The two large red wooden doors silently swung open. Inside, it was pitch-black, with only a small area beyond the threshold illuminated by the red light from outside. The heavy darkness lay just beyond this red glow, as if it were waiting to swallow anyone who dared to step inside.
Li Zhi led the way and was the first to cross the threshold.
Once all six people had entered, the wooden doors creaked shut behind them. The light from outside was completely sealed off, and the room plunged into impenetrable darkness.
Just as the players started to feel tense, six lanterns suddenly lit up a few meters ahead.
The dim red light barely illuminated their surroundings. Six narrow arched doors appeared before them, each topped with a red lantern bearing the character for “happiness” (囍). Apart from their positions, the six doors were identical.
“What does this mean?” Owen Dong swallowed nervously. “Do we each have to go through a different door?”
Li Zhi surveyed the area. Apart from the silent arches, there was nothing else.
“It looks like this is a single-player mission,” she said. “The staff mentioned that this is an immersive haunted house. Once inside, we’ll probably be assigned roles. These six doors represent six random identities, each with a different task.”
You Jingmeng shuddered. “The haunted house is called ‘The Red Wedding Dress.’ There won’t be identity cards involving a ghost bride or groom, right?”
The thought of possibly becoming part of a ghost wedding, where they would have to marry the dead, left everyone feeling suffocated.
Chi Yi tried to reassure the group. “Don’t worry, there are six roles in total, so at most, only one of them will involve something like that.”
Owen Dong looked like he was about to cry. “Whoever gets that unlucky role… I feel for them.”
Li Zhi walked around the arches but didn’t find any additional clues. She turned back and said, “This haunted house is like a game within the game. Think of it as entering a new sub-level. Once inside, we’ll have to adapt to whatever happens. After you get your role card, make sure you don’t give yourself away. If your identity is suspected, it could cause problems. If we get separated, try to figure out the situation in the sub-level and find a way to regroup quickly. We should agree on a sign to leave in visible places.”
“SOS!” Han Wenlin quickly suggested. “It’s distinct and recognizable!”
No one had any objections. “Alright, SOS it is.”
“Okay,” Li Zhi said, “Let’s choose a door.”
Each door corresponded to a different identity card, and each identity might come with varying levels of danger. What role they would get was purely up to luck.
For a moment, everyone hesitated. Qi Yongyi stepped forward first. “I’ll go first.”
Without much thought, he headed straight for the first door on the left. Before stepping through, he turned and said in a serious tone to his teammates, “Be safe! Take care, everyone!”
Everyone nodded quickly.
Qi Yongyi walked through the first door, and the hazy red light swallowed his figure. Owen Dong nervously swallowed and stepped forward next. He looked around, hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and chose the third door.
Three was his lucky number. God help him!
The rest of the team quickly followed. You Jingmeng chose the second door, Chi Yi picked the fourth, and Han Wenlin went for the fifth.
Li Zhi was the last one left, so she entered the sixth door.
As the red light enveloped her, her consciousness, just like in every other game instance, briefly faded. When she opened her eyes again, the small room behind the door had vanished. Li Zhi found herself standing in a courtyard draped in red cloth. The sky seemed to be just on the edge of dawn, with a faint blue hue in the distance. Half a moon hung behind the clouds, not yet fully faded.
Li Zhi looked around. It seemed like the backyard of a wealthy family, with delicately arranged flowers and plants, clearly tended by someone with time and leisure to spare.
The red decorations everywhere suggested that the family was celebrating a joyous occasion—either a wedding or a marriage. This likely meant she was about to become part of a ghost marriage.
Li Zhi was about to return to the room behind her to search for clues when the courtyard door suddenly opened. A young woman dressed as a maid walked in. Upon seeing Li Zhi standing in the courtyard, the maid quickly said, “Madam, why are you up so early?”
Madam?
Li Zhi calmly nodded. “I couldn’t sleep, so I got up.”
The maid responded, “Miss is getting married today. You must be too anxious, madam. Don’t worry, everything has been arranged, and the wedding will surely go smoothly.”
She walked forward and added, “Let me help you wash and dress. When the sun rises, it’ll be time for you to send Miss off.”
It seemed that the identity card Li Zhi had received was that of the bride’s mother.
She couldn’t help but wonder about this ghost marriage—whether both parties were dead or if only one of them was. According to folklore, if the man dies and the woman marries him, it’s called a “Baozhu” marriage, and if the woman dies and the man marries her, it’s called “Qu Gu Niang”. So, was this “daughter” of hers dead or alive?
Li Zhi followed the maid into the room behind her. The interior was decorated lavishly, exuding wealth at every corner. However, upon a closer look, she realized that the room only showed signs of female occupants—there were no men’s belongings or clothing.
Li Zhi deduced that her “husband” was most likely dead. Otherwise, on the night before their daughter’s wedding, it would be odd for the couple to be sleeping apart.
But then again, this period seemed to mirror older times. In such wealthy families, unless the man was a live-in son-in-law, it was common for men to take concubines. Perhaps her husband was spending the night with one of his concubines?
Li Zhi thought to herself that it would be much better if he were indeed dead.
