Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 538 Red Resentment Transforms into a Dream

A woman died after marriage, her soul remains bound to incense.

Deep affection never fades, but resentment turns to frost.

If you encounter a blood bride, do not call her by name.

—From *Zi Bu Yu: A Sequel to Ghost Marriages*

The crimson color exploded in the air.

The ghost bride's red wedding dress was no longer recognizable; it had transformed into a swirling cloud of blood mist, carrying a piercing wail and a sweet, metallic scent as it lunged at Si Ming.

The blood surged like a tide, and the air was compressed, producing a low rumble.

Si Ming stood in the mist, his clothes fluttering slightly, and with a gentle turn of his fingertip, the playing card drew a thin line in the air.

That was a pattern.

Before it could even unfold, the blood mist was already right before their eyes.

At that moment, a clear whistle pierced the sky.

"Go away-!"

The blood was torn apart.

A dark red figure swooped down from the sky, its blood-red wings like blades, stirring up a gust of wind.

Selene struck from mid-air, her blood claws carving out two cross-shaped cracks.

boom!
The air was torn apart, and the blood mist exploded and shattered into countless red fragments.

The fragments floated in mid-air, like thousands of red butterflies scattering.

Selene landed steadily, kicking up a cloud of dust from the soles of her boots.

She raised her head, her eyes flashing coldly, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"Vulnerable."

Her voice carried the pride unique to vampires, both disdainful and elegant.

Si Ming's brow twitched.

He looked up, his gaze passing over her shoulder, and said coldly:

"--careful!"

Almost simultaneously, the air suddenly turned cold.

The shattered blood fragments suddenly coalesced behind Selene.

Like a river flowing against the current, they converge, surge, and twist into new shapes.

"hiss--"

A tooth-grinding, grating sound.

The blood smears reassembled into a floating "blood-stained garment," with fluttering sleeves and blood dripping from the edges.

The blood-stained clothes danced without wind, like a red snake, suddenly lunging at Selene.

Selene reacted extremely quickly, her body slightly spinning, her blood wings deflecting the air currents and avoiding a direct hit.

But the blood-stained clothes, as if they were alive, wrapped around her arm, and a burning, stinging pain instantly pierced her skin.

She groaned and tried to break free, but found that the blood-stained clothes were getting tighter and tighter.

The blood seeped into her skin, burning her so much that she could almost smell her own flesh melting.

"It...is still alive?!"

She stared in horror at the blood-stained garment, the fabric trembling slightly as if it were breathing.

And the rhythm of her breathing was perfectly synchronized with her heartbeat.

Si Ming's eyes darkened.

His voice was low, like a spell or a sigh.

"The souls of the underworld are not so easy to die."

Selene gritted her teeth, clenched her blood claws, and launched a fierce counterattack.

A crimson light burst from her fingertips, transforming into a sharp blade that forcefully severed the bindings of the blood-stained garment.

"Bam—!"

The blood-stained clothes exploded, splattering countless drops of blood.

These bloodstains fell to the ground, but instead of disappearing, they seeped into the soil like ripples.

A moment later, it gradually emerged from the surrounding white mist.

bell--

A faint bell rang out from the depths of the fog.

Immediately following was the ghost bride's soft laughter.

"Hehe... Time to get in the sedan chair—"

The sound seemed both near and far, carrying an eerie joy.

The surrounding white lights trembled simultaneously, their wicks making a soft cracking sound before bursting one after another.

The light fades, and bloodshed begins.

The world was bathed in a dark red hue.

The wind stopped, and even breathing became heavy.

Selene licked the blood from the corner of her mouth and snorted coldly.

"interesting."

She spread her wings, which flashed with red light, and her blood energy condensed into a sharp, long claw.

Si Ming stood behind her, silently watching everything.

Beneath his feet, black and white checkerboard patterns began to spread, slowly covering the bluestone ground.

With a touch of the pen, the chessboard appears.

The black checkered pattern is like night, the white checkered pattern is like bone.

He whispered:

"Looks like we're in for a tough battle."

The wind swept through his sleeves, carrying the rhythm of fate.

The bell rang three more times in the distance.

From within the mist, the ghost bride's laughter echoed once more, soft and silky.

"The auspicious hour has arrived—bride...get in the sedan chair—"

Si Ming's fingers tightened, and the tip of his pen trembled slightly.

The edges of the chessboard glowed with a cold light.

He looked up, his gaze as cold as a blade.

"Then let's see who makes the first move in this game of fate."

Blood and mist surged simultaneously, their interplay forming a chessboard of heaven and earth.

Blood mist surged, and the world was swallowed up in dark red.

Si Ming lightly tapped his toes, and the chessboard beneath his feet immediately lit up with a cold light.

Black and white, like two veins of destiny, intertwine and spread throughout the ruins.

He murmured softly, as if giving a command to fate:
"Place your pieces—Bishop, Knight."

"Snapped--"

The sound was so soft it was almost inaudible, but at that moment, the air vibrated.

