红烛之夜
第一章:归乡
民国十七年,江南初秋.
当火车在黄昏时分呼啸着驶入小河畔车站时,我沉浸在窗边的思绪中.八年.上海的霓虹灯和喧嚣依旧在我眼前闪烁,而家乡的气息已透过窗缝渗入车厢——桂花,潮湿,混合着水国独特湿润的空气.它就像一只看不见的手,把我从记忆深渊拉回这片土地.
我叫陈默轩.八年前我离开时,以为自己会像那些留学归来的绅士一样,穿着丝绸长袍,为家族带来荣耀.我从没想过今天,我的行李箱里只装着几件旧衣服,几本外国书籍,满是困惑的心,以及父亲那封紧急而神秘的电报.
"莫玄大师!"
站台上,老陈的身影在昏暗的煤气灯下被拉得又长又瘦.他老了许多,背脊弯曲如疲惫的弓,眼角的皱纹深邃如刀割.当我握住他枯萎的竹手时,我哽咽了一下.
"父亲,他..."
"主人在庄园等你."老陈避开我的目光,声音压得很低,仿佛害怕打扰到什么."少爷,既然您回来了...你必须做好准备."
我的心突然沉了下去.父亲总是稳重而冷静;电报中的六个字"极为紧急,立即返回"已经非常非凡.
马车轮子在湿滑的蓝石铺面上发出嘎吱声,声音在寂静的街道和小巷中格外清晰.临水县看起来和过去一模一样:白墙,黑色瓷砖,横跨流水的小桥,黄旗在晚风中轻轻摇曳.但仔细一看,奇异无处不在——每户门楣上贴着猩红纸符,门神画像怒目而视,滴着辰砂,凶猛到扭曲.几扇门口悬挂着青铜镜,镜面在暮色中冷冷闪烁.
"老陈,镇上,这里是..."
"邪恶."老管家从牙缝里挤出这个词,身体向我倾斜."三个月前开始的.张家的少爷,一位完全安好的人,早晨被发现死在书房里,眼睛睁得大大的.验尸官说...他吓得要死.不到七天,李家的女儿即将出嫁,午夜时分跳入井中.当他们把她拉出来时,她的身体僵硬,但脸上带着微笑...那笑容让你寒彻骨髓."
他停顿了一下,喉结上下上下晃动."最糟糕的是钱家.老太太七十岁生日,三桌盛宴.全家五口加上两个厨房帮手,全都瘫倒在桌旁.七个孔口都有血.他们检测了酒和菜,没有毒药."
一阵寒意顺着脊背窜上来."当局怎么说?"
"县法官亲自主持了调查,搜查了整整半个月.最后,他们只是称之为'突发性恶性疾病'."老陈苦笑一声."但镇上的人都说是'鬼新娘'来夺人命."
"鬼新娘?"
话音刚落,马车突然剧烈颠簸,停了下来.前方,一阵喧嚣夹杂着尖锐刺耳的索娜声,撕裂了暮色的寂静.
一支婚礼队伍正向我们蜿蜒而来.
但这是什么样的欢乐时刻?
八名抬着一把巨大的红色轿子,脸色苍白,眼神空洞,步伐僵硬如木偶.女唄队的球员们脸颊鼓鼓,但脸上没有一丝健康的红晕,只有可怕的苍白.锣声和鼓声敲打出混乱无序的节奏,带着难以言喻的荒凉气息.
最可怕的是那把轿子.窗帘被拉下,密封得很紧,但从底部边缘,一条深红色的线条缓缓渗出,一滴滴地洒在蓝石上,绽放成小巧而惊人的花朵.
路边的人群像逃亡的蛇一样四散逃开,匆忙让路.一位老人颤抖着双手举起一把小桃木剑,嘴唇默默地念咒.
"又是一场鬼婚."陈老的声音干涩."这是这个月的第三个."
轿子到了我们的马车旁.就在这时,一阵诡异的风从地面吹起,掀起了窗帘的一角.
我忍不住看了一眼.
轿车内,一只无血的手紧紧抓着车架,纤细的手指,但指甲涂成鲜艳,滴落的猩红色——如此刺眼,如此鲜艳...像是血.
那只手似乎感应到了我的目光.它缓缓转动,指尖指向我.
The wind lifted the curtain a little higher.
Beneath the red head-cover, a face was faintly visible. Complexion white as rice paper, lips a single dot of vermilion. And in the shadow of the head-cover, the corners of the mouth were curving upwards—a smile, a cold, resentful smile, yet carrying endless sorrow and a strange kind of anticipation.
