The Underworld Wedding

Su Mo had always considered herself courageous.

When everyone else watched horror movies, she remained completely unfazed, her expression serene.

Now, as she walked through the wailing, ghostly passageway, a sudden realization struck her.

It wasn’t courage; it was the certainty that there were no actual ghosts, so there was nothing to fear.

“Why does this cellar feel so vast?” she wondered, sweeping her gaze left and right, only to be met by impenetrable darkness.

She was clearly moving in one direction, yet she couldn’t seem to reach an end.

“Could this be a ‘ghost wall’ phenomenon?” Su Mo mused, a possibility dawning on her.

Sizzle!

A flash of lightning flickered at her fingertips, briefly illuminating her dark pupils.

“Woo-woo-woo…” Amidst the ethereal sounds of children playing, her vision began to fragment, splitting into two distinct, overlapping scenes.

After a few steps, one perspective seemed to spin in place, while the other continued to advance normally.

‘It truly is a ghost wall,’ Su Mo thought to herself.

As she walked, she followed the ‘spinning’ perspective, her body feeling as though it were turning, even as she was actually moving in a straight line.

Before long, a wall abruptly materialized before her, prompting Su Mo to halt her steps.

She extended a finger, a faint spark of lightning touching the wall and leaving a charred mark.

“It’s actually real,” she murmured.

Feeling along the wall, Su Mo continued her search until she genuinely discovered a wooden door.

This was likely the wooden door Bai Yunbo had mentioned, crafted from locust wood, which sealed off Yin energy and severed all vitality.

Anyone who remained inside for too long was destined to become a ‘living person’ devoid of life force.

In a sense, they would possess consciousness, yet their bodies would be dead, their last shred of sanity clinging solely to Yin energy.

Much like a tethered spirit, forever bound to a particular person, object, or place.

It was a form of puppetry, in its own way.

Beyond the locust wood door, the chaotic dance of demons she had imagined failed to materialize.

The moment she opened the door, all sounds fell silent.

The space was arranged like a small forest cabin, with a single window carved into its earthen wall.

Though underground, through that window, Su Mo saw a desolate, withered forest, from which hung numerous red ropes.

“Is this another illusion? It’s like an entire miniature world has been created… This is truly outrageous,” Su Mo muttered in disbelief, astounded that such a feat could be the work of Bai Yunbo.

There was a bed, and on its headboard sat an extinguished lamp, its wick trailing a wisp of smoke like a silken thread.

It appeared to have just burned out.

Approaching the head of the bed, she saw the girl lying there was none other than Lian Huan.

Lian Huan lay there quietly, her open eyes filled with a lingering attachment, as if she were recalling something distant.

…

Su Mo approached in silence, gently placing her hand near Lian Huan’s nose, but felt no breath.

Upon closer inspection, the body was hollow, with no signs of a spirit vying for its control.

“Was I too late?” Su Mo murmured, lowering her gaze.

She had expected to feel grief, yet upon truly witnessing the scene, no such emotion arose within her.

Instead, it felt more like seeing a friend off on their final journey, offering a silent blessing.

Knock, knock!!

The window was struck, a rigid, incessant rhythm echoing through the room.

Turning, she saw a floating imp. Aside from the bloody tears streaming from its eyes, it appeared rather normal.

Its pallid arm knocked rhythmically. Though it had no pupils, Su Mo knew it was watching her.

“An illusion? Or something else entirely?” she wondered, a flicker of hesitation in her mind.

As if sensing Su Mo’s indifference, the imp drifted away, vanishing into the withered forest beyond the window.

Hesitating whether to take Lian Huan’s body, Su Mo looked down and noticed a letter clutched between her fingertips.

“It wasn’t here just now…” Su Mo murmured, gazing intently.

She channeled spiritual energy into her eyes, clearly discerning the aura entwined around the letter.

A purple-gold aura, a symbol of nobility, emanated from it.

It seemed to have been deliberately revealed for Su Mo to see.

After a moment of hesitation, she decided to take it back and open it with Xu Qingzhu.

However, the instant she touched it, a blast of Yin wind erupted from the envelope.

