Chapter 8

Besides, the other party hadn’t caused her any harm yet. There was no need to spend money resolving this. A bit more communication might clarify why the other person was sticking around her. They could negotiate properly, and perhaps the spirit would leave on her own.

But reality dashed Yun Chun’s hopes once again.

A few days passed without her dreaming of the other party again, and there were no strange occurrences at home. Just as she clung to that one-in-ten-thousand chance, thinking the spirit had left without any discussion, she received a call from an aunt back in her hometown.

The contents of the call made Yun Chun understand the anomalies of the past few months, why the other party had latched onto her, and most importantly… that the connection between them wouldn’t be easily severed.

Unbeknownst to her, an invisible thread had formed between them, binding them together.

This aunt had been close to her mother when she was alive. She’d helped out a great deal with her mother’s funeral.

Yun Chun was truly grateful to her.

She’d barely picked up the phone and asked what the aunt needed before the woman’s anxious voice rushed into her ear like a high-speed train barreling past.

The words hit like a bolt of thunder from a clear sky, the shock lingering long after.

“Little Yun! That’s no joke—they arranged a ghost marriage for you!”

The last two words were so outrageous that it took Yun Chun a moment to process them.

She stared blankly. “A ghost marriage?”

Yun Chun had never imagined that such a feudal relic could one day be pinned on her.

The aunt gritted her teeth. “Yes! A ghost marriage!”

She explained that it had been arranged months ago, but she’d only learned today that Yun Chun was the other party. The family handling it hadn’t made a fuss—no announcements, no fanfare. They’d simply held a quiet ceremony at home.

She’d even discussed it with others recently. To her utter shock, she’d heard from them today that Yun Chun was the one tied to it.

Her first reaction was disbelief. Yun Chun hadn’t been back to the village in ages, and given her personality, how could she possibly agree to a ghost marriage? But within two seconds, it clicked.

After chatting with a few more people, the truth aligned with her suspicions. It was Yun Chun’s deadbeat father who’d secretly sold her birth chart to them. Once they had it, they didn’t care where she was—they forged the pact, held the ceremony, and that was that. Married.

Poor Yun Chun, still very much alive, probably hadn’t even had a proper romance, and now she was inexplicably wed to a ghost.

What bad luck!

How was Yun Chun supposed to date anyone now? Even if she didn’t, people would point and whisper behind her back, saying she’d been through a ghost marriage…

The aunt could only hope for the best: Yun Chun didn’t live in the village anymore, so maybe that severed the ties. Otherwise, under the weight of village gossip, who knew how she’d manage.

With a father like that, Yun Chun had truly drawn the short straw.

As the aunt cursed him out over the phone while trying to console herself, Yun Chun gripped her phone tighter. Feigning calm, she said, “Aunt Ping, thank you for telling me. I need to call him now. I’ll hang up first.”

The aunt agreed, offered a few more words of comfort, and ended the call.

Three seconds later, Yun Chun pulled Lü Feng—the man she’d already cut ties with—out of her blacklist.

She stared at the number for several moments before blacklisting him again.

She just didn’t want to make that call.

Didn’t want to hear his voice.

The thought alone made her nauseous!

Her stomach churned, her breathing grew labored. She sank into a chair, fuming inwardly.

No decent person would do something like this!

And to think she’d once called him Dad!

A ghost marriage?!

Such outdated superstitions… no, such rotten customs—why did they still exist?

Yun Chun sat there, her hand limply propped on the desk, her chest heaving with rage.

After a dozen seconds or so, her emotions finally settled.

What had happened was done. Anger wouldn’t change it.

Now, she needed to figure out how to resolve it.

Aunt Ping had said the ghost marriage partner died two years ago. She’d been so furious at Lü Feng that she’d forgotten to ask which family.

At least she needed to find that out first.

Opening WeChat, Yun Chun messaged Aunt Ping.

The reply came quickly:

【It’s Lu Yusheng from the Lu Family in the neighboring village. They struck it rich a few years back and moved to the city, but after their daughter died, they said something about returning roots to the soil. They buried her in the village and moved back themselves.】

Yun Chun’s eyelashes fluttered.

Lu Yusheng… Lu Family…

She shot to her feet.

Her heart pounded uncontrollably. It couldn’t be… her, could it?

The next second, Aunt Ping confirmed it.

【Their daughter is Lu Qingxue. Do you know her?】

Lu Qingxue…

It really was her.

Yun Chun’s throat tightened, a sigh escaping her.

Lu Qingxue… how had she died?

【But it’s strange, isn’t it? They only have one daughter. Why pick you for the ghost marriage? Even if your birth charts match, it shouldn’t be like that.】

Yun Chun understood what Aunt Ping meant: Lu Qingxue was a girl, so logically, the partner should be a boy.

But who said partners had to be opposite genders?

Even in today’s open-minded society, ideas like that didn’t reach a conservative little village.

Let alone someone like Aunt Ping, who’d spent her whole life there.

As for why the Lu Family chose her—birth chart or something else—Yun Chun didn’t know. She’d have to go back and ask in person.

Right now, there was something else she desperately wanted to know.