What froze my blood almost solid was that from beneath that head-cover, a pair of eyes pierced unerringly through the swaying curtain, fixed dead on my face. That gaze was heart-shakingly complex, roiling with bitter hatred, lingering grief, and a hint of... an eerie light, as if seeing something destined.
"Young master! Don't look!"
Old Chen yanked me back violently, the carriage curtain falling, blocking the view. The sedan procession slowly moved away, only that scalp-pricking suona sound lingering in the twilight.
I sat rigidly on the seat, cold sweat already soaking through my inner garments.
After a long while, I found my voice again. "That sedan chair... was there a living person inside, or..."
Old Chen didn't answer. He just rapped hard on the carriage board, urging the driver hoarsely:
"Quick! Faster! We must reach the manor before dark!"
The carriage sped off, leaving behind the thick scent of osmanthus, the damp river air, and that suffocating, uncanny red shadow in the deepening twilight.
And I knew, some things, once seen, could never be cast aside.
Chapter 2: The Past
The Chen Manor was still imposing, with its white walls, black tiles, carved beams, and painted pillars. But the courtyard was now filled with many protective objects—stone lions with cinnabar stuffed in their mouths, threshold nails with coins of five emperors, even the rockery hung with red cords.
Father, Chen Yuanshan, sat in the main hall, hair and beard gone white, but his spirit still seemed vigorous. Seeing me enter, he dismissed the servants.
"Moxuan, I summoned you back because there's something you must be told." Father's hands trembled slightly. "About your marriage."
I was startled. "Marriage? Father, in Shanghai, I already have someone I care for..."
"I'm not talking about now." Father cut me off. "I'm talking about a marriage from eighteen years ago."
"Eighteen years ago?" I was bewildered. "I was only six then."
Father stood up, walked to the ancestral tablets, and lit three sticks of incense.
"Moxuan, do you remember falling gravely ill when you were six?"
Memories flooded back instantly. That autumn, I suddenly ran a high fever that wouldn't break, lying unconscious for seven days and seven nights. The town's famous doctors were all at a loss, even preparing a coffin. On the seventh night, I miraculously woke up, but I had no memory of those seven days at all.
"I remember." I nodded. "But what does that have to do with marriage?"
Father turned around, his eyes full of guilt and fear. "Because you survived... because I made a deal."
"What deal?"
"I pledged a marriage to the Yellow Springs."
The air in the room seemed to freeze solid. I stared at Father in disbelief. "You mean... a ghost marriage?"
Father slumped into his seat. "At the time, a Taoist priest said your illness was caused by a malevolent spirit's attachment. Only by arranging a yin marriage for you could your life be saved. I was desperate, out of my mind, I agreed to anything."
"Who was the other party?"
"The eldest daughter of the Lin family, Lin Wanqing." Father's voice was low. "She was two years older than you. Eighteen years ago, she drowned herself in the river. Her body was only recovered three days later. The priest said she died with eyes open, needing a marriage to find peace."
The image of that pale face in the sedan flashed through my mind, every hair on my body standing on end.
"So for these eighteen years, I've had a ghost wife?"
"And not only that." Father took out a red brocade box from a drawer. "The agreed term was eighteen years. After eighteen years, she would come to complete the marriage. Moxuan, today is your twenty-fourth birthday. It is also... the day she comes to claim you."
Inside the box lay a set of red wedding robes, the fabric already yellowed, smelling of camphor and mildew.
"That's impossible!" I shot to my feet. "This is superstition! Father, I've received a modern education in Shanghai, these ghosts and demons—"
Before I could finish, a mournful suona sound suddenly rose from the courtyard.
The wedding procession had arrived.
I rushed out of the main hall. Outside the gate stood a blood-red sedan chair. Eight bearers knelt in a row on the ground, facing the Chen Manor.
Even more bizarre, the entire street was empty, as if every living soul had vanished at that moment.
The sedan curtain slowly lifted.
A pallid hand stretched out, a red cord tied around the wrist, droplets falling from the fingertips—or rather, wet, dripping river water.
"Chen Moxuan—"
A woman's voice came from the sedan, ethereal and drifting, carrying the resentment of eighteen years: "It is time to fulfill the promise."
Chapter 3: The Truth
I instinctively stepped back, but found I couldn't move.
An invisible force was dragging me towards the sedan. I struggled desperately, but it was like being pulled by countless hands; my feet moved involuntarily towards that red sedan.
"Halt!"
