Chapter 120
Chapter 120
The two of them had only just left the cemetery when scattered raindrops began to fall from the sky.
Perhaps it was the rain, but Qiao Yu’s mood was far from bright. Since they had come on a heavy motorcycle, the two decided to find somewhere nearby to take shelter for the time being.
Fortunately, while the area around the cemetery was desolate, there was a pavilion by the road for passersby to rest.
The moment they stepped into the pavilion, a tremendous, muffled clap of thunder rolled across the sky-boom!
Immediately after, bean-sized raindrops came pelting down, crackling like beans being fried in a pan. Along the roadside, across the water’s surface, they splashed up one white spray after another…
Shang Yan took out a tissue and wiped the rain from Qiao Yu’s face. Qiao Yu narrowed his eyes, looking as if he were enjoying it.
His rain-dampened cheeks were still pale, yet there was a faint vitality to them now. His crimson lips were thin and vivid…
As Shang Yan wiped, the gesture gradually changed in nature. His warm fingertips gently brushed Qiao Yu’s cool cheek, and he suddenly asked, “After you became a ghost, why didn’t you come find me?”
Qiao Yu froze slightly at that. Slowly, he opened his eyes, his mood sinking for no clear reason. “I don’t know…”
The moment the words left his mouth, the sound of wind, rain, and thunder around Shang Yan seemed to fall into hibernation all at once, brewing a long stretch of silence.
For some reason, Qiao Yu felt inexplicably guilty. That baseless guilt threw off the rhythm of his breathing, making it quicken.
“Then why can’t anyone find any past information on this body of yours? It’s as if it appeared out of thin air.”
Qiao Yu blinked, his voice almost inaudible. “I don’t know…”
But a fragment would vaguely surface in his mind: he was in a pitch-black cave… shaping a face.
Shaping a face as if it were modeling clay.
The sheer horror of it was enough to make cold sweat break out just thinking about it.
The more Qiao Yu thought about it, the faster his heart beat.
He could never stop himself from wondering whether he might be some kind of monster…
Shang Yan saw every motion as Qiao Yu kept rubbing the center of his palm with his fingertips. He shifted his gaze away and looked instead at the little wildflowers swaying endlessly by the roadside.
He did not know how long had passed. It seemed like only a few seconds, yet also like an entire century, when he suddenly heard Qiao Yu ask in a cautious voice,
“Shang Yan, how much do you like me?”
This was the first time Qiao Yu had ever asked such a question, and also the first time he had shown this kind of anxious, insecure emotion.
Shang Yan answered very quickly. He said, “Very much.”
It made Qiao Yu feel as if none of this were real. He could not help comparing, could not help doubting. “For example?”
Bright lightning, like silver snakes, shuttled through the sky, again and again bringing brief flashes of light to the dim pavilion.
Shang Yan stared at the crimson lips so close before him. His amber eyes began to turn into a bottomless pool, flickering between light and shadow.
Almost in the next instant, Qiao Yu’s waist was firmly seized by one hand. Their lips and teeth met, their breaths drowning between their mouths before struggling out through the gaps. Qiao Yu instinctively raised his hands to push him away, but Shang Yan easily stopped him.
Muffled words began to echo by his ear…
One kiss, one sentence, broken and intermittent. “There is no example.”
“I like you… very, very much.”
“I only like you…”
“I can’t imagine anything that could compare with you…”
“Specially, uniquely, I like you.”
Qiao Yu’s breath caught. A sour ache rose in his chest. A sudden, inexplicable weariness swept over him, and after his eyelids struggled a few times to no avail, they finally closed slowly.
[Beep, beep, beep-the Live Stream Room is loading…]
[Loading complete.]
[The name of this Instance is-Imperial City Storm. This Instance is an entertainment live stream. Mission requirement: film the movie until filming ends. There is no time limit. Only after the movie wraps may survivors escape the Instance.]
[This mission does not require the streamer to do a post-run review. A Review Card may be used as an NG Card to skip the current plot. Note: There are only three Review Card items inside the Instance. First come, first served.]
[Before the mission begins, please draw your Character Card.]
Qiao Yu sucked in a sharp breath. Staring at the glittering golden cards before him, he fell silent.
Damn it. Why did this Live Stream Room have to be so inconsiderate?
Shang Yan wouldn’t think he’d kissed him into unconsciousness, would he??
Qiao Yu clutched his forehead in agony and casually tapped a pale-gold card. The next second, that all-too-familiar sensation of being yanked away seized his body.
[Ding-Draw complete. The script will be issued after the first scene is filmed.]
Night fell over a wedding procession grand enough to stretch for miles.
The clang of gongs rang endlessly, while the suona slowly played a melody filled with an inexplicable, mournful sorrow.
When Shang Yan opened his eyes, all he saw was a rich, blazing red.
At that moment, his center of gravity kept shifting, as if someone were carrying him forward.
Shang Yan lifted the red cloth in front of his eyes and looked up at the square ceiling of the sedan chair, muttering, “We’ve entered the Instance?”
He must have followed Qiao Yu inside.
The Live Stream Assistant had said this mission was a filming task. He wondered what role he had drawn.
He lowered his gaze to his clothes and raised his arm slightly.
The sleeves of the garment were extraordinarily wide, embroidered with gold thread. Over it lay a fuchsia bridal cape with golden tassels, the hem trailing roughly three feet across the floor. Two pairs of mandarin ducks were patterned on it, with pearl tassels hanging on either side.
This was actually a bridal dress!
Shang Yan immediately felt like he was about to have a heart attack. So the role he’d drawn was a female character?
A man dressed as a woman? Cross-casting?
He clicked his tongue in disgust and reached out to lift the sedan curtain. Outside was a dense crowd of people, the nighttime marketplace thick with the smoke and bustle of ordinary life.
At the same time, faint conversations drifted from the crowd.
“Hey, did you see that? What a grand wedding procession.”
“Who holds a wedding in the middle of the night?”
“The Prince of Lanling.”
“Didn’t the Prince of Lanling pass away not long ago? Then… is this a ghost marriage?”
More and more people on both sides joined the conversation. “Huh? Whose daughter is he marrying?”
“No one’s daughter. He’s marrying that famous opera performer-Tao Zhuyue.”
“Good heavens, Tao Zhuyue? This… is she doing it willingly?”
“What does it matter if she’s willing or not? Once the imperial decree came down, she had to marry whether she wanted to or not. Isn’t she just going there to live as a widow? Once she marries over, her name can be entered into the Royal Genealogy Register. A famous performer becomes a princess consort overnight!”
“True enough. If the Prince of Lanling hadn’t spent his life pining after Tao Zhuyue, even a ghost marriage probably wouldn’t have fallen to a lowly performer from the bottom ranks…”
Just then, someone seemed to notice the sedan curtain had been lifted and looked up.
The corners of that person’s mouth were slightly raised, as if smiling, yet the curve remained fixed at an eerie angle. They looked like… a paper effigy come to life.
Almost instantly, a gloomy aura spread above the crowd. Every single “person” turned to look in unison, their heads tilting up at an unnervingly identical angle.
The voices vanished in an instant. The silence was so complete one could hear a pin drop.
Only then did he notice that the bridal sedan was covered all around with paper Soul-summoning Banner, forming a jarring contrast against the sedan’s vivid red.
Suddenly, a hand mottled with black spots reached in and forcefully pulled the curtain down. “Bride, keep your red veil on. We’re about to enter the gate!”
The moment the curtain fell, noise surged back in. The suona, which had stopped at some unknown point, burst into a high, triumphant tune, overflowing with festivity…