Her stiff fingers tapped out a message on the keyboard, taking twice as long as usual: 【Aunt Ping, how did Lu Qingxue… die?】

【I’m not sure. Want me to go ask around?】

【No need, Aunt Ping. I’ll ask when I get back.】

【You’re coming back?】

【Yeah. I can’t just let this slide, can I?】

【Alright. If you need a place to stay, come to my house. Let me know when you’re heading back—I’ll pick you up.】

【Okay.】

Yun Chun pocketed her phone and studied herself in the mirror for a moment, ensuring her expression betrayed nothing unusual. Then she headed to the boss’s office to request a week’s leave.

Yun Chun rarely took time off in her quest to earn money. Only if a job introduced by Qin Xing clashed with her schedule and no one could swap shifts would she ask. Sometimes those gigs were out of town, but her longest leave had been three days. So when she requested a full week, not only the boss but even the Big Boss lounging on the sofa looked up curiously. “What for?”

Mo Yue’s cool voice reached her ears. Yun Chun turned to her. “Something came up back home.”

At the mention of home, a shadow flickered in Mo Yue’s eyes. She crossed her legs. “Will a week be enough?”

Yun Chun nodded. “Yes.”

Mo Yue said nothing more. “Mm. Go ahead.”

Yun Chun inclined her head and left the office, a faint unease stirring within her.

From the first time she’d met Mo Yue, she’d felt like the woman saw echoes of someone from her past in her. The attention made Yun Chun feel almost like she was being entrusted with a final wish.

But she pushed the thought aside. She had more pressing matters.

After leaving the office, Yun Chun detoured into another room and stood by the printer.

—

The moment she got home from work and stepped through the door, that long-familiar sensation of being watched enveloped her.

Yun Chun took it in stride. Calmly, she changed into slippers, set down her bag, and walked to the center of the living room. She pulled out a rolled-up sheet of A4 paper.

Unfurling it, she held it in one hand.

Unsure where Lu Qingxue was, Yun Chun could only clutch the paper, spin in place, and address the air. “Come on out. Let’s get a divorce.”

She didn’t realize how eerie she looked—more so than the mysterious atmosphere around her.

The paper in her hand was a divorce paper she’d found online via Baidu, tweaked slightly, and printed.

As her words hung in the air, silence answered her.

After a few seconds with no response, Yun Chun cleared her throat. “You don’t have to answer those earlier questions. I know you didn’t have a choice, just like I didn’t.”

The person was dead. A ghost marriage would’ve been arranged by the elders. Lu Qingxue was as much a victim as she was.

Aunt Ping said it happened months ago.

Right around when she’d first dreamed of her. The oppressive feeling that followed her everywhere, the intermittent fear, the unease of constant surveillance.

All because of this absurd, outdated notion.

Forced into this bond, Lu Qingxue entering her dreams must have been out of desperation.

Yun Chun composed herself and spoke to the air again. “So before things get too serious, why don’t we cut this tie now?”

Though there was no reply, she knew.

Lu Qingxue was there.

She could feel those eyes on her from some unseen place.

As Yun Chun finished speaking, a burning sensation flared at her fingertips.

She looked down to see the printed divorce paper inexplicably ignite.

Orange-red flames leaped up.

In an instant, the fire consumed the white sheet.

Yun Chun hurriedly released her fingers. The moment the paper fluttered to the ground, she stamped her foot down on it. After stomping two or three times to smother the flames, she squatted down and stared at what remained—a single scorched character reading “Divorce”. She looked up. “What are you doing? I can’t afford to pay if you burn the house down.”

No need to spell it out: this spontaneous combustion was undoubtedly Lu Qingxue’s handiwork.

Yun Chun shot her an accusing glare, her tone laced with unconscious complaint.

After speaking, Yun Chun pursed her lips, suddenly wondering if she was being too brazen in front of a ghost.

Even knowing full well that the other woman was a ghost—and that they’d even formed a ghost marriage to boot—Yun Chun felt not a shred of fear.

Perhaps… because it was Lu Qingxue?

The big sister who’d given her candy and gently ruffled her hair with a warm smile?

Deep down, that made her believe the gentle soul from her memories would never harm her.

Yes, she knew Lu Qingxue.

Though their acquaintance had been fleeting, with no real closeness between them. Otherwise, Yun Chun surely would have heard about her death.

As Yun Chun bent down to gather the scattered scraps of paper—her fingertips smudged black with ash—a pair of bare feet materialized from nowhere beneath her lowered eyelids. They were deathly pale, devoid of any color, and wore neither shoes nor socks.

And these feet hovered just above the floor, treading empty air.

Yun Chun’s heart skipped a beat.

Then it raced wildly.

Her blood surged through her veins in an instant.

An indescribable emotion washed over her, halting her motions as she slowly lifted her head, tracing upward from those feet.

Before she could raise it fully, a hand descended onto her head.

It forced her to pause.

Bony yet firm fingers gently combed through Yun Chun’s silky hair. A voice like the softest froth bubbled forth in a warm sigh. “Silly girl,”

“If a single sheet of paper could sever the bond between us, I’d have told you on the very first day.”