A sharp cry. A yellow paper talisman flew through the air, sticking onto the sedan. It burst into flames instantly, and the sedan rocked violently.
A young woman in a moon-white long gown somersaulted down from the top of the wall, holding a peachwood sword, her bearing heroic and sharp. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with delicate features, but eyes as sharp as blades.
"Lin Qiuyue, descendant of the Celestial Masters, respectfully requests the lady to show herself!"
The woman thrust her sword at the sedan. The curtain tore instantly. Inside was empty, save for a set of moldy red wedding robes and a marriage certificate covered in blood-red writing.
"Masquerading as ghosts and gods!" Lin Qiuyue sneered. "A mere vengeful spirit dares to be so brazen?"
But the next moment, her expression changed drastically.
The wedding robes suddenly stood up, as if worn by someone. The empty sleeves pointed at me. At the collar, a blurred face faintly materialized—the same pallid face I had seen on the road.
"You... deceived me..."
The robes emitted a plaintive voice, each word weeping blood: "Eighteen years... I waited eighteen years..."
"Wanqing!" Father suddenly rushed out, falling to his knees on the ground. "It was my fault! But this debt of sin shouldn't be paid by my son!"
The robes turned sharply towards Father. "Chen Yuanshan, you personally promised eighteen years ago that your son would marry me. Now you want to break your word?"
"I..." Father's face turned ashen; he couldn't speak.
Lin Qiuyue stepped in front of me. "Master Chen, please step back." She looked at the robes. "Lin Wanqing, you were a lady from a respectable family in life. Why cling to an innocent person?"
"Innocent?" The robes let out a shrill, bitter laugh. "Eighteen years ago, they pushed me into the river! I died with eyes open! Finally, I got a ghost marriage, thinking I could be freed, and now you want to go back on your word! Tell me, shouldn't I be resentful?"
"Pushed into the river?" I was stunned. "Miss Lin, didn't you... take your own life?"
The robes fell silent.
An eerie atmosphere filled the air. After a moment, she slowly spoke. "Chen Moxuan, do you want to know the truth?"
Without waiting for my answer, the sleeves of the robes swept towards my forehead.
Everything went black.
Chapter 4: Flashback
The darkness didn't recede instantly. It was like ink soaked in water, spreading and fading layer by layer. When my sight cleared, I found myself standing in a place both unfamiliar and intensely familiar—the banks of the Linshui River, in front of the old Lin family estate.
Time had rewound here to eighteen years ago.
The old locust tree in the courtyard was in its prime, lush with leaves, sifting down fragmented golden light. The swing under the tree creaked softly. A little girl of about eight was swinging merrily. She wore a pale blue cotton jacket and skirt, the hem embroidered with small white butterflies that seemed ready to fly with the swing's rise and fall. Her hair was tied in two buns with red ribbons, neat and tidy, the bangs blown by the wind to reveal a pair of bright eyes, sparkling like a spring lake.
"Giggle..." Her laughter was as clear as wind chimes under the eaves, carefree, seeming capable of cleansing all the dust from the world.
"Wanqing, slower! Be careful you don't fall!" A woman in simple, clean clothes came out from under the corridor, carrying a sewing basket. Her eyes and brows were gentle, her tone full of fond worry.
"Mother, I'm not afraid! Look, I can see the willow tops over the wall!" The girl turned her head with a brilliant smile, gave a strong kick, and the swing soared higher, as if she really could ride the wind up to the sky.
The image rippled like water and dissipated.
When it coalesced again, it was still this courtyard. The locust leaves had yellowed and greened for several more rounds. The swing hung still, the moss on the stone steps a little deeper. Inside the window, that little girl had grown into a sixteen-year-old maiden. She sat sideways by an embroidery frame, pinching a silver needle between her fingers, guiding colored thread, carefully embroidering a pair of lotus flowers sharing one stem. The afternoon sun fell on her lowered neck and focused profile, outlining a soft, downy glow. Occasionally, she would pause her needle, lifting her eyes slightly to glance at the birds flying past the window, her pupils rippling with a maiden's unique, hazy yet bright longing—a tender hope for a life not yet unfolded.
"Miss," a maid slipped in quietly, her voice carrying a barely perceptible tension. "The master asks you to go to the study."
The maiden, Lin Wanqing, put down her needlework, straightened her sleeves, and walked lightly towards her father's study. Pushing the door open, the study was dimly lit. Father, Master Lin, sat alone in an armchair, looking as if he had aged overnight. Account books were spread before him; he was pressing his temples. Hearing his daughter enter, he lifted a face etched with deep worry and struggle.
