are you looking at?”
The boy in his sleepwear replied softly, “I was wondering what kind of accident you encountered.”
“Nothing worth mentioning,” Jiang Luo draped the towel over his head, then smiled brightly. “Good brother, come sit down.”
Chi You’s brow twitched slightly, but he walked over.
Jiang Luo patted the spot beside him. Chi You sat down. Jiang Luo gazed at him tenderly. “Thanks for the warning earlier—otherwise I would’ve taken a nasty fall.”
Chi You replied, “It was nothing.”
Jiang Luo’s tone turned syrupy. “Even though we’re good brothers, today is our big day. Shouldn’t we do a little ceremony?”
Chi You: “Hm?”
“Like how old-time couples would bind their hair,” Jiang Luo pulled a thick lock of hair, thumb-thick, from his pocket and grinned. “I prepared this in the bath to tie with yours. Chi You, you should pluck a lock too.”
Chi You stared silently at the hair—almost enough for half a head—then suddenly lowered his head and chuckled.
He laughed so hard he rubbed his brow. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect… you to have so much hair.”
Jiang Luo let out two friendly laughs. Seeing that Chi You wasn’t budging to cut his own hair, he rolled his eyes and simply threw the ghost’s long hair at him. “If you’re not cutting yours tonight, then keep this safe for me.”
Chi You agreed softly and watched Jiang Luo lie down on the bed.
A flicker passed through his eyes. He casually tossed the hair into the corner, blew out the candle, and got back into bed.
Jiang Luo had shared beds with many people. All men—friends or brothers—it was perfectly normal. But Chi You… fortunately, Chi You still looked like a teenage boy, or else Jiang Luo would have been too tense to sleep at all.
Even so, that didn’t mean young Chi You was someone he could let his guard down around. Jiang Luo slept poorly that night and even dreamed of being suffocated by a giant black python.
He jolted awake from the nightmare. The light outside the window was cool and dim. Jiang Luo panted heavily, sweat beading on his forehead.
The bed curtain was pulled back. Chi You stood beside the bed, backlit by the pale morning light. Jiang Luo couldn’t see his expression, but his tone seemed quite cheerful. “You’re awake.”
Jiang Luo slowly sat up. Chi You stepped back, and the light fell across half of his face. The boundary between light and shadow blurred, and his still-youthful features suddenly appeared twisted and eerie.
The corners of his mouth lifted—his smile perfectly measured, as if calculated.
“It’s time for breakfast,” he said.
Jiang Luo stared at him, suddenly fully awake. Compared to this, the two ghosts from the bath last night were child’s play.
At breakfast, Jiang Luo saw Lian Xue again. After the meal, he used the excuse of wanting to take a look around the Chi residence and asked Lian Xue to show him the way. Only then did he get a chance to speak to her alone.
In a low voice, Lian Xue said, “I talked to Lian Qiang and Lian Bing last night. They’re waiting at the rock garden in the backyard. Let’s go there first.”
Hidden within the rock garden in the backyard was a concealed cave. When Lian Xue led Jiang Luo inside, it was already full of people.
Not only were Lian Qiang and Lian Bing there, but also four young students from the photography club—making eight people in total.
Lian Qiang waved at them and was the first to look at Jiang Luo, asking curiously, “Senior Brother, I heard the one who got married into the family yesterday was you. Is that true?”
Jiang Luo glanced at him. Lian Qiang gave a sheepish laugh and quickly changed the subject. “Let’s all talk about our identities.”
Among the eight, Jiang Luo had the highest status. He was the newlywed wife of the Chi family’s only legitimate young master. Qin Yun came next—she was the chief maid in the elder’s residence. Lian Qiang and Du Ge were young attendants in Chi You’s front court. Lian Bing and Duan Zi did odd jobs in the kitchen, and Li Xiao was a maid attending to a girl from a collateral branch.
Jiang Luo pondered aloud, “Looks like our roles are all minor ones that don’t attract much attention.”
“You’re the exception,” Qin Yun said. “You’re the legitimate young master’s wife.”
“This family is cursed. The wives of the legitimate line all die young. As someone destined to die sooner or later, a ‘walking corpse,’ I won’t draw much attention,” Jiang Luo explained.
