Time seemed like a drop of water falling into an abyss of ultimate cold, frozen into eternity the instant it touched that cup of blood-colored wine.
Within the Ancestral Hall, the silence was as deathly still as a grave. Hundreds of paper effigy guests, bearing their eternally unchanging, bizarre smiles, quietly "watched" this sudden toasting ceremony. The ghostly green lantern-light intertwined with the blood-red carpet, dyeing the entire space into a grotesque, yin-yang inverted hellish tableau. The sickly-sweet stench of decay in the air seemed to find its source at this moment, wafting strand by strand from the corpse groom and the goblet he held raised high, insidiously drilling into the four's noses and eroding their sanity.
"Guests from afar, please drink this cup."
That emotionless, ice-cold voice continued to echo repeatedly through their minds like maggots gnawing at bone, every syllable transforming into an invisible shackle that firmly locked them in place. The oppressive weight of the rules became tangible at this moment, so heavy they could scarcely breathe.
"Damn it!"
Mo Fei's roar, suppressed to the extreme, exploded through the mental link like a cornered beast. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared fixedly at the corpse groom holding the goblet high. His bulging muscles pressed against the wooden stool beneath him with a creaking groan, as if they might burst apart in the next second.
"We stopped eating, and now this damned drinking! Does this hellhole ever end?! Even if I die today, I'll twist off this bastard groom's head and kick it like a ball first!" His mental fluctuations grew so intense they nearly broke free of the link's restraints, that mixture of rage and despair clearly transmitted to every teammate.
"Mo Fei! Sit down!" An Mu's voice was like ice that had not melted in ten thousand years, forcibly freezing the volcano on the verge of erupting. "Do you want to become a dish in the courtyard right now?!"
"But if we don't drink, how much better off will we be?! Those damned rules clearly state 'must be drunk'!" Mo Fei's teeth ground together with an audible clack. He glanced at the plate of "cold appetizers" made of tongues on the table, his stomach churning once more. "We've been driven to a dead end, Captain! Rather than letting these ghost things toy us to death, we might as well take them down with us!"
"Brute courage solves nothing." Lan Ce's voice was calm to the point of cruelty, speaking rapidly through the link. "Refusing to drink violates the third rule. Based on the consequences of violating the second rule, our mortality rate is one hundred percent, and the manner of death will most likely relate to 'disrespect'—for example, being forcibly fed something even more terrible. Drinking this cup has unknown consequences. But between the unknown and certain death, the choice is singular."
"Unknown?" Mo Fei acted as if he'd heard the joke of the century. "Look at what's in that cup! That's human blood! Juice squeezed from rotten flesh! Drink it, and the best outcome is being assimilated into puppets just like Xiao Zhao!"
"That's still better than directly becoming a pool of rotten flesh." Lan Ce refuted without mercy. "At least, as puppets, we would have the chance to analyze the assimilation process and provide data for subsequent operations... though the probability is minuscule."
"Enough!" An Mu interrupted the argument between the two. He slowly stood up, his tall figure casting a reassuring shadow beneath the flickering green light. He didn't look at the corpse groom; instead, his gaze calmly swept across his three teammates.
"Lan Ce is right. We have no choice. Someone must drink this cup." His voice was incomparably steady, as if he had already made a certain decision. "As captain of Team One, I will bear this risk."
"No!" Mo Fei and Lan Ce almost simultaneously sent voices of opposition through the link.
"Captain, you're our commander! If you fall, what do we do?" Mo Fei said anxiously. "If someone must go, it should be me! I've got thick skin and tough flesh—I might be able to endure it!"
"Synthesizing survival rate and intelligence acquisition rate, the captain holds the highest value. The priority for risk-bearing should place him last." Lan Ce's analysis remained cold and precise.
"This is an order." An Mu's tone brooked no objection. He was already preparing to step forward.
"Stop arguing, all of you."
A calm voice rang out softly in the three people's minds, carrying a weight sufficient to suppress all disputes.
It was Bai Yu.
From the moment the groom began his toast, he had sat in silence, like a bystander removed from the situation. His eyes were slightly closed, long eyelashes casting faint shadows across his pale face, isolating him from all the terror and clamor of the outside world.
"Oh, what a touching scene. The captain leading by example, teammates competing to die." Hei Yan's elegant and mocking voice flowed slowly through the depths of his consciousness, like savoring fine red wine. "Just like a flock of lambs driven to a dead end, competing over who gets slaughtered first to display their laughable bravery. Little Bai Yu, don't you think this is itself a splendid drama?"
Bai Yu ignored its mockery. His mind was completely immersed in analyzing the rules.
Groom, corpse, toast, must be drunk... These keywords spun, collided, and recombined at high speed in his mind. He forced himself not to think about what was actually in that cup, but rather to ponder the "rule significance" represented by the act of "toasting" itself.
"Hei Yan," he asked calmly in his mind, "why do you think it is 'offering a toast' instead of directly ordering us to drink?"