"Wanqing..." he began, voice hoarse. "Your father... has let you down."
Wanqing froze.
"Our silk shop, three consecutive shipments had major trouble on the canal. We lost everything. The debts outside, the hole... we can't plug it." Master Lin closed his eyes, tears seeping from the corners. "The biggest creditor is the Chen family. They have now proposed... a way."
The maiden's heart seemed to skip a beat.
"The Chen family's only son, the six-year-old, is gravely ill, medicine and stones are useless. The Chen matriarch believes what the Taoist priest from Baiyun Temple said—they need a 'joyous event' to counteract the evil aura... They specifically named you, to marry over." The last few words were almost squeezed out with his breath, carrying a bloody shame and pain.
Wanqing's face instantly drained of all color, whiter than the paper outside the window. "Father... what are you saying? The Chen young master, he's only six! I... how can I..." Her voice began to tremble.
"Precisely because he's gravely ill, they urgently need the 'auspiciousness'." Master Lin covered his face, tears sliding between his fingers. "Wanqing, I know this is pushing you into a pit of fire. I'm useless, I can't protect you, I can't protect this family... The Chen family said if you don't marry, within three days they'll seize the house, the shops. Our whole family... being reduced to beggars on the streets would be the least of it, we might even face lawsuits."
The maiden stood there dumbstruck, as if her soul had been suddenly ripped away. Deathly silence filled the study, broken only by Father's suppressed sobs and the monotonous drip of the water clock. The light outside the window inched across her embroidered shoes; the exquisite pattern of butterflies and flowers now seemed bitterly ironic. A long time passed, as long as a whole cycle of reincarnation, before she nodded, extremely slowly.
"...I'll marry."
Her voice was light and airy, shattering upon hitting the ground.
The image whirled violently again, colors turning cold and gloomy.
Late at night, at the rear courtyard wall of the Lin estate. A slender figure wrapped in a dark cloak was struggling to climb the crooked tree by the corner. It was Wanqing. Her face held none of the daytime compliance, only the desperation of a last stand and the pallor born of fear. She clutched a small bundle tightly to her chest.
Just as her fingertips were about to reach the top of the wall, several dark shadows flashed out from the gloom like ghosts, silently blocking all escape routes.
"Miss Lin, the night is deep and dew heavy. Where might you be planning to wander for a stroll?" The leader spoke slowly; moonlight lit up half his face—it was the Chen family steward, usually all smiles, now his face frosty.
Wanqing stumbled back a step, her back hitting the cold brick wall, her voice sharp with tension. "I won't marry! Using a living person to bring luck to a dying child is against heaven's will! I'll go see the county magistrate! I'll expose you!"
"Expose?" The steward snorted a laugh, his eyes looking at her like a bird struggling in vain. "You think you can still leave Linshui County? You think the county magistrate would offend our Chen family for a mere merchant's daughter?"
He gave a slight signal, and several men in black closed in.
"Stay back!" Wanqing pulled a small pair of scissors from her sleeve—her usual sewing tool, now raised shakily in her hand, her only weapon.
The men in black showed no fear, easily knocking the scissors away. Wanqing resisted desperately, scratching, kicking, but was roughly shoved, staggering backwards. In the chaos, someone gave her a hard push from behind. She cried out in alarm, her foot slipping on the slick moss at the riverbank, losing her balance and falling backwards.
"Splash!"
The icy river water swallowed her instantly. The early autumn water was piercingly cold, soaking through her heavy clothes, dragging her down.
"Hel... help! Save—" Her cry was cut off by the rushing water, leaving only desperate splashing.
On the bank, the several men in black stood silently, like rows of lifeless stone statues. The steward stood with hands behind his back, coldly watching the gradually weakening struggle in the river, until the last ripple calmed, leaving only the dark, pitch-black surface reflecting the pale moonlight.
He flicked off non-existent dust from his sleeve, his voice calm and steady, instructing:
"Remember, Miss Lin was unwilling to marry a gravely ill child, felt ashamed before her parents, feared implicating her family, and came here late at night... to drown herself. Is that clear, everyone?"
...
"Boom——!"
All the images shattered like broken glass, exploding into millions of fragments, then transformed into a piercing chill stabbing back into my limbs. My eyes snapped open, I gasped for breath, as if I too had just been drowning at the bottom of the river, nearly suffocated. My face was ice-cold; reaching up to touch it, my hand came away wet with tears.
