Shadows loomed everywhere, slinking furtively.

Zhong Cheng’s breath hitched instantly. A chill crept up his scalp; his mind went blank for a heartbeat.

Thoroughly spooked.

WTF!

Who were these? What were they doing? Why surround *him*?

Popping up like this out of nowhere—didn’t they know it was terrifying?

Thieves? A squad grinding together? Have thieves gotten this brazen?

Wait—these weren’t human at all. Twisted bodies, wild hair, oversized heads on tiny frames, even beaks like birds.

All eyes locked onto Zhong Cheng. Cold, eerie glows piercing the darkness, unmistakable even in pitch black.

Shadowy figures crowding the bedside, those unnerving stares—it was enough to make your skin crawl.

Sensing his glance, they grinned wide, as if greeting him.

But zero warmth in it. To Zhong Cheng, pure intimidation.

Scared.jpg

Eyes only half-open, room dim—he couldn’t make out their faces.

Honestly? He was almost glad. If he *did* see them clearly… way worse.

Might even get silenced.

This was a dream. *Just a dream!*

No way something this horrifying happens in real life.

Zhong Cheng shut his eyes tight. Ignorance is bliss.

[“Greetings, groom. First meeting—hope we didn’t startle you… Hehehe.”]

A hoarse, grating whisper slithered into his ear.

Sinister chill beneath the faux concern. Sounded utterly gleeful.

Deliberately scary. Zero apology.

*Whatever. Dream. Don’t dwell. Press spacebar.*

[“The Ghost Emperor knows you’ve returned to the village. Sent us specially to escort you.”]

[“If the groom has no objections… come meet the Ghost Emperor now.”]

Objections? He couldn’t even speak. Utterly helpless.

Dream or not, freakishly vivid. Serious effort went into this render.

Then—his body lifted from the bed.

*Click.*

Door opened.

Carried out, down the corridor, into the courtyard.

Past the main gate. Outside waited an ornate wedding palanquin.

Covered in red double-happiness paper cuts, vibrant and exquisite.

Four hazy shadow-figures stood ready to carry it.

The curtain drew back on its own—as if guided by an invisible hand—beckoning the groom inside.

Zhong Cheng, powerless as a drugged victim, couldn’t even whisper *yamete*. Just followed the script.

Placed inside, posture adjusted perfectly upright.

[“Lift the palanquin! To the Ghost Emperor—no delays!”]

It rose, gliding smoothly. Not a single bump. Eerily steady—like flying.

(He’d never flown, but this *had* to be it.)

Paralysis held. Thankfully, the smooth ride kept him seated.

Gravity pulled his head down.

Sheltered inside, spared the horrors outside, his mind wandered.

*Sitting in a palanquin… feeling like the bride?*

Wrong. He was the *groom*. Should be riding a tall steed to fetch her.

Why was *he* in the palanquin? Nonsense.

And… meeting the Ghost Emperor? His “spirit-marriage” bride.

Zhong Cheng didn’t believe in her. Pure feudal superstition.

Still… a flicker of curiosity. *If it’s a dream… maybe I’ll actually see her.*

Infamous. Ruthless. What happens after meeting?

But his biggest worry: her face.

A ghost. The Ghost Emperor. Had to be terrifying—fangs, wild hair, savage glare.

What if she had a botched-cosmetic-surgery face? Green skin, bloodied, beast-like, obsessed with S&M games?

Zhong Cheng’s newbie soul trembled.

*“Can’t handle it… overwhelmed… too much!”*

Even knowing it’s a dream, dread lingered. Vivid nightmares haunt you awake.

*“Yep. Heading straight for the Ancient Shrine.”*

Zhong Cheng strained to peek through the gauze curtain. Recognized the path.

Thin fabric, nearly transparent. Night was dark—only his sharp eyes caught it.

Shadows swarmed the palanquin, gawking like he was a national treasure. Pressed against the window, leering with drooling grins—like humans eyeing forbidden meat.

Some close enough to see: failed-surgery horrors. Green faces, fangs, pale skin, scaly patches, blood, beast features.

Zhong Cheng’s blood ran cold. Heart hammered—*first-love-level* panic.

He looked away fast. Too scary.

[“Scram! Don’t frighten the groom!”]

[“Groom, you alright?”]

A figure with a relatively normal face—but a comically large head (clearly raised on Four Deer milk)—leaned close.

The escort lead. Had been talking since the bedroom.

Zhong Cheng silently dubbed him *Big-Headed Ghost*.

Forced smile. Pale face. Wide, unfocused eyes. Mouthful of sharp fangs. Not remotely friendly.

Zhong Cheng tried to answer—but his mouth wouldn’t move.

[“Good. Almost there. The Ghost Emperor will be delighted… Hehehe.”]

Muttered to itself, voice dripping with sinister glee.

Zhong Cheng swallowed hard. *If the minions are this scary… the Ghost Emperor must be terrifying to command them.*

Dream or not—flawless realism. *Full marks to the VFX team!*

[“Arrived. Step out.”]

Curtain parted. Invisible force lifted him upright, floating him out.

Before him: the Ancient Shrine’s main gate.

Seemed taller, grander than daytime’s crumbling ruin.

*Trick of the dark?* He dismissed it.

Controlled, he drifted after Big-Headed Ghost into the entrance.

He knew this shrine. Spacious, but not *this* vast.

Felt like stepping onto the wrong film set.

Soaring hall. Seamless walls. Lifelike statues. Gold-like ornaments.

Lamps glowed dimly—just enough to see.

*This is the Ancient Shrine?*

Different dimension. Scale alone was massive. Gilded. Palace-like.

*Did they hollow the mountain to build this?*

Following Big-Headed Ghost, surrounded by specters, deeper he went. Astonishment piled on astonishment.

Finally—a colossal hall. Twenty meters high, thirty wide, fifty long.

Carved pillars lined the path. Green-flamed bonfires every ten steps, casting a sickly glow.

Crowded with grotesque spirits: fanged, pale, bloodied, beast-faced.

Straight out of the underworld.

Zhong Cheng almost admired his dream-imagination. *Artist potential unlocked.*

At the hall’s end, Big-Headed Ghost halted. Zhong Cheng stopped.

Straining his eyes, he glimpsed a figure seated on the dais—only the lower half visible.

Ancient robes. Lavish. Crimson cloak draped behind.

Female. Wide hips, narrow waist. Crossed legs elegant, thigh curve graceful.

He pushed harder to see her face—but vision maxed out. Only her chin.

A beauty mark beside her lips. Matched the portrait.

*This is the Ghost Emperor.*

He’d known all along.