Chapter 78
Chapter 78
The bride sat before the hall in green wedding robes. Her brilliant beauty was incomparable, yet her expression remained dazed and her eyes dull. She resembled an exquisite doll awaiting sacrifice to a monster.
Witnessing a wedding amid this hellscape made every hair on the brothers’ bodies rise.
A Blood Moon, walking corpses. No ordinary demon could create such a scene.
They tried to flee, but the courtyard gate was sealed. Black mist surrounded the estate, filled with countless watching green eyes.
“S-Senior Brother… what do we do?” The junior feared the corpses would attack, and his taut nerves made him stammer.
His senior was equally pale. “D-don’t panic. We only need to break the formation.”
Among all the mutilated walking corpses, only the bride remained intact. She did not belong in this bloody absurdity.
The brothers gathered their courage and entered the hall, where they discovered something stranger.
“Senior Brother, at a normal wedding, don’t the elders sit above while the bride serves tea? Those elders are kneeling while the bride sits in the chair. Everything is backward!”
“Yes. Why?”
“Naturally, because no one may sit above my bride.”
The unexpected voice was gentle and clear, touched by a faint smile. It resembled wind passing through bamboo or the first sunlight of spring, warm enough to soften the heart.
But in this blood-soaked place, its warmth became even more terrifying.
The brothers stiffly looked up. A smiling young man had appeared in the chair beside the bride.
His red robes looked drenched in blood and merged with the crimson surroundings. A white silk blindfold made his exquisite face resemble carved jade. His lips held a warm, springlike smile.
Yet the more beautiful he appeared, the more he resembled a gorgeous ghost from the depths of hell.
The young man took the bride’s hand. Red-clad groom and green-clad bride looked strangely harmonious.
“You came to drink at our wedding, did you not? Where are your gifts?”
That single question made the brothers’ scalps prickle.
Without gifts, would they leave behind a hand like these corpses, or a foot?
This wedding belonged unmistakably to the dead. What sort of person would hold it?
No. He was not even human.
From their first glance, the brothers knew they could never defeat him. Not even the Demon-Subduing Sword would help.
They turned to run. The “guests” at the tables suddenly moved. Like puppets, they rose stiffly and lunged. The men flung talismans, but could not delay them for an instant. Helpless, they were dragged down by blood-soaked corpses.
The red-robed young man lounged against his chair, head tilted and lips curved faintly. His beauty bordered upon the demonic.
“Two meat dishes have been added to the wedding feast. Eat your fill.”
The brothers paled in terror.
“No… please!”
“Spare us, Lord Ghost King!”
Bloody mouths opened and tore away flesh bite by bite. Their pleas soon drowned beneath wet sounds of chewing.
The bride watched blankly without reaction.
The seventeen-year-old groom took a moment to remember that he should be considerate. Leaning forward, he blocked the bride’s view so she could see only his face.
“Yingying doesn’t like blood, does she?”
She nodded sluggishly. “I don’t.”
Shen Qingyu had never understood why Qiao Ying disliked blood and killing in a world where life was as cheap as grass. She seemed to come from another world, entirely unlike his own.
But that did not matter. From this day onward, they were husband and wife.
On the full moon of the fifteenth, every Chimei Wangliang emerged. They witnessed the wedding through the fog and learned that she was his mate. He and she would remain entangled through every lifetime, their boundaries forever impossible to separate.
The blood-soaked Demon-Subduing Sword suddenly shook violently. It leaped from its sheath and cleaved through the mountain of walking corpses, flying with frigid sword light toward the source of the demonic aura.
Cold condensed through the air, slowing it. Frost covered its tip until it stopped one inch before the young man.
The soul hidden within the sword appeared faintly. Seeing the scene, she called, “Fairy Sister!”
Qiao Ying looked at the Living Soul and slowly smiled. “Ding Lingling, you came to my wedding too.”
“Wait, something is wrong with you…”
Frost covered the sword completely. Before Ding Ling could finish, her soul vanished into the blade.
Shen Qingyu tapped the sword with one finger. It rang, trembled, and returned to its sheath, falling silent.
The wedding had been lively enough. He was satisfied.
Shen Qingyu stood and kicked the kneeling Master Shen and Madam Shen. They toppled, their heads rolling away like broken puppets. If they broke, so be it.
Taking Qiao Ying’s hand, he smiled gently. “Yingying, it is time for our wedding night.”
Qiao Ying followed him across the blood-scented courtyard. Hanging corpses and the red pond still bubbling with bones meant nothing. She saw only him.
They entered the room, and the door closed.
Shen Qingyu seated Qiao Ying before the dressing table and removed her hairpins and makeup.
In the bronze mirror, his fingers caressed her face. Leaning against her head, he asked with a smile, “Yingying, this is your first marriage too. Weddings are very interesting, aren’t they?”
Qiao Ying nodded. “Interesting.”
“Are you tired?”
“Yes.”
“Then let us sleep early.”
Shen Qingyu carried her to bed. As always, he slept on the outside, trapping her between himself and the wall so she could not escape in the night.
He tucked the quilt around her and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Sleep, Yingying.”
Qiao Ying closed her eyes.
Shen Qingyu held her hand beneath the quilt and lay facing her, his fingertips stroking her palm. Silence lingered.
She no longer chatted before sleep or asked what he wanted to eat tomorrow. She did not ask whether he was cold or needed her to “cure” him. He was unaccustomed to such a silent Qiao Ying.
But perhaps this was marriage. Given time, he would adjust.
Shen Qingyu gathered her into his arms and fell asleep comfortably, breathing in her scent.
Before long, Qiao Ying opened her eyes.
“Why won’t you consummate our marriage?”
Shen Qingyu’s lips moved. “Yingying, we are sleeping in the same room.”
He believed that was what consummation meant.
But she repeated, “Why won’t you consummate our marriage?”
After a moment, Shen Qingyu propped himself above her, trying to explain. “Yingying, we are already consummating it.”
She stared stubbornly. “Why won’t you consummate our marriage?”
He became equally stubborn. “Yingying, we have. We completed every wedding ritual.”
“No.”
“How not?”
Qiao Ying said, “You haven’t taken off our clothes.”
After a long silence, Shen Qingyu tilted his head.
Did marriage require removing one’s clothes?