Xiao Hua notices and takes the candy, stuffing it into Ming Qiao’s pocket. “Alright, brother Chun Sheng, we won’t bother you anymore!”

“We’re off to play, and you get ready to welcome your bride.”

With her mission for wedding candy complete, Xiao Hua pulls Ming Qiao along, happily hopping away.

“Ming Qiao, come on, let’s go see the bride. I wonder if she’s pretty.”

Xiao Hua munches on candy, clearly thrilled. Ming Qiao, legs trembling, keeps his mind working.

He catches something odd in Xiao Hua’s words. “Does Chun Sheng have other brides?”

“Uh-huh, brother Chun Sheng is bringing good luck.”

One bride isn’t enough, of course, there must be a second, a third. The village chief said all the men in the village have to carry on the family line.

They’re waiting to continue the village’s bloodline so that one day, the gods will come and take them all.

Xiao Hua counts on her fingers: “One, two, three—oh, I can’t even remember how many brides brother Chun Sheng has had.”

Unable to keep track, Xiao Hua shakes her head and gives up. She says cheerfully, “I heard brother Chun Sheng’s new bride is really pretty, too. Let’s go see her.”

“A person can only have one bride.” Ming Qiao says firmly, puffing his cheeks. 

“What Chun Sheng’s doing is wrong.” Whether for good fortune or multiple brides, it’s wrong!

“In our village, it’s right.”

Xiao Hua replies nonchalantly, “My grandparents didn’t say it’s wrong.”

The children continue walking, going off to find the bride. Meanwhile, Wu Ye rises from his seat in the front hall.

He rests a hand on the table, a smile on his handsome face. “Keep drinking, I’m just going to step out for a moment.”

He says he’s heading toward the back. A middle-aged man at the table, seeing him head in the wrong direction, calls out: “You’re going the wrong way, the latrine’s out front.”

“Is that so?”

Wu Ye chuckles. “My kid went out back earlier. I’ll find him and take him along to the latrine.”

“I saw Tie Zhu take your kid to play. You don’t need to worry. Tie Zhu will bring him back later.”

The man chews on melon seeds and reminds him: “The back’s where Chun Sheng’s wedding ceremony will be. It’s bad luck to go there.”

“Just stay here. Once Tie Zhu brings your kid back, we can all sit down and eat together. Then, you can stay at my place tonight, I’ve got a spare room for you.”

The man’s words make Wu Ye raise an eyebrow. He’s never heard of a wedding where guests aren’t allowed to observe the ceremony.

This strange village has no shortage of odd customs. Now that he knows where Chun Sheng is, Wu Ye doesn’t feel like playing along anymore.

“My kid’s frail and can’t play too long. I’ll go find him.” With that, he continues toward the back.

The man chewing on melon seeds, seeing that Wu Ye isn’t listening, slowly stands up. The path and house in the backyard are right there, within sight.

But Wu Ye can’t step into them. In the void, it seems like an invisible barrier blocks access to the courtyard.

“Younger man, I told you, you can’t get through.”

The middle-aged man watches him, still urging, “Come back, join us for the feast.”

“If I can’t get through, how did my companion and my child get inside?” Wu Ye stops, questioning the man.

The man, who has been chatting most with Wu Ye at the table, responds with patience to each of Wu Ye’s questions.

“Your child has a red cord tied and entered with Tie Zhu and Xiao Hua—they’re joy-bringers. As for your companion, well, the family of Chun Sheng needed that person to be a bride.”

Wu Ye pauses, repeating: “A bride?”

“Yes, Chun Sheng likes beautiful brides. He has a particular taste.”

Wu Ye lets out a low laugh. This dying ghost, Chun Sheng, indeed has a particular taste, he’s chosen Qing Heng this time.

“You have one incense stick’s time to bring Chun Sheng to me.”

“And my child, and my child’s mother.”

“Otherwise, I’ll make this ghost village—those alive into ghosts, and those dead into ashes, never to be reborn.”

Wu Ye smiles, raising his right hand casually. A red flame flickers in his right hand. He doesn’t want to resolve things violently.

Initially, Wu Ye only planned to take Chun Sheng to trade with grandma Meng in exchange for soup money. But now, both Chun Sheng and this village have disgusted him.

From the children’s conversations and his chats with the villagers, he already understands what kind of village this is. Many years ago, a deity once emerged from this village.

Before ascending, the deity left a bit of protection, hoping the villagers could live longer and that he might return someday to take them to cultivate immortality together.

The villagers waited and waited, but he never returned.

The endless waiting eventually turned into an obsession. Now, to keep waiting for the deity, the villagers either become bound spirits who refuse to leave, or they pass down their waiting to their descendants.

