In the mist-covered hills of Xianzhou, nestled beyond a bamboo forest, stood the Li manor, an aging estate surrounded by silence. The villagers below whispered of screams at night, pale figures by the window, and blood seeping from the well. None dared go near it after dusk.
Yet tonight, a group of four dared step across its gates.
Characters:
Master Li Cheng – Once the lord of the manor, now a recluse.
Wu Ren – A traveling exorcist with a hidden past.
Lian – A blind girl with the gift of sensing spirits.
Zhao – A greedy soldier hoping to loot the haunted manor.
Nu Gui – The vengeful spirit of Lady Mei.
They entered just before sunset.
"This place reeks of blood," Lian whispered, her pale eyes flicking toward the main hall. "She's still here."
Master Li, once proud, now hunched and trembling, lit the old lanterns with shaking hands. "Please… rid me of her. She comes every night. I burn offerings. I chant her name. But she won't leave."
Wu Ren's eyes narrowed. "Because the dead don't answer prayers—they answer wrongs."
In the center of the great hall stood a wedding altar, untouched by time. Dust covered the red silk, but the blood on the bridal veil was fresh.
Lian flinched. "She's watching."
That night, the lanterns began to die, one by one.
Zhao, bored and skeptical, wandered toward the east wing where Master Li forbade them to go.
Inside, he found a locked room. It reeked of mildew, and the door was smeared with dried red ink—a sealing charm long faded.
He broke it open.
There, he found an old bridal chamber. A wedding bed, soaked in blood. A mirror, cracked. And a journal.
He flipped through its brittle pages.
> "My name is Mei. They told me I would be his bride. But there was no wedding. Only ropes. Only fire."
Zhao dropped the book.
Behind him, the mirror shifted. And in it, a pale woman in a bloodied bridal gown stood smiling.
He turned—nothing.
But when he blinked, a red silk thread was looped around his neck.
He never screamed.Master Li confessed at dawn.
"She was a servant girl. Mei. I… I desired her. Promised her marriage. But my family, they said she was low-born. I locked her in the east wing. Told the world she ran away."
He buried his face in his hands.
"But she didn't. She killed herself. Slit her wrists with the hairpin I gifted her. Bled out on her wedding bed."
Wu Ren's face twisted. "No. She didn't kill herself, did she?"
Master Li's silence said everything.
"She was strangled," said Lian softly. "Choked with red wedding silk. By your own hands."
"Her screams… still echo in these walls," she whispered. "She was buried beneath the lotus pond. Unblessed. Unnamed."
Wu Ren stood. "You murdered your bride and buried her like a stray dog. Now she's returned as a Nu Gui. A ghost born from betrayal."
The air grew colder.
Lanterns snuffed themselves out.
And then, a low humming began—a bridal song, slow and broken.
From the darkness, she emerged.
Lady Mei. The Nu Gui.
Face pale as snow, eyes black and weeping blood, lips curled in a broken smile. Her hands dragged the red bridal veil behind her like a shroud.
Master Li fell to his knees. "Mei… forgive me…"
She raised one hand. The red silk thread unraveled from her sleeve and snaked around his throat.
Wu Ren stepped forward, slamming his palm to the floor. A seal ignited, glowing blue.
"Begone, spirit!"
But she only turned to him—smiling.
"You of all men should know," she whispered, her voice like wind through broken glass. "There is no peace for women like me."
She vanished into mist—and reappeared behind him.
Lian screamed.
The exorcist turned too late—his body hit the floor, his face twisted in terror.
The seal burned out.By dawn, only Lian remained.
The manor was silent.
Red thread hung like cobwebs in every corner, and the bridal veil now lay atop the altar—soaked in fresh blood.
Lian sat, tears on her cheeks.
"She's still here," she whispered. "She will always be here."
As she reached for her cane, she felt something cold wrap around her fingers.
A hand.
A soft, cold hand.
Lady Mei leaned close, her breath icy.
"You… saw me."
Lian trembled. "I see everything."
But the Nu Gui didn't harm her. Instead, she gently placed the bridal hairpin in Lian's palm—still stained with old blood.
"Tell my story," she said. "Or I will keep telling it myself."
They say no one dares enter the Li manor anymore.
But on nights of the blood moon, villagers still hear a wedding song, drifting through the fog.
And a bride, walking through the ruins.
Searching.
For love.
For justice.
Or simply…
For the next liar.
If you enjoyed The Red Thread Bride, please don't forget to leave a like ❤️ and drop a comment below 📝.
Your thoughts, theories, and chills are what keep ghost stories like this alive…
(and perhaps help keep the Nu Gui asleep a little longer.)
Tell me—
👰 Did she deserve revenge?
🩸 Which scene haunted you the most?
I read every comment, and your support means the world.
More twisted tales are on the way…
Stay brave. Stay curious.
— Author