On the chessboard, two giant shadows rose up simultaneously.

A black knight, wielding two swords, his armor as black as night;
The bishop, dressed in white, held a holy staff, radiance emanating from his palm, and chanted holy incantations like scripture.

They are not living beings, yet they possess souls.

That was the manifestation of the will of the Fate Master's "illusory chessboard".

"Bishop, suppress!"

Si Ming changed the subject, his tone as calm as still water.

The bishop raised his hand, the tip of his staff gleaming, holy incantations spreading, and golden threads coiling in mid-air, forcefully suppressing the churning blood mist.

Blood mist boiled, and the air emitted a sharp, metallic screech.

"Knight, charge!"

The black-clad knight swung his sword, and two sword energies pierced the air, slashing straight at the ghost bride's chest.

Blood waves surged, and the wind howled.

Selene has also made her move.

Her blood-red wings unfurled, emitting two streaks of red light, and her figure transformed into a phantom, closely following the knight's slash.

Her blood claws clashed with the knight's sword, creating a violent shockwave upon impact.

boom--!
Blood burst forth.

The ghost bride was hit so hard that she screamed with her head thrown back, her body contorted, and her mask-like smile instantly shattered.

however--

The blood mist gathered again behind her.

Two regiments, four regiments, eight regiments...

The mist expanded layer by layer, and in the blink of an eye, the same number of ghost brides were born.

Each one was dressed in the same red wedding gown, covered with a red veil, their faces bare, yet they were all smiling.

Selene was suddenly startled.

"They...split up?"

Si Ming's face was gloomy.

He gritted his teeth and whispered:
“Fate is symmetrical... The number of summoned creatures matches the number of vengeful spirits.”

In other words, every time he summons a piece, it's like opening a door for the enemy.

"Damn it."

His brows furrowed, and the light on the chessboard flickered erratically.

The blood-red wedding bells rang wildly in my ears.

The newly born ghost brides marched forward in unison, their skirts trailing on the ground, softly chanting:

"Get in the sedan chair—get in the sedan chair—"

The sound was deep, long, and eerie, like thousands of threads drilling into one's eardrums, making the air tremble.

Selian let out a low shout, her blood surging.

She spread her wings, and a crimson wave surged into the sky, transforming into more than a dozen blood-red blades to meet her attack.

The blood-red blade shattered in mid-air, like a chaotic stream of fragmented light, and slashed fiercely at the group of ghost brides.

In an instant, red robes fluttered, and waves of blood surged wildly.

but--

Not one fell.

Their bodies were pierced, yet they reformed in the next instant. Blood flowed from the ground back to their feet, like a river flowing backward.

The bishop's radiance shone brightly, and holy incantations covered him.

The figure of a ghost bride twitched in the light, but then laughed and turned into a blood mist, splitting into two new shadows.

Selene cursed under her breath: "An ineffective attack?!"

Si Ming squinted, his pen moving swiftly as he calculated the flow of the chess pieces.

The chill in his heart grew deeper and deeper.

This is not a battle, this is a "ritual".

Every strike contributes to the completion of this "ghost marriage".

The ghost brides slowly approached, their smiles beneath their veils growing increasingly chilling.

Their harmony rang out again:
"Get in the sedan chair—get in the sedan chair—"

The sound was like a noose, tightening around every breath.

Selene's breathing quickened, and a red light flickered in her eyes.

She broke through the blood mist and engaged in close combat with one of the ghost brides.

Bloodclaws cut through the wind with the force of thunder.

But in that very instant, Si Ming saw it.

The ghost bride's movements were slightly uncoordinated.

The moment she extended her claws, she instinctively turned to the side, protecting a part of her waist.

In that place, there was a sachet soaked in blood, its color dark red, yet it was faintly visible in the mist.

Si Ming's eyes sharpened, his thoughts racing.

That's... your obsession.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the pain in his chest.

The black and white chess pieces crawled under his feet, and his figure disappeared in a flash along with the shadow of the chessboard.

Selene's claw missed its mark, and the ghost bride grabbed her shoulder instead.

Her blood and qi exploded, she groaned, and her arm guard shattered.

“Selene!” Si Ming’s voice exploded in her ears.

Before she could respond, Si Ming's figure appeared behind her.

The interlacing of black and white light formed a shield, blocking the ghost bride's next attack.

"cover me."

Selene gritted her teeth, spread her wings, and her blood energy surged suddenly.

With a powerful claw strike, she completely captivated the ghost bride's attention.

Just as the ghost bride opened her mouth to hiss and bared her fangs as if to bite—

Sima Ming moved.

With a flick of his pen, he landed on the red knot of the sachet.

"Break."

The red thread snapped instantly.

The sachet fell off and landed in the hands of the God of Fate.

Time seems to stand still at this moment.

The blood mist suddenly stopped.

The ghost bride let out a piercing, heart-wrenching wail.

Her body convulsed violently, and a corner of the veil covering her face was lifted.