"Hmm?" Hei Yan seemed quite interested in this question. It pondered briefly, then said in a coaxing tone, "'Ordering' is a top-down posture. But 'offering a toast' is equal, or even... bottom-up. In a place that values etiquette, a host toasting a guest is a kind of 'bestowal,' and also a 'test.' It is testing whether the guests are 'qualified' to remain at this banquet."
Qualification...
It was as if lightning flashed across Bai Yu's brain.
"This cup is not poison," he said to everyone through the mental link, his voice clear and firm. "Or rather, it is not merely poison. It is more like a 'key.'"
"A key?" An Mu stopped walking and looked at him in confusion.
"Exactly." Bai Yu slowly stood up, standing shoulder to shoulder with An Mu. "From the moment we entered this village, we have been passively following the rules. Yielding the way, observing the ceremony, taking our seats... We have been playing the role of 'guests.' But we have always been outsiders. And this toast is an opportunity given to us by the host—an opportunity to change from 'outsiders' to 'insiders.' Drinking this cup is equivalent to accepting this wedding's 'contract,' acknowledging its 'reality.' Only then will we be qualified to touch the deeper core of this supernatural tale."
"You mean, if we drink this wine, not only won't we die, but we'll gain something?" Mo Fei asked incredulously.
"No, the risk of death still exists. Or rather, the risk of 'assimilation.'" Bai Yu shook his head. His gaze passed through the deathly silent courtyard to land on the pale face of the corpse groom. "This cup most likely contains this village's 'memories,' or rather, this Nightmare's 'origin.' Drinking it is equivalent to injecting these things directly into our minds. Those with insufficient willpower will be instantly overwhelmed by that massive torrent of information, thoroughly lost, turned into puppets like those villagers. But if one can endure..."
Bai Yu paused, a hint of excitement entering his voice that even he hadn't noticed.
"We will know what exactly happened in this village."
This bold deduction plunged An Mu and the other two into silence. This was undoubtedly a high-stakes gamble, wagering a teammate's mind or even life for a chance to touch the truth.
"I'll go." Bai Yu's voice rang out again, this time brooking no argument.
"No, Bai Yu!" An Mu refused flatly. "Your mental state was already unstable. The aftereffects of the last mission..."
"Captain, it is precisely because my mental state is unstable that I am the best choice." Bai Yu turned his head, calmly watching An Mu. Those eyes reflected An Mu's face, full of worry.
"You forgot—there is still a 'Nightmare' living in my body," he said softly. "When it comes to resistance against this kind of origin contamination, no one is stronger than I. My soul is already a porcelain vessel covered in cracks. One more crack or one less makes little difference to me. But you are different. You are whole. Once contaminated, you can never return."
His words were spoken as lightly as passing clouds and gentle wind, yet they stabbed into An Mu and Mo Fei's hearts like a sharp knife. They knew Bai Yu was referring to that cruel truth bought with his life one year ago.
"Moreover," the corner of Bai Yu's mouth curved in a self-mocking arc, "I'm quite curious—between this 'wine' fermented from bones and flesh, and the 'artist' residing within my body, which one will prove superior."
An Mu looked at him, at those terrifyingly calm eyes, and knew he could refuse no longer. Bai Yu's reasoning was flawless.
He wasn't playing the hero, but rather using the most rational method to choose the plan with the highest success rate, with the price being the "cheapest" option for himself.
In the end, An Mu slowly nodded, squeezing words out from between his teeth: "...Be careful."
Bai Yu said nothing more, only inclining his head slightly toward him. Then he turned around, alone, facing those hundreds of cold gazes, facing the silent invitation of that corpse groom, walking step by step toward the main hall of the Ancestral Hall.
Every step was like treading on the drumbeat of fate. The blood-red carpet stretched beneath his feet like a red carpet leading to hell. The surrounding paper effigies seemed to have smiles that grew more vivid and expectant as he passed by.
He walked before the host's table.
Seen up close, the corpse groom appeared even more bizarre. Though the black ceremonial robe on his body was magnificent, it carried a faint scent of earth and coffin wood. His handsome yet pale face, beneath the ghostly green light, possessed a jade-like texture, yet was so cold that not a trace of life could be felt.
Bai Yu's gaze fell upon the cup in his hand.
The instant he came to a stop, that rigid arm holding the goblet extended steadily toward him. And the moment the goblet left the groom's palm, it vanished into thin air; the next second, it abruptly appeared before Bai Yu, hovering silently in midair.
Bai Yu extended both hands and received the goblet respectfully.
The cup was icy to the touch, heavy in texture, neither metal nor jade. The liquid within displayed an almost coagulated dark red, viscous as blood left sitting for several days. A sweet, fishy scent mixed with rust, earth, and some unknown floral fragrance assaulted his senses.
Bai Yu looked at his own pale face reflected in the cup. Without the slightest hesitation, he raised the goblet to his lips, tilted his head back slightly, and drank the viscous liquid in one gulp.
