The Phantom Wedding

The villa district was a picturesque slice of greenery, not far from the renowned local resort. The area was lush with verdant foliage, nestled against the mountains and beside a serene body of water. Even the security guards stationed at the entrance wore striking red European-style uniforms with tall, cylindrical hats that resembled toilets. They stood as stiff as the Queen's Guard, though they looked more like the mascot dolls from a local festival.

Pei Jiang's family residence was a standalone villa—three stories tall, nearly a thousand square meters, and worth at least five million. As I stepped out of the car, the front gate was already lined with an array of flower wreaths. The courtyard was even more crowded with them, but oddly, there were no people in sight. Only a frail old man sat hunched at the entrance, his eyes glinting with a shrewdness that made me uneasy.

"Ah, this is Master Wang from Longhu Mountain," Pei Jiang introduced him with a nod in my direction. The old man regarded me with a steely gaze before turning and shuffling into the villa.

It seemed like an expected attitude from someone of his reputation. Given the hefty sum of fifty thousand dollars, I decided to overlook his haughty demeanor. The villa's interior was somber, decked out predominantly in white—the draped curtains and decorations transformed what should have been a luxurious abode into a setting more befitting a ghost story. I tried to muster a mournful expression; if I could manage to squeeze out a few tears, it would certainly add to the effect, but alas, no tears came.

Pei Jiang led me into the villa, where the grand hall was centered around an imposing coffin. Behind it stood an altar with a black-and-white photo of Emily, framed in a somber black frame. The photo was quite large—about fifty centimeters on each side—and showed her smiling as though welcoming me.

A chill ran down my spine as I felt an icy draft rising from my back. The sensation of being watched was overwhelming, making me fidget uncomfortably. I glanced up, and to my horror, I noticed that Emily's eyes seemed to follow me, their angle shifting as I moved. I quickly turned away, only to find the same unsettling gaze awaiting me.

I dared not look at Emily's photo any longer and shifted my gaze to the altar. Two thick white candles stood, their flames flickering sporadically. Melted wax had pooled around them, and beside the candles were offerings of fruits and pastries wrapped in paper. On either side of the altar were paper effigies of a boy and a girl, both with painted red cheeks and eerie, sinister smiles, as if also watching me.

As dusk settled, the villa area grew eerily quiet. I was hesitant to look around, fearful of disturbing any unseen spirits. I stayed close to Pei Jiang, who was busy on his phone with the wedding company. "Yes, the wedding company? You need to hurry up. Everything's ready on my end; we're just waiting for you. What? No horses, just a mule? Fine, that'll have to do..."

I was puzzled by this and didn't dare to ask. After Pei Jiang ended the call, he turned to me. "I've hired a wedding company for this. Just give me your birthdate, and go change into the outfit inside. We'll follow the customary rites."

Curious, I asked, "Why do you need my birthdate?"

"In traditional marriages, including ghost weddings, a birthdate is essential. We'll keep things simple, but the birthdate is a must. We'll find a paper effigy to burn with my daughter's remains, and that will conclude the ritual."

Fifty thousand dollars was no small amount, and the thought of giving it up was painful. Besides, even if the paper effigy had my birthdate, it wouldn't harm me too much. If anything, I could always spend a bit more to have it resolved later. I gave Pei Jiang my birthdate, and he directed me to a room on the right side of the villa, where my wedding attire awaited. I quickly changed, finding the outfit to be an elaborate traditional gown—red and ornate, complete with boots and a hat.

After changing, I admired my reflection in the mirror, feeling somewhat dashing. I snapped a couple of selfies, but before I could even think of posting them, Pei Jiang's voice called out urgently, "Xu Lang, are you ready? The guests are all here; we're just waiting on you."

The sooner this bizarre event ended, the sooner I could get a good night's sleep. I hurried out to see a somber procession waiting outside. A group of people dressed in traditional attire carried a large sedan chair, and a mule stood nearby, decked out in red decorations. Pei Jiang placed his daughter's photo carefully inside the sedan chair.

Master Wang had mysteriously appeared by my side, startling me. His ghostly presence was unnerving as he instructed, "Mount the mule, groom!"

I had envisioned my wedding as a romantic and heartwarming affair, but reality was far from my dreams. Instead, I was faced with this macabre spectacle. With a sense of grim determination, I mounted the mule, feeling its sluggish gait. The procession included various items—some real, like silk ribbons and food, and others were paper effigies representing clothes, jewelry, and even a mock TV and car.

The wedding company's boss, a rotund man in his thirties, struggled with the mule, which was clearly uncooperative. Sweat poured from his face as he tried to keep the procession moving. I, on the other hand, took this opportunity to chat with him, finding some small comfort in the conversation. He explained how Pei Jiang had made many demands, and though the pay was good, the task was quite taxing.

As we wound our way back to the villa, I felt a creeping anxiety. Once we arrived, the scene had transformed dramatically. The once-mournful ambiance was now brightly adorned with red lanterns and festive decorations.

I dismounted from the mule, and the wedding company members dispersed. Pei Jiang carried his daughter's photo back to the altar, where a person in traditional red attire was already kneeling, covered with a large red veil. My heart skipped a beat—was Pei Jiang planning to resurrect Emily for the ceremony?

As it turned out, the final step of the ritual involved bowing before her body. Despite the macabre nature of the ceremony, I steeled myself and followed the steps. I performed the rites, bowing before the deceased, while silently muttering, "Not real, not real..." in a bid to keep my fears at bay.

Just as I straightened up from the final bow, a sharp pain struck the back of my head, and everything went dark.