Sitting down in front of the vanity, the reflection in the mirror was still her own face.
But her clothes had changed. Instead of the practical jacket she had worn when entering the instance, she was now dressed in a traditional red padded robe and skirt. The maid helped her style her hair into an old-fashioned bun, one typically seen in period dramas. Li Zhi had done similar hairstyles when she acted in Republican-era films before.
It felt like she was filming again.
Li Zhi raised a hand to touch her styled hair and smiled at the maid through the mirror. “Not bad craftsmanship.”
The maid blushed, then heard Li Zhi ask, “How is Miss doing?”
“I just came from Yayu Court. The young master and Hudie are with her,” the maid replied.
Young master… So, not only did Li Zhi have a daughter, but also a son.
As for “Hudie,” it didn’t sound like the name of a lady from the household, so it was probably the maid who specifically served her “daughter.”
Li Zhi wondered if this young master and Hudie were players or NPCs.
Once her hair was done, the maid applied makeup to her. The powder puff left a thick layer of white powder on her face, carrying a strong scent of cosmetics. Li Zhi’s normally clean, natural face was plastered into a ghostly white, like a freshly painted wall. The maid then applied rouge, lipstick, and long, thin eyebrows.
Li Zhi glanced at herself in the mirror: ………
She barely looked different from a ghost.
The audience watching the scene nearly lost it:
[“Stop! What are you doing to that beautiful face!!]
[“Ahhhhh this is terrifying! She looks like one of those dead faces!]
[“Maid, please look at her—do you think this looks good?]
[“Is it possible that the maid sees a different face than what we’re seeing?]
[“Li Zhi’s character has two children now, and her daughter is about to get married. She’s probably in her forties. Maybe the NPCs in the game see her as her character’s actual age, which is why she needs such heavy makeup.]
[“Look at Li Zhi’s expression, hahaha. She seems as horrified as we are!]
- ••
Li Zhi wasn’t exactly panicking, but she was definitely speechless. Still, since the maid had applied the makeup so meticulously, there must be a reason behind it. Maybe this “madam” liked wearing her makeup this way. It was best not to question it, lest she arouse suspicion.
By the time Li Zhi was finished dressing and grooming, the sky outside had brightened. The maid helped her stand up. “Madam, the auspicious time is approaching. We should head to Yayu Court.”
Yayu Court was where the bride, the young miss, lived.
Li Zhi nodded, and with her ghostly pale face, she followed the maid toward Yayu Court.
As soon as they left the courtyard, she saw that the entire residence was draped in red silk, creating a festive atmosphere. Yayu Court wasn’t far from where she had been staying; after walking for about ten minutes, they arrived at a quaint and quiet courtyard, also decorated with red silk. The entrance had a large red “囍” character pasted on it, symbolizing double happiness for the wedding.
The maid pushed open the door, and Li Zhi followed her inside.
The air smelled faintly of burnt paper ashes that hadn’t yet dissipated.
Li Zhi glanced around and noticed that there were piles of ashes in the four corners of the courtyard, with remnants of unburned paper money scattered around. These paper notes were red, something she had never seen before.
The main house directly in front of the courtyard had its door open, and standing at the entrance was a young man in a long robe. When Li Zhi looked over, the man’s eyes met hers. Their gazes briefly crossed, and Li Zhi blinked.
The maid announced, “Young Master, Madam is here.”
Qi Yongyi gave Li Zhi a strained smile. “…Mother.”
Li Zhi replied smoothly, “Hmm.”
Qi Yongyi: “…………”
Help!!!
Li Zhi asked, “How is your sister?”
Qi Yongyi, clearly implying something, said, “Very peaceful. Don’t worry, Mother.”
Hearing him use the word peaceful, Li Zhi immediately understood.
Their eyes met again, and they both walked into the house. As soon as Li Zhi entered, she was hit with the stench of rotting flesh. Inside the room stood a large red wedding bed, draped in red from the beddings to the curtains. The quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks lay atop the bed, and a pair of brand-new red embroidered shoes sat at the foot, with colorful tassels hanging from the heels.
At the vanity on the side of the room, a woman dressed in a phoenix coronet and ceremonial red robe leaned against a maid for support. An elderly woman, squatting in front of her, was carefully applying makeup.
Upon seeing someone enter, the old woman lifted her head, her wrinkled face breaking into a smile. “Madam has arrived.”
The maid holding the bride, who was slumping down, turned her head. Li Zhi saw Chi Yi’s utterly devastated face, even paler than her own powdered visage. The moment Chi Yi spotted Li Zhi, a flicker of hope flashed in her eyes, and she looked at her with a desperate plea for help.
“Hu—Hudie!” the old woman suddenly scolded. “Hold the young miss properly!”
Chi Yi, barely holding herself together, steadied the bride in her arms.
Li Zhi approached and, through the copper mirror, saw the bride’s face—already decaying. The old woman was diligently applying layers of powder to the rotting skin, covering the decomposed areas until they were hidden beneath a thick layer of makeup. Only when the decaying flesh was fully concealed did she smile with satisfaction.