Blown back and unable to open her eyes, when she finally could, her surroundings had transformed into a scene of a ghost marriage.

Yet, the guests were unsettling: headless figures, those with missing hands, one-legged specters, and others with impossibly long tongues.

A careful scan revealed ghost soldiers clad in armor within the procession, marching in a single file toward a specific direction.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Amidst the sound of hooves, a Ghost Gentleman halted, casting a spectral gaze upon her.

His features were indistinct, yet his voice rang clear:

“My lady, are you Miss Lian Huan’s mistress?”

…

Su Mo remained silent, looking left and right as if she couldn’t see them.

Shaking his head slightly, the Ghost Gentleman explained:

“Your maidservant has caught the Great General’s eye. For this wedding procession, we kindly request your presence, my lady, to bear witness.”

…

“My lady, there’s no need to pretend. This is the Underworld, and your contact with that letter is your credential. Once the ceremony is complete, you may depart at your leisure,” the Ghost Gentleman added.

After several such exchanges, Su Mo could no longer feign blindness. She finally understood: she had truly arrived in the Underworld.

This was the subterranean world, modeled after the traditional Diyu (Underworld) and created within the novel.

Ordinarily, living people, without employing special methods, were forbidden to walk in the Underworld, as it would diminish their lifespan.

But she was different; she had been invited.

Whoosh…

A troop of spectral steeds, draped in red cloth, galloped forth.

They were merely withered hides stretched over horse skeletons, made even more eerie by the festive cloth.

“My lady, please mount your horse. We won’t be bringing out a sedan chair,” the Ghost Gentleman said with a chuckle.

“Very well,” Su Mo replied, swinging onto the horse.

Clip-clop…

The spectral steeds advanced, followed by the ghost soldiers, as a vast throng of ghouls converged like a river, clamoring for good fortune.

The Ghost Gentleman handed Su Mo a basket containing cold, broken silver, instructing her to toss it to the ghouls below.

He claimed it was to ‘spread some auspiciousness’.

…

‘Auspiciousness? Su Mo wasn’t sure about that, but she suspected bad luck was more likely.’

She casually tossed out a few handfuls, and the horde of ghouls immediately pounced, scrambling to snatch them up.

Those who succeeded swallowed their loot in a single gulp, like ravenous starved ghosts, yet still remembered to offer Su Mo blessings:

“May my lady soon bear noble sons…”

“May my lady be blessed with many children and much fortune…”

Though their actions were rather comical, Su Mo’s face darkened considerably.

‘What kind of blessing was this, wishing her more children?!’

Returning the basket to the Ghost Gentleman, Su Mo refused to continue.

Fortunately, not long after, a joyous clamor of gongs and drums drifted from afar, and Su Mo caught up with the wedding procession.

Amidst the throng of ghosts, a grand red sedan chair sat in the center, carried by eight strong ghouls who swayed as they walked.

“My lady, please proceed over there,” the Ghost Gentleman said with a smile, then spurred his horse away.

With a mix of belief and doubt, Su Mo rode closer. From the side window of the grand red sedan chair, a fair, slender arm extended.

It looked somewhat familiar, like Lian Huan’s.

Before the person appeared, her voice preceded her. From inside the sedan chair, Lian Huan’s soft, sweet voice drifted out:

“Miss, I never imagined you would come looking for me.”

As she drew near, the side window of the sedan chair was pulled open, revealing the bride seated within: it was indeed Lian Huan.

Her face, though deathly pale and devoid of color, was adorned with makeup, and a golden phoenix hairpin graced her elegantly coiled hair.

Her vermillion lips were frighteningly crimson, as vivid as if she had just partaken of blood.

Her demeanor was serene and ethereal, no longer possessing the playful charm she had as a living person.

She was now a ghost bride.

“Lian Huan, you…” Su Mo began, utterly unprepared for such a reunion.

Yet, recalling the ‘Ghost Mother’ nickname, she couldn’t help but feel that all things were predetermined, and Lian Huan had, after all, walked this path.