Chun Sheng’s “brides”, Tie Zhu’s long-gone mother, and other missing mothers from the village… Women here are simply tools for this village.

Those who agree to stay get to exist. Those who don’t, like Tie Zhu’s mother and the missing brides, disappear without a trace.

The red flames flicker on, gathering the gazes of all the villagers at the banquet table. They stare at Wu Ye expressionlessly, showing no fear. They’re not afraid of Wu Ye.

Wu Ye smiles, “I understand. You rely on divine protection, the ancestors’ blessings…”

But unlike proper immortals like Qing Heng, who would be suppressed by this eerie blend of divine and ghostly power… 

“I don’t follow the immortal path. I follow the demonic path.”

The wicked ghosts, who are burned the most intensely by the flames, and villagers with malicious thoughts, catch fire in an instant.

When the fire touches children and women, it flickers lightly and pulls back. One child, scared into sobbing, watches the fire flicker like it’s blinking innocently.

One small flame even rolls up a piece of candy to offer, though it burns it up immediately.

“Waaaah!” The child’s cries grow louder.

In the fiery glow, the barrier blocking Wu Ye vanishes. Wu Ye turns, crossing the path and quickly locating Ming Qiao with his spiritual sense.

Ming Qiao is in a panic. He doesn’t know what’s happening, only that there’s suddenly a fire.

“Quick, put out the fire!” Putting out fires is common sense, so Ming Qiao grabs a basin of water and starts to put out the flames.

But the small basin has too little water, so it does nothing to stop the fire. Covered in soot, little Ming Qiao is extremely panicked.

Not far from him, in a shadowy hallway, Qing Heng is chasing two ghostly figures with a sword. If he were to step outside, he’d see the fire raging there. Seeing it, he’d likely recognize its owner.

Wu Ye’s eyes darken. He lets the little soot-covered child keep extinguish the unquenchable fire and rushes into the room to find Qing Heng.

“Qing Heng, leave this to me.” Upon catching up with him, Wu Ye covers Qing Heng’s eyes with a jade-colored cloth.

“Don’t take it off.”

With Qing Heng’s vision blocked, Wu Ye murmurs softly: “I kill ghosts without mercy. I wouldn’t want to dirty your eyes.”

Qing Heng freezes for a moment. In his brief hesitation, Wu Ye quickly burns the two ghostly figures to ashes. 

Wu Ye’s fire only burns what it needs to, then extinguishes itself and returns to him in silence.

Before the flames die out, Wu Ye gazes at Qing Heng, keeping him from stepping outside. 

“Ming Qiao is still outside.” Qing Heng, his eyes covered, frowns lightly, reminding Wu Ye.

Wu Ye looks at Qing Heng with his eyes covered, his throat bobbing after a moment’s pause. “My spiritual sense is with him. He’s safe.”

Wu Ye’s voice lowers, “I won’t let him be in danger.” His fire will also protect Ming Qiao. 

Qing Heng stays silent. Perhaps because his sight is blocked, he senses a strange atmosphere. “Wu Ye, you—”

“Why didn’t you let Ming Qiao call me father?” Wu Ye interrupts, asking a sudden, unexpected question.

He meant to tell Qing Heng he’d located Chun Sheng and that the village had many issues. But the words that come out are strangely unrelated.

Qing Heng is bewildered. “W-What? What did Ming Qiao tell you?” He lifts his face slightly, his usually composed and cold demeanor showing a hint of nervousness.

Wu Ye gazes deeply at him, his voice hoarse as he repeats: “Why don’t you let him call me father? He wants to call me dad so much.”

Qing Heng: “……”

Qing Heng can clearly feel a breath near his cheek. He doesn’t feel a physical discomfort, yet he still takes two steps back.

As he steps back, Wu Ye moves forward. With each move, the narrow space seems to grow warmer. Inside the room, the adults continue their questioning.

Outside the room— Still fighting the flames, Ming Qiao, now on the verge of tears, holds a water basin, crying out loud.

“Mom! Dad!”

Between sobs, he pours more water, his baby voice nearly cracking: “Where are you?!”

He calls, but no one answers. Holding the basin, he stands before the flames, feeling utterly hopeless.

“Don’t get burn to death!”

“I’ll save you!”

Two more buckets later, he’s exhausted and dirtied, rubbing his cheeks with a tiny hand. He’s too tired to carry any more water.

The fire’s still burning, and his mom and dad are nowhere to be seen. With a heavy heart, the little boy slumps to the ground, tilting his sooty face to the sky, resigning himself: “Burn me too!”

“If my parents are burned, I don’t want to live either!”