​​Chapter 117: Ghost Amusement Park"

​The old maid soon returned with the altered phoenix crown.

Li Zhi placed the crown back on the bride’s head. The beaded curtain in front of her forehead swayed down, obscuring her rotting, pallid face. Li Zhi then draped the red veil over her, completely concealing the head. Chi Yi, who no longer had to hold the corpse’s head, finally exhaled in relief.

The old maid turned to Qi Yongyi standing by the door. “Young Master, it’s time for you to carry the young mistress to the bridal sedan.” Her voice was low and rigid, part reminder, part warning, as she glared at him with a chilling gaze. “The bride’s feet must not touch the ground before she boards the sedan. If they do, she will refuse to leave.”

Qi Yongyi shuddered.

There was no escaping it—his turn had come.

Chi Yi shot him a look of shared suffering, as if to say, Good luck, you’re on your own now.

Qi Yongyi took a deep breath, his steps heavy as he approached the bride. He crouched down slowly. “Little sister,” he said, stiffly maintaining his character, “your brother will escort you to your wedding.”

The three of them worked together to lift the bride onto Qi Yongyi’s back.

Her stiff, lifeless arms dangled over his shoulders. The old maid brought a red silk ribbon and tied the bride’s hands together in front to prevent her from slipping off mid-journey.

Qi Yongyi felt the weight of the corpse pressing down on him.

The steel frame attached to the body hadn’t been removed, adding what must have been dozens of pounds to the load. Fortunately, Qi Yongyi had trained for this—had someone else taken the “elder brother” role, they might not have been able to carry her at all.

The bride’s veiled head rested against his left shoulder. Chi Yi thought she could finally relax, but the old maid barked at her to go over and support the head.

Chi Yi: “……”

Fine. Today, I am the Head-Holding Master.

The wide red wedding dress draped down, revealing the bride’s feet clad only in white silk socks. Without waiting for the old maid’s order, Li Zhi walked to the bed and picked up the brand-new red embroidered shoes.

As Qi Yongyi stood there with the “bride” on his back, Li Zhi crouched and slipped the shoes onto her feet.

“The bride departs her chamber; the spirit begins her journey.”

The old maid’s shrill voice rang out. Li Zhi watched as she picked up a spirit tablet from the wedding bed and handed it to her. “Madam,” she said, “it’s time to send the young mistress off.”

The bright red tablet was inscribed in black and gold with the deceased’s birth and death dates, as well as her name. A large red flower hung from the top. The bride’s name was Pan Qiping—only nineteen years old.

Li Zhi took the tablet and held it in front of her as she walked at the head of the procession. Qi Yongyi, carrying Pan Qiping, followed behind.

As they stepped out of the bridal chamber, they found a wedding procession had gathered in the courtyard. Among them was their teammate, Han Wenlin.

Han Wenlin’s eyes lit up when he saw his teammates. His assigned role was that of a servant in the Pan household. He’d woken up being jostled by other servants into the courtyard. After eavesdropping on their conversations, he’d pieced together the situation.

The young mistress of the Pan family had passed away, and her mother had arranged a ghost marriage for her. Today was the day she would be “wedded” off.

Compared to his teammates, Han Wenlin’s role seemed the safest—a fact that filled him with smug relief.

At least I’m not the one carrying a ghost bride.

Their eyes met briefly, but there was no time for further communication.

The procession moved forward, the wedding band playing behind them. The sound of gongs and suonas echoed eerily under the overcast sky.

The Pan estate was vast, and the path from the bridal chamber to the main gate was long. As Qi Yongyi walked, the corpse on his back began sliding down slowly. The arms tied around his neck tightened, making it hard to breathe.

He didn’t dare adjust too vigorously, afraid the movement might dislodge the head resting on his shoulder.

He could only shift his arms slightly, trying to keep the corpse steady. But no matter how he adjusted, the grip around his neck only seemed to tighten further.

How could a corpse exert force?

A wave of terror crashed over him.

“Butterfly,” he gasped out, “pull her hands down a bit… I can’t breathe.”

Chi Yi hurriedly tugged at the arms looped around Qi Yongyi’s neck.

They were stiff, as if welded in place. She had to use considerable force to loosen them slightly.

Qi Yongyi’s face was flushed as he gulped in air, quickening his pace.

Beside his ear, the phoenix crown’s beaded curtain swayed with each step, its delicate clinking filling the silence.

Tink—

Tink—

Heh—

Qi Yongyi flinched. “Did you hear that?” he whispered to Chi Yi. “Like… someone laughing coldly?”

Chi Yi shook her head. “No?”

The hairs on Qi Yongyi’s neck stood on end.

But he couldn’t just drop the corpse. He gritted his teeth and pressed forward.

As they stepped through the Pan estate’s main gate, the groom’s procession arrived.

Ou Wendong sat atop a tall horse, spotting Li Zhi the moment she emerged from the estate.

Ahhh! Finally, the boss is here! I’m saved!!!

His excitement was short-lived, though. The reality of their opposing roles quickly doused his enthusiasm.