The others grew thoughtful. Lian Bing, who was even sharper than his senior Lian Qiang, raised his hand and asked, “Did any of you hear a voice when you woke up?”
“You mean the voice that told us to kill the malicious ghost?” Du Ge frowned.
Lian Bing nodded. “I remember it clearly. That voice said only one thing to me—‘As long as you kill the malicious ghost, you can leave.’ I work as a kitchen hand. The job’s tiring, and I don’t come into contact with the main household, but I can interact with people outside. This morning, when I went to pick up ingredients, I overheard the vendors talking about a string of murder cases in town.”
“Murder cases?”
Lian Bing simply squatted down and started drawing on the ground with a twig to help himself remember. “They said nearly ten people have died in town. Each died in a bizarre way. One dies every few days—it’s caused panic, and now people don’t dare go out after dark. I heard them whispering and caught a word—”
He wrote two characters on the ground: ‘malicious ghost’.
“These vendors believe the killer is a malicious ghost consumed by resentment.”
Lian Xue fell into deep thought, but Du Ge said, “Whether or not the malicious ghost is outside, I still think the one we’re supposed to find has something to do with the Chi family. The one thing we eight have in common is that we’re all here, in the Chi residence.”
“But the Chi residence is so huge. How do we find the ghost? And even if we do, how do we kill it?”
Everyone fell silent.
Suddenly, Duan Zi hugged his head and squatted down, choking back sobs and apologizing, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the game would turn out like this. It’s all my fault. If only I hadn’t mentioned that command…”
Li Xiao also crouched down beside him, carefully helping wipe his tears.
Qin Yun’s expression turned grim. She picked at her nails. “Stop crying. What good will that do now? I didn’t even believe in ghosts before… What rotten luck. We never should’ve come up the mountain.”
Lian Xue sighed softly and offered comforting words. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way out. As for killing the malicious ghost,” she smiled faintly, unconcerned, “there’s a way.”
Qin Yun immediately pressed, “What way?”
Lian Xue looked at Jiang Luo. “Senior Brother, I’m good at treating the sick. But when it comes to this sort of thing, it’s your area of expertise.”
Jiang Luo’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t bring up the malicious ghost and instead asked, “Since entering this world, have any of you encountered a ghost?”
The seven people all shook their heads.
Jiang Luo’s eyelid twitched. He wasn’t sure if this was just his bad luck, or what Feng Li had said about attracting the attention of yin things. He steadied himself and continued, “Mirrors belong to yin. They’re mysterious, deeply connected to the unknown. We were looking into a mirror at midnight when we were pulled into the mirror world—that hour is when ghostly energy is at its peak. And a world inside a mirror is bound to be eerie and sinister. There’s definitely more than one ghost in this world. As for the ‘malicious ghost’—how evil must a ghost be to qualify as an malicious ghost? Which ghost is it? We don’t know a thing.”
In truth, the moment Jiang Luo heard the words “malicious ghost,” the first person he thought of was Chi You.
But the Chi You in this world hadn’t turned into an malicious ghost yet, so he set that aside for now. More importantly, the requirement from whoever was behind this was: only by killing the malicious ghost could they leave. That feeling of being coerced into doing something left a bitter taste in his mouth.
After Jiang Luo finished speaking, Lian Xue and the other two showed no change in expression. The four university students from the ordinary school, on the other hand, were completely dumbfounded. Qin Yun looked at him strangely. “You’re not, like Duanzi, also into all that supernatural stuff in your free time, are you?”
Jiang Luo gave a casual smile and suddenly raised his hands, forming a mudra in front of him. “Position of Xun, wind.”
A sharp gust of wind rose up from the ground, swirling violently and whipping at their clothes.
Dust and dead leaves were caught in the wind. It grew stronger and stronger, almost sweeping up to the roof of the cave.
Everyone stared, wide-eyed, unable to look away even as their hair turned into a mess. Their entire worldview was on the verge of collapse.
Jiang Luo said, “Disperse.”
The whirlwind vanished abruptly into the air. Dust and broken leaves rained down from above, making everyone cough violently. They waved away the floating debris with their hands, eyes locked tightly onto Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo—who had practiced this move out of boredom for ten days back in the Lian house but had never used it until now—gave a relaxed smile and let his hands fall. “From now on, you’ll all listen to my commands. Any objections?”
“No, no, not at all!”
