Supernatural and Paranormal Research Society

Chen Haoran frowned: "Stop trying to be mysterious—"

He instinctively lowered his head.

On the bluestone slab, a pair of embroidered shoes appeared out of nowhere.

The toes of the shoes point inwards, and twin lotus flowers are embroidered in red thread.

Above that was a floor-length, bright red wedding gown.

The hem of the garment moved without wind, its edges covered in dark brown mud, as if it had just been dug out of damp soil.

His breath hitched!

Looking up from the wedding dress, there was a face completely covered by a bright red veil.

Strangely, even though he couldn't see, a face would automatically appear in his mind.

Her skin was as white as paper, her lips as red as blood, and the corners of her eyes held a captivating allure.

nice.

The thought slithered into his mind like a venomous snake, instantly shattering all reason.

A strong, pungent smell, a mixture of aged incense and decaying earth, filled my nostrils.

His throat tightened, and his knees buckled slightly involuntarily.

Beneath the veil, a pale, almost transparent hand slowly rose.

The fingertips, devoid of warmth, carried an ancient rhythm as they gently touched the void.

"My lord..."

The sound didn't come from beside his ears; it came directly from inside his skull.

It was light and soft, like a wet red silk gliding across my cheek.

"The auspicious time has arrived, shall we consummate the marriage?"

Chen Haoran's pupils contracted sharply.

Reason screamed: Run! It's a ghost!

But his vocal cords seemed to be pulled by invisible threads, and he squeezed out a few words, dry and hoarse:

"……combine."

The comments section was silent for two seconds before exploding.

[Has the streamer gone mad? There's just a tattered dress in front of him, is he really going to have a wedding ceremony with thin air?]

[Is it a script? But the props look so real...]

In the footage, Chen Haoran's pupils have dilated into a murky black.

The dark red wedding dress moved without wind, the rustling sound of the fabric rubbing together like wet silk sticking to the eardrum.

"My lord..."

The sound resonated directly in his brain.

"You said you'd give me everything, right?"

Chen Haoran's Adam's apple bobbed violently.

His remaining sanity screamed: Run! It's a graveyard!

But his fingers seemed to be held by invisible threads, trembling as they reached towards the red veil.

The moment my fingertips touched the red silk—

"hiss……"

The biting cold instantly gripped my wrist.

It felt like a snake, soaked in ice water, coiling tightly around you, with pain seeping from every crevice of your bones.

He shuddered violently, a familiar ferocity and struggle flashing in his eyes, but his lips seemed sewn shut, only able to squeeze out broken, breathy sounds:

"I……"

"You don't want to?"

Her breath pressed against me from under the veil.

There was no warmth, only the cloying sweetness of aged grave soil mixed with cheap cosmetics.

The hand slowly climbed up his forearm, the nails scraping against his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Didn't you say you were going to marry me?"

The struggle in Chen Haoran's eyes shattered bit by bit.

Instead, there is an empty obsession.

He heard his own hoarse voice, as unfamiliar as that of another person:

"...Let's get married. Let's get married now."

A very soft laugh drifted on the night breeze, like a fingernail scraping against glass—sharp and unsettling.

That unseen hand gripped his fingers, pulling him along.

Chen Haoran turned around, his steps stiff, the curve of his knees bending in an indescribably eerie way.

He held the dark red phantom tightly with his arms clasped together in front of his chest, mechanically repeating:

"The wedding ceremony...the nuptial cup..."

Tens of thousands of viewers gasped in shock in front of the screen.

Holy crap... this really isn't acting?

His eyes! His pupils are gone!

[Call the police immediately! He's about to walk past! That's a grave!]

The popularity curve soared vertically, and gift effects flooded the screen, but they couldn't hide the messages "Save him!" and "Run!" that filled the screen.

Chen Haoran was completely unaware of everything.

In his world, only that splash of red remained before him.

It's a blinding red, yet... reassuringly red.

……

Qinglan Middle School, girls' dormitory.