"Boom—"
The instant the wine entered his throat, there was none of the expected spiciness or fetid stench. Instead, there was an extreme cold, as if he had swallowed a piece of profound ice from the depths of the underworld, instantly freezing his esophagus, his stomach, his blood, and even his soul.
Immediately after, an indescribable torrent of information, mixed with countless fragmented images, shrill screams, despairing sobs, and frenzied prayers, crashed into his mind with a thunderous roar!
Bai Yu's body convulsed violently, his eyes instantly losing focus as his pupils were devoured by an unfathomable darkness.
His consciousness was forcibly stripped from his own body, falling into a surging, never-ending long river of time constructed from blood and tears.
He "saw."
He saw a village with clear mountains and beautiful waters, chimney smoke curling upward, the sounds of chickens and dogs within earshot. A young man in blue cloth garments with handsome features stood beneath an ancient tree at the village entrance, clumsily weaving a rabbit from willow branches, his face bearing a shy yet happy smile. Opposite him, a young girl in a floral cloth skirt rested her chin in her hands, watching him with a smile. The girl's face was obscured by a soft halo and indistinct, but those star-bright eyes were filled with love and tenderness.
The scene shifted.
A terrible plague suddenly erupted in the village. One villager after another collapsed, strange black spots appearing on their skin, dying in agonized wails. The once peaceful and serene village became a human hell filled with cries of suffering. That handsome youth knelt before the sickbed, gripping the girl's cold hand tightly. Black spots had appeared on the girl's face as well, her breath faint, but the look in her eyes as she gazed at the youth was still filled with reluctance to part.
The scene shattered once more.
In the Ancestral Hall, a group of "mysterious people" wearing wooden masks and black robes were conducting some bizarre ritual around an ancient altar. They chanted ancient, tongue-twisting incantations, their voices hoarse as night owls. Lying at the center of the altar was that now-dead girl. And kneeling below the altar was that youth with red-rimmed eyes and an expression of devastating grief.
"As long as... as long as we hold a 'Ghost Wedding'... let her marry the Mountain God... we can appease the Mountain God's anger... the village will be saved..." an elder wearing a ghost mask said to the youth in a hoarse voice.
"No... she's mine... no one can take her from me!" the youth roared madly.
"This is for the village! You have no say!"
The scene abruptly switched.
A bizarre wedding was taking place. The Ancestral Hall was hung with red silk, yet white candles were lit. The youth wore a brilliant red groom's uniform, but his eyes were hollow as death. He watched his beloved girl, dressed in wedding garments, being sent as a sacrifice into the pitch-black cave in the mountain behind the Ancestral Hall.
The moment the girl was sent into the cave, the plague throughout the entire village miraculously vanished.
The villagers erupted in cheers of survival. They knelt on the ground, kowtowing frantically toward the cave in the rear mountain, praising the "Mountain God's" benevolence, celebrating this "new life" bought with a young girl's life.
No one paid any attention to the tear-streaked groom kneeling at the cave entrance.
The final scene.
Late at night, that youth with a dead heart, wearing that red ceremonial attire he had never removed, walked alone into the Ancestral Hall. He looked at the "Mountain God" statue enshrined in the hall, its face blurred and indistinct, his eyes filled with endless hatred and madness.
"You stole my light... then I will make this village... sink forever in darkness..."
He took out a dagger, not thrusting it at the god statue, but stabbing it viciously into his own heart.
He collapsed onto the cold ground, fresh blood staining his wedding garments, yet the corner of his mouth held a bizarre and satisfied smile. Using his own death and deepest resentment, he delivered the most malevolent curse upon this village he once deeply loved but now hated with all his being.
He... was the groom.
...
"Pfft—"
Bai Yu suddenly spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, the color dark and carrying an ominous black aura. He fell to one knee, using his hand to brace himself fiercely against the ground, gasping for breath in great gulps like a fish thrown onto shore. That massive flood of memories receded like tidewater, leaving behind bone-deep cold and soul-tearing agony.
"Bai Yu!"
Seeing this, the other three could no longer concern themselves with other matters. They lunged up and rushed over, protecting him in their center while warily staring at that still-seated corpse groom.
However, the groom seemed to have completed his mission the moment Bai Yu drank the wine. His raised arm slowly lowered, his rigid head gradually drooping, returning once more to that "sleeping" posture. The hundreds of paper effigy guests also uniformly withdrew their gazes, reverting to lifeless objects.
The immediate crisis before them seemed to have been resolved once again.
"I'm fine..." Bai Yu raised his head, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. His face was as pale as a sheet of paper, but his eyes were shockingly bright. "I... know what... happened in this village."
He looked at the corpse groom with lowered head, then glanced at the giant portrait in the main hall of the Ancestral Hall, covered by a red veil, speaking in a hoarse voice.
"This wedding was never for joy from the very beginning. This is... a revenge... constructed jointly by the entire village's despair and the groom's resentment."