He was the groom. The person holding the bride’s spirit tablet had to be a blood relative of the bride. Li Zhi was part of the Pan family. Their roles were opposed—would she really help him?

Ou Wendong swayed slightly in the saddle. A servant beside him reminded him, “Young Master Groom, it’s time to dismount.”

As he climbed down, he saw the reliable Qi Yongyi carrying the bride out, Chi Yi at his side. The sight nearly made him collapse off the horse.

Why is fate so cruel to me?!

All six teammates had finally gathered, but their differing roles left no room for conversation.

You Jingmeng, playing the ghost matchmaker, also served as the wedding officiant. When she’d woken up, she’d found a list of ghost marriage rituals—her assigned tasks.

Now, she stepped forward, pitching her voice higher. “The auspicious hour has arrived! The bride shall now board the sedan!”

A red bridal sedan waited outside the Pan estate’s gates.

But this was no ordinary sedan.

It was long and narrow, more like an upright coffin. White flowers hung from its four corners, as if a funeral had been disguised as a wedding—macabre and unsettling.

The players stared at the crimson coffin-sedan, their scalps prickling.

Qi Yongyi numbly carried Pan Qiping to the sedan. You Jingmeng lifted the curtain, revealing the cramped interior lined with yellow talismans.

The bearers tilted the coffin-sedan forward. Qi Yongyi turned his back to it, crouching to lower the bride inside.

Thud—

The bride slumped against the narrow wall, her phoenix crown knocking lightly against the wood.

Qi Yongyi’s back was drenched in cold sweat. As he stepped away, Chi Yi moved to follow, but the old maid suddenly seized her wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Her gaze was so icy that Chi Yi trembled. “I-I wasn’t going anywhere! I’ll walk beside the sedan, to see the young mistress off.”

The old maid studied her, then smiled faintly. “The procession has its own attendants. You belong inside, with the young mistress.”

Chi Yi froze. “Inside?!”

The old maid’s smile faded, suspicion creeping into her tone. “You’re the young mistress’s personal maid. You should be by her side at all times. Are you unfamiliar with the customs?”

Chi Yi’s mind screamed in protest, but she nodded like a chick pecking at grain. “Familiar! Very familiar! I’ll go in right now!”

She turned and scrambled into the slender coffin-sedan.

The space inside was barely enough for two. Once Chi Yi had settled beside Pan Qiping, the old maid gave a satisfied nod and lowered the curtain.

Though it was daytime, the interior was dim. Chi Yi pressed herself against the opposite wall, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the corpse in wedding attire.

The small windows on either side were sealed with red wooden panels. She couldn’t even stick her head out for air.

Clutching her trembling self, she endured the terror in silence.

Outside, the groom, accompanied by the ghost matchmaker, approached with a face like a funeral.

Li Zhi smiled warmly and handed him the spirit tablet. “Today, I entrust Pingping to you.”

Ou Wendong looked like he wanted to cry. His shaking hands were reluctant to accept the tablet.

The old maid’s voice turned frosty. “What is the meaning of this, Young Master Groom? Could it be you’ve changed your mind at the last moment?”

Her presence was as intimidating as the villainous nannies from period dramas—the kind who tormented heroines with needles.

Ou Wendong hastily grabbed the tablet, forcing a laugh. “No, no! Of course not! I couldn’t be happier!”

The old maid’s expression remained stern, her disapproval of the groom palpable. That their young mistress had to marry such a man was a disgrace. But in these times, finding someone with enough courage was rare—they had no other choice.

With the servants’ help, Ou Wendong remounted his horse. The bearers lifted the coffin-sedan.

The suonas blared. The groom had claimed his ghostly bride.

The procession set off again, the bride’s family following behind, scattering red paper money along the way as they headed toward the residence the Pan matriarch had purchased for the newlyweds.

The old maid turned to Li Zhi and Qi Yongyi. “Madam, Young Master, we should depart as well.”

The groom was a drifter with no living parents. Since this was a matrilocal marriage, the Pan family’s presence was required for the wedding ceremony.

Li Zhi nodded calmly. A carriage rolled up behind them. Qi Yongyi, ever the filial son, helped her inside.

Once the carriage began moving, Li Zhi lifted the curtain slightly. The old maid hadn’t boarded—status dictated she ride in a separate carriage with the other servants.

Finally able to relax, Qi Yongyi slumped into his seat. “That was terrifying.”

Li Zhi rested her chin on her hand, thoughtful. “When you were carrying her, did you notice anything unusual?”

Qi Yongyi recalled the cold laughter, his nape prickling. “I don’t think Pingping liked her brother very much.”

If she had, she wouldn’t have laughed at him like that.

Li Zhi said, “Did you see the hatred in her eyes when she looked at us in the mirror? We’re her closest family. We arranged her ghost marriage after her death. By all rights, she shouldn’t resent us.”

Qi Yongyi understood her implication. “You think… her death wasn’t natural? That her mother and brother had something to do with it?”