Tong Qianxue was suddenly jolted awake.

It felt like something was tightly choking my trachea, and my cold knuckles seemed to still have a sticky feel to them.

She was breathing heavily, and threw off the thin blanket. Her bare hand pressed tightly against her chest, her heart pounding so hard it hurt her ribs.

"...I had another nightmare."

She turned on the bedside lamp, and in the cold white light, her brows furrowed into a deep frown.

Her forehead was covered in cold sweat. She habitually reached for her glasses, put them on, adjusted the frames, and looked around.

The other three beds were filled with even breathing, and everything seemed normal.

But the chilling feeling of being "watched" lingered like a maggot clinging to a bone, and did not dissipate with the dream.

She lifted the bed curtains and tiptoed to the balcony.

The summer night breeze brushed against my face, but couldn't quell the chill down my spine.

She took out her phone, intending to look up the physiological causes of "sleep paralysis," but the screen lit up first.

Zhang Xiaowen's relentless WeChat bombardment:

[Qianxue, wake up! Ah Hao's live stream has gone wrong!!]

Did you see? He really went to Yinshan Village!

The next second, a notification popped up on my phone: [The live stream of "Berserker Ahao" that you are following is experiencing an issue...]

Tong Qianxue paused slightly at the tip of her finger.

Yinshan Village?

She remembered her grandfather mentioning this place; the older generation was very secretive about it, only saying, "Yin veins gather evil spirits, the living should not approach."

She took a deep breath and clicked on the link.

The moment the camera cut in, her breathing stopped.

The phone camera lens trembled slightly as it zoomed in, passing through the gap in the half-open bluestone coffin lid.

The halo of the cool white fill light fell on the inner wall, condensing into a fine layer of damp water droplets.

Chen Haoran lay stiffly at the bottom of the coffin, his limbs rigid as if his tendons had been removed, only his neck was tilted back unnaturally.

His face was turning ashen and bluish-purple at a visible speed, spreading from his Adam's apple all the way up to his cheekbones.

But somehow, the corners of his mouth were pulled upwards by some invisible force, forming an extremely satisfied yet chilling arc.

A trickle of dark red viscous fluid seeped from between the chapped lips.

The dark red wedding dress covered him perfectly, as if it were alive.

The fabric had long since faded to a dark ochre color like old blood, yet it gleamed with a damp, eerie light under the lens.

Its trajectory is unpredictable—

The wide, flowing sleeves crossed over his shoulders, tightly constricting his neck, and the lotus scroll pattern at the cuffs was twisted and deformed due to excessive force.

His clothes clung tightly to his chest and waist, rising and falling slightly with a slow, drawn-out rhythm.

At the hem, the fabric dips deeply, clearly outlining the girl's slender shoulders, cinched waist, and even the silhouette of her long, flowing hair.

It felt as if a body without warmth was intimately, inch by inch, pressing against him, burying its head in the crook of his neck.

At the edge of the lens, water vapor is quietly condensing.

It's not fog, it's low temperature.

A fine layer of white frost formed on the screen glass, blurring the edges of the image.

Chen Haoran's chest heaved with difficulty.

Each breath felt like fighting against immense pressure.

The fabric of the wedding dress tightened and sank, forcing his already weak breaths back into his chest.

The rise and fall were too light, too slow, as faint as the last lingering sound of a leaking bellows.

There was complete silence inside and outside the coffin.

Only a very faint hissing sound came from the phone's speaker.

Like a soaked red silk, it clung to the man's skin, rubbing slowly and greedily.

The comments section is going crazy.

[A coffin! He really lay down in it!]

[He's breathing! He's still gasping for breath!]

[Is this all for the sake of the show?!]

Tong Qianxue bit her lower lip hard, her nails digging into her palm.

Reason told her she should call the police immediately, but the scene in the camera conveyed a despairing sense of "rule of law".

Just as she was about to take a screenshot and save it, the screen suddenly started flickering violently.

[Signal lost, live stream interrupted.]