“Miss, that fellow Bai Yunbo sold me to the Underworld,” Lian Huan explained, her voice carrying an ambiguous blend of helplessness and resignation.

“And you just accepted it?” Su Mo asked, surprised.

“Miss, I died not long ago. If this Ghost General hadn’t taken me in, I might not have been able to preserve my soul until the time of reincarnation,” Lian Huan mused with a sigh.

From that simple sentence, Su Mo gleaned another meaning:

Bai Yunbo had done something to her body, causing her soul to be on the verge of scattering, making even reincarnation a difficult prospect.

That demonic Daoist, still hoping to wring out every last drop of profit, had led Lian Huan to the Underworld, intending to sell her for a price.

The only pity was that Bai Yunbo never had the chance to touch the invitation himself; instead, by a twist of fate, it was Su Mo who ended up attending.

He probably still didn’t know that Lian Huan, with such a shattered soul, could actually catch the eye of the Ghost General and enter into marriage.

All the benefits had fallen to Su Mo, but…

“Lian Huan, if you don’t agree…”

“There’s no need, Miss. The Ghost General has treated me exceptionally well. The fact that you can see me now is due to his great efforts, barely preserving my soul. With such kindness, as a maidservant, I have truly met a benefactor,” Lian Huan declined.

It was as if she had forgotten her initial desire for freedom when she first departed.

She willingly embraced her maidservant identity once more, binding herself anew.

However, upon further reflection, Su Mo acknowledged that each era held its own philosophies. She might not understand, but she respected it.

“From now on, when we meet again, just call me Su Mo,” she told Lian Huan, then pulled on her horse’s reins, moving out of the grand red sedan chair’s vicinity.

The Underworld’s marriage customs were numerous. Su Mo was practically led around by a ghost matchmaker, who explained each ritual until all the ceremonies were finally completed.

Looking up again, the entire hall was alive with singing and dancing. Bewitching painted-skin ghosts twirled in their robes, their gazes occasionally sweeping toward Su Mo, showing great interest in her face.

‘They’re not going to want to peel off my face, are they?’ Su Mo couldn’t shake the feeling that the surrounding ghosts’ frequent stares were making her skin crawl.

Just as she was worrying, a dashing male ghost indeed stepped forward and asked with a smile:

“Fair maiden, may I inquire your esteemed name?”

…

Ignoring him, Su Mo had a strong sense that he harbored ill intentions.

The male ghost looked awkward and irritated, even feeling as though the other ghosts nearby were mocking him.

He couldn’t bear the loss of face, yet he seemed to fear something, preventing him from acting.

Seeing his apprehension, Su Mo naturally understood that his fear wasn’t directed at her, but at an unseated ghost.

The Great General!

“He’s here, don’t speak…” a ghost whispered gravely.

Following the sound, Su Mo looked up and was utterly stunned.

If one were to call him a ghost, Su Mo felt it was inaccurate. The Great General exuded a presence that was akin to a deity, yet not quite.

He wore armor, his face a blend of green and red, appearing in her vision like a guardian deity.

His aura possessed a calming, steadying quality, and behind him floated a black and gold disc, inscribed with ancient script she couldn’t decipher.

As he took a seat in the center of the grand hall, under his immense pressure, not a single ghost dared to make a sound.

‘A Incense Path cultivator? Is this Ghost General sustained by incense offerings?’ Su Mo wondered, secretly observing him with considerable surprise.

Truthfully, for a ghost to consume incense offerings without being targeted by cultivators or celestial deities, it implied a significant background.

‘What kind of origins did he have in life? To be this formidable.’

Yet, this incredibly powerful ‘person’ began his address by raising a toast, to Su Mo no less.

The numerous ghosts widened their spectral eyes, yet dutifully raised their cups, offering a toast to Su Mo.

Even she didn’t understand, haphazardly raising her cup in return.

This single gesture completely dumbfounded all the ghosts who had previously been eyeing Su Mo.

They wished they could shrink into cracks, anything to avoid being seen by Su Mo.

“What are this living person’s origins?”

All the ghosts wondered, exchanging glances and shaking their heads with sighs.