Chapter Seven: Crimson Attire

“Open the coffin…”

A hoarse voice followed, as if echoing up from an endless abyss.

I knew then that I had reached my destination. Perhaps it was the conversation with the little fox earlier, but my fear had lessened, though sweat still clung to my brow, refusing to dry.

Suddenly, a faint, dusky light shone in. It wasn’t blinding, but it carried a chill.

“Young master of the Yang family, we’ve arrived!”

An ancient voice reached my ears, and then I saw an old woman with a withered face appear before me.

She wore a red cloth tied around her hair, which was ashen white. Judging by her attire, she was a matchmaker.

“She is a spirit matron. She won’t harm you. Do as she says, stay silent, and follow her instructions,” the little fox whispered, giving me a sense of reassurance.

I sat up and realized I had been lying inside a coffin. Beneath me was a stack of jet-black burial shrouds. I forced myself to suppress the terror rising within, numbing my mind with the refrain: don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid.

It wasn’t until the spirit matron helped me out of the coffin that I fully grasped my situation.

I had climbed out of a large crimson coffin. Eight people stood in neat formation around it, the so-called “eight bearers” of a grand sedan.

Beneath my feet, the ground was paved with ancient marble slabs, and even standing there, I could feel a strange, opulent aura pressing in.

Ahead stood a lavish mansion, its eaves and corners hung with red lanterns, splashing color into the dim, yellow-tinged gloom. All around, mountains layered upon mountains, mist curling between them, and in the pale, jaundiced sky, a ghastly white moon hung, chilling to behold.

“Young master of the Yang family, let’s go.”

I nodded and followed the diminutive spirit matron toward the grand house.

The moment I took a step, the eight bearers behind me—wherever they’d produced their instruments from—began to play, their music breaking the silence of the place, sending a shudder through my heart.

I glanced at a young man standing not far off, playing a rustic suona. His fingers danced over the holes, but the melody was all wrong, completely off-key. The tune the eight played together resembled the dirges I’d heard in the countryside at funerals, making my scalp tingle with dread.

“Young master of the Yang family, knock on the door.”

I said nothing, climbed the spotless stone steps, and stood before a pair of ancient bronze doors. Looking up, I saw three large characters on the lintel: “Beauty’s Retreat.”

Shaking my head, I grabbed the bronze ring and, imitating scenes from television, rapped three times.

The spirit matron gestured for me to step back three paces and wait.

I did as told. After about a dozen breaths, the bronze doors slowly opened, and four women stepped out. Each was strikingly beautiful, but it was their eyes—one glance felt as though my soul would be snatched away.

“Don’t look into their eyes! They’re fox sirens—beware, or they’ll steal your very soul!”

A chill ran through me. One woman, clad in deep violet, twisted her body seductively and flashed a bewitching smile.

Damn, this was real soul-stealing beauty.

My mind filled with images of women’s bodies, then with fox spirits from old tales.

Music rose from within the mansion, echoing the dirges behind me, driving another wave of goosebumps over my skin.

“Young master of the Yang family, please enter.”

The spirit matron seized my sleeve and pulled me inside.

Once within, I realized the mansion was far larger than it appeared. This outer courtyard alone could have held four or five football fields.

Barely inside, I saw four stiff-faced middle-aged men not far away, dressed as sedan bearers from old television dramas. On approaching, I saw them swaying as they lifted a pitch-black sedan chair.

“Young master of the Yang family, please board the sedan.” The spirit matron lifted the curtain.

Without hesitation, I climbed in. She dropped the curtain and muttered, “Lift the sedan!”

Then, leaning close to the sedan, she whispered, “Young master, Miss Su Ying has been waiting. We’re taking you straight to the main hall for the wedding vows.”

I didn’t speak, but at the mention of wedding vows, my heart raced—out of fear rather than excitement.

My legs started to shake uncontrollably.

Ever since I’d left the coffin, I’d felt that everyone around me was not human. At the door, I’d met those fox sirens, and now, I was being led straight to the main hall to wed Su Ying.

Suddenly, I understood the meaning of that invitation.

If I hadn’t accepted it, would any of this have happened?

“Don’t let your spirit falter. Even if you’re afraid, don’t show it. They’re starting to sense the talisman on you. Remember, tonight you can trust no one but me. Nothing you see here is truly human.”

The little fox’s words sent another wave of chills through me.

“That… that Su Ying…”

I lowered my voice to a bare mutter, barely audible even to myself.

“She’s not human, but not merely a ghost either. Just follow instructions. Once you’re in the bridal chamber, we’ll act…”

I managed a faint assent.

“The evil energy here is overwhelming. I must conceal my presence, close my senses—so from now on, you’re on your own. When you get to the bridal chamber, drip a little blood onto the crystal ball, and I’ll help you escape.”

Another faint assent escaped me.

Now my body was trembling uncontrollably, utterly beyond my will.

In my mind, I kept numbing myself—don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid.

But the more I did so, the more cold sweat poured down my back, soaking my brow until I could barely keep my eyes open.

“We’re here,” the spirit matron announced, making me shudder from head to toe.

The sedan curtain was lifted, revealing her face, shriveled like old tree bark.

“Young master of the Yang family, please alight…”

I climbed out on unsteady legs, supported by the spirit matron, and was led straight to the main hall.

The entire way was decorated for a wedding—red lanterns everywhere, festive trimmings—yet the lanterns seemed like watchful eyes, and the scarlet drapes on pillars and doors appeared oddly sinister.

What I hadn’t expected was that in the very center of the main hall stood a coffin identical to the one I’d been carried in, only this one was tightly sealed, its head facing outward and adorned with a large red flower.

On either side of the hall sat two rows of men and women, with the central seat left empty.

The spirit matron said nothing, so neither did I.

She led me to the coffin’s side and knocked three times on the lid.

“Dong, dong, dong…”