A face as pale as wax was revealed, with only a single tear of blood sliding down from the corner of its eye.

Her form began to solidify, and the blood mist swirled back to her feet.

The God of Fate opened his palm.

The blood-red sachet lay quietly in his hand, its embroidery mottled, yet still emitting a faint fragrance.

He said in a low voice, his eyes dimming slightly:
"So this is what you've been looking for all along."

The wind stopped.

Selene stared blankly at the sachet.

And the blood-red world finally quieted down for a moment.

It was as if all the ghosts were holding their breath.

Crimson dust slowly fell from mid-air. Si Ming lowered his head; the sachet he had snatched lay quietly in his palm.

A faint light shone through the cracked embroidery thread.

"Click."

The fabric of the sachet broke off on its own, and a strand of hair was lifted up by the wind.

Two strands of hair, one black and one blue, were tied together with red ropes, trembling gently as if still retaining human warmth.

The stench of blood was replaced by a faint fragrance. The fragrance was extremely light, yet it possessed a gentle quality that could penetrate even a dream.

That's the scent of osmanthus and sandalwood, a "love token" often used by newlywed brides in previous years.

Si Ming's gaze softened slightly.

He raised his hand, and light flowed from his fingertips, revealing a line of ancient ink marks in the sachet.

He read aloud in a low voice:
"Seven looms, mandarin ducks are woven, yet hesitation remains."

I fear they might be easily cut apart, scattered to two different places, leaving behind only sorrow; how can we ever be together again?

With each recitation, ripples appeared in the air.
The ghost brides that were hovering around all stopped in their tracks.

The originally distorted blood shadow remained suspended in mid-air, like a frozen puppet.

Only the "real body"—the bride in red—remained standing in the same spot.

Her fingertips trembled.

He slowly reached out his hand, as if touching something, or perhaps begging.

For the first time, tears welled up in her empty eye sockets.

Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, but they weren't transparent.

Those were tears of blood, drop by drop, falling into the mud and melting into patterns.

Si Ming sighed softly.

His voice was low, carrying a barely perceptible pity.

"It would be better to go back."

He raised his hand and drew runes of fate stroke by stroke in the air.

The brush moves like a dragon in flight, its light flowing like a river.

The sachet's scraps of cloth scattered in the wind, turning into shimmering fragments of light.

Light fragments gathered in his palm, forming a mysterious card with flowing silver patterns.

The above handwriting appears:
Sending my love through my hair, a pouch filled with longing.

Fate System - Low-Tier Town Item

(Note: This is a talisman used by Su Tiantian, the Ghost Bride.)
Si Ming looked up at the silent ghost bride.

The voice was as steady as a referee's command:

"This marriage was not completed, this karmic entanglement was not fulfilled."

Incense serves as the catalyst, and hair as the witness.

Love ends here, resentment dissipates here.

I grant you peace, with destiny as my book.

Each word was like a hammer blow, echoing through the blood mist.

The ghost bride's lips moved slightly.

That smile was no longer ferocious, but gentle.
It felt like finally completing a belated wedding.

She slowly closed her eyes.

The folds on the red wedding dress gradually smoothed out.

Her skirt transformed into countless points of light, floating up from her feet.

A woman's soft voice drifted on the wind, as hazy as a dream:
“Ayan… I’ve been waiting for you.”

There was no resentment in that voice, only relief.

The bloodstains gradually dissipated, and the world returned to peace.

The sachet's afterglow followed the palm of the God of Destiny and coalesced into another card.

The card surface had a slightly reddish sheen, and the lettering emerged:

The Haunted Bride, the Crimson-Clad Woman of the River of Oblivion

Life-type Low-level Mystic Card
(Description: His resentment dissipated and his soul returned home, leaving behind a final smile.)
Si Ming clasped his hands together, placed the two cards on top of each other, and flicked them gently, causing them to disappear into his life lines.

Only a faint fragrance remained in the air.

Selene approached slowly, her gaze complex.

"How strange... I heard a song when it disappeared."

It's blurry, but... I want to cry.

Si Ming turned his head and looked at her.

The mist reflected on his profile, revealing a smile that was both cold and humane.

He reached out and gently patted her head.

"Cry if you want to cry, laugh if you want to laugh."

"You are a princess of the vampire clan, aren't you, Celian?"

Selene paused, pursing her lips.
After a moment, he smiled.

Her smile was tinged with tears.

The wind blew from the distant mountains, carrying away the last traces of bloodshed.

The fog dissipated.

It's getting light.

Only a patch of red remained on the ground, scattered by the wind—a remnant of the wedding dress, tinged with the glow of the morning sun.

It drifted away with the wind and landed beside the broken stone tablet.

The remaining characters on the stone tablet are still there.

——Wangchuan Village.

Resentment dissipates with fragrance, affection dissipates with silk threads. Those who return smile in their dreams; those who cannot return weep in the River of Oblivion.

—From *Zi Bu Yu: The Tale of the Vengeful Spirit*

(End of this chapter)