The wedding robes still hovered in mid-air, a burning red, but the overwhelming aura of resentment and malice around them seemed to have dissipated somewhat, replaced by a profound, bone-deep sorrow, a stillness to the extreme. They had no "face," yet I could clearly "feel" that gaze penetrating time and space, settling on me.
"Now... do you see?" Her voice sounded directly in my heart, distant and weary, no longer sharp. "I did not kill myself. I was pushed, and watched as I drowned. And your father, with money and influence, bribed the coroner, bribed everyone present, turned a murder into a 'beautiful tale' of a 'chaste maiden drowning for love.' My parents were forced to accept this, bearing the stigma of 'selling their daughter' and the agony of losing her, soon dying one after the other from grief, the family scattered."
Stiffly, extremely slowly, I turned my head to look at Father, who still knelt prostrate on the ground. He was already trembling like a sieve, forehead pressed to the floor, not daring to lift it.
"Father..." My voice was so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable. "What I just saw... is it true?"
Master Chen shuddered violently, finally raising his head. His face was streaked with tears, mixed with endless fear and remorse. "Moxuan... I—I was truly desperate back then! You were so sick, unconscious, the doctor said... said you might not make it through that winter! I am your father, how could I watch you die? The Taoist priest from Baiyun Temple said if a marriage could be arranged with an unmarried girl whose birth characters matched yours and who had strong vitality, transferring some 'auspicious energy,' there might be a slim chance... The Lin family happened to owe a huge debt, I... I was bewitched by a ghost!"
He pounded the ground, wailing. "But I swear! I only wanted to borrow a bit of her 'yang life force,' a bit of her 'auspicious energy'! I never meant to harm her life! It was the Chen family! The Chen family, fearing exposure, took matters into their own hands! Afterwards, when I knew, I was terrified, I regretted it! These eighteen years, not a single night have I slept peacefully. Closing my eyes, I see that girl looking at me from the water... I hired priests, set up arrays, pasted talismans, donated to build bridges and roads, desperately did good deeds to atone... But she, she wouldn't leave! The incidents in town these past three months, the Zhang family, Li family, Qian family... all were involved, more or less, in covering this up back then, or took hush money... she hasn't spared a single one!"
The truth was so naked and hideous. A chill shot from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head; the blood in my whole body ran cold. This wasn't about strange forces causing chaos, not a senseless disaster. Every grievance had its source, every debt its debtor.
I forced myself to calm down, turned towards that mournful, vivid red, took a deep breath, trying to suppress the turmoil in my chest.
"Miss Lin," I changed my form of address, my tone solemn. "What the Chen family owes you, what my father owes you—though I did not commit the evil myself, I cannot escape responsibility. I am willing to do everything in my power to make amends, but certainly not through that absurd ghost marriage. Please tell me, what is it you truly want now?"
The robes fell silent. The flowing, yin-cold aura around them seemed to stagnate. After a long while, that sorrowful voice sounded again, carrying a tremor of almost-dared-not-hope:
"What I wanted... has always been very simple. I wanted to live. To feel the warmth of sunlight on my face, to smell the first peach blossoms of spring, to hear how the orioles sing in the summer trees. I wanted to be like any ordinary woman, perhaps meet someone who cared for me, not necessarily rich or noble, just mutual respect; I wanted my own home, to watch children play at my knees, teach them to read and recite poetry... These most ordinary days, this life that should have been mine..."
Her voice trailed off, filled with boundless regret. "...were all crushed to pieces by those two words, 'auspicious marriage,' and your father's momentary misjudgment."
At this moment, Lin Qiuyue, who had been standing to the side with a complex, inscrutable expression, suddenly stepped forward. Her eyes were sharp as torches, fixed intently on the wedding robes, then shifting to me, as if she had made some decision.
"Perhaps," she began, her voice clear and calm, strikingly distinct in this room saturated with sorrow and remorse. "There is another way."
Both the robes' "attention" and mine turned to her.
Lin Qiuyue spoke slowly. "Ancient esoteric texts record a method. If a wronged soul holds deep attachment, but its origin is pure, unstained by innocent blood, and there exists a person bound by blood ties or great karmic connection who is willing to use their own 'vital energy' as a guide, aided by a special array... it might be possible to rebuild a 'soul foundation' for the spirit. Not entering the cycle of reincarnation, yet able to 'exist' in the mortal world in another form, to fulfill its wishes until the attachment dissipates."
She paused, her gaze falling on my face, enunciating each word clearly. "But this method requires someone deeply connected to the deceased, willing to bear no small cost. Chen Moxuan, are you willing?"
Chapter 5: The Choice
"What method?" I asked.
Lin Qiuