Chapter 36: Ghost Marriage

2022-05-20

Life has never truly been precious—especially when it has nothing to do with you.

After some digging, I found out that the corpse on the bridal sedan wasn’t provided by Brother Wei Two and his crew. Instead, it was found by the family arranging the ghost marriage.

Brother Wei Two was here on Zhao Mingkun’s dime, doing a job. As for the details, that was way above my pay grade.

When we saw the body again, it stood upright in the middle of a makeshift shelter.

The shelter was about ten or so square meters, shaped like a rectangle. Metal posts, a roof of black canvas, and only an entrance left open on the north side. The corpse stood in the center. Rows of chairs lined both sides, and to the south sat two ornate armchairs, clearly reserved for the groom’s parents.

Metal poles stretched along the length of the shelter, each wrapped with wire to hold rows of candle holders. Red candles flickered in the wind.

Just outside, heaps of paper offerings—villas, furniture, cars—were stacked in piles. Two life-sized paper dolls, a boy and a girl, guarded either side of the entrance. The whole thing looked straight out of a horror show.

They’d set up this shelter at the foot of a mountain, twenty minutes’ walk from the county town. With no electric wires inside, only candlelight illuminated the scene, but their glow was bright enough to reveal every eerie detail.

Right now, we were squatting on a hillock, the shelter’s entrance directly in front of us.

I remembered earlier that day, watching that same corpse riding in the sedan, singing. Even now, the memory made my skin crawl.

But at last, I got a good look at the dead woman’s face. Honestly, she must’ve been a beauty in life—her features still striking, even in death.

Someone had put makeup on her, rouged cheeks and red lipstick. She looked livelier than before, almost human again.

If not for the mournful music and the creeping unease in the air, I might’ve been tempted to take a closer look.

The corpse wore a bright red traditional dress, the oversized clothes swaddling her from neck to toe. Hard to tell how she died, but a wide wooden plank braced her neck so she could stand upright.

Brother Wei Two glanced at the younger men, murmuring, “San, keep an eye on Lao Liu. Everything we took is inside the house. Don’t let him pull a fast one.”

With that, he shot a look at Zhao Mingkun.

Zhao Mingkun turned calmly, her tone even. “Whatever you’ve got, I’m not interested. You know why I’m here. As long as you help me find him, everything else is negotiable.”

The conversation made no sense to anyone not in the loop. It sounded like a riddle wrapped in fog.

But in our short time together, I’d picked up a few things. Zhao Mingkun wasn’t one of them—she was just working with Brother Wei Two’s crew. And apparently, his group wasn’t exactly tight-knit either, or he wouldn’t be telling San to watch Lao Liu.

I must’ve looked pretty lost, because Brother Wei Two grinned at me. “That kid gives us the creeps sometimes,” he said. “Still, none of this is really his fault.”

He checked his phone. There was still a while before the ghost marriage ceremony started.

He went on, “Lao Liu’s dad had the same problem. When Lao Liu was about seven or eight, his mom was cheating. His dad caught her in the act, but didn’t say much—seemed like he just pretended it never happened. Later that same night, the couple even slept in the same bed.”

“But in the middle of the night, Lao Liu sensed something was off and went to check on his parents. The light was on in their room. As he pushed open the door, he saw his dad’s hand gripping his mom’s throat, squeezing the life out of her.”

“Lao Liu just froze, too shocked to move. His mom was still alive, flailing her arms and legs. She locked eyes with Lao Liu, eyes pleading for help, but he was completely paralyzed.”

“He never told anyone, just stumbled around in a daze for days. It wasn’t until a week or so later that a neighbor sensed something was wrong and broke the silence.”

Everyone let out a sigh as Brother Wei Two finished the tale. “After that, nobody really looked after Lao Liu. He did whatever it took to survive. Eventually, he met a master who heard his story and took pity on the kid, teaching him a thing or two. There were six of us disciples in total—he’s the youngest.”

Qian Er cut in, “That kid gives me the creeps. We should kick him out before he drags us down. Last time with San, someone almost died.”

“Family is family,” Brother Wei Two shook his head.

From the shadows, Zhao Mingkun called out, “It’s half past eleven. The groom’s almost here.”

On cue, the sound of a suona horn drifted up from the dark hillside. Normally those tunes were bright and festive, but here they made my skin crawl.

Following the music with my eyes, the only thing visible was a faint lantern bobbing in the night.

“Remember what I asked you to do.” Zhao Mingkun whispered to the group.

Everyone murmured their agreement.

Zhao Mingkun glanced my way and spoke without hurry. “Stay put. Don’t go wandering off, got it?”

I had no clue what Zhao Mingkun and the crew were up to, but there was no way I planned on just sitting tight.

Still, I played along. “Alright, just give me a heads-up when you’re heading out. Whatever it is you’re doing, it sure looks exciting!”

Zhao Mingkun ruffled my hair and said nothing more.

The lantern drew closer, and finally I caught sight of the procession.

Leading the way was the same man who’d carried the dog’s head at noon—the Lead Bearer—with the pallbearers right behind him. This time, though, they weren’t carrying a wedding sedan but a massive coffin. Judging by its width, it could easily fit two bodies—a true double burial.

“Set it down!” the Lead Bearer called out, slowly lowering the lantern to the ground.

Everyone gathered at one side of the coffin, waiting in hushed anticipation.

“Parents, remove the first nails!” The Lead Bearer called out.

A man and woman in their fifties stepped forward from the crowd, took the tools that were handed over, and each pried up one of the nails at the head of the coffin.

As soon as the nails came loose, bright red blood trickled out from the black coffin boards.

“Ah!” The woman jumped, clearly terrified.

The crowd gasped. Even from our hill, we were stunned speechless by what we saw.

The horn player stopped as well; the music died in a pitiful whine. Down by the mountain, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. No one dared speak. The Lead Bearer had officiated countless ghost marriages, but even he looked shaken.

“Master, what—what’s happening?” the groom’s father asked, voice trembling.

“I… I have no idea,” the Lead Bearer stammered. “Whatever’s going on, we still need to open the coffin and see for ourselves.”

I whispered, “How long’s the groom’s son been dead?”

Brother Wei Two answered, “From what we know, it’s been a while.”

“This is insane,” Qian San muttered. “How could a dead body’s blood still be this fresh? Shouldn’t corpses stop bleeding?”

Zhao Mingkun waved everyone to silence. “There’s only one possibility. That’s not the groom’s son in the coffin. We might need to scrap tonight’s plan—wait for my word.”

While she spoke, the Lead Bearer was already prying up the coffin lid. No one cared about the proper ceremony anymore—they just wanted the thing open. A few strong men helped wrench the boards loose. In seconds, the coffin crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, revealing what lay inside.

The man’s throat had been slashed, blood still gushing out. They’d cut through his windpipe, so he couldn’t even cry for help. He must’ve endured the whole procession in silence.

If Zhao Mingkun hadn’t yanked Brother Wei Two back by the shoulder, he would’ve rushed down to the coffin in a frenzy.

“How can it be him!” I couldn’t help whispering.

Everyone stared in shock—for lying inside the coffin wasn’t anyone else, but San, who’d supposedly been watching Lao Liu.

But if he was keeping an eye on Lao Liu, how did he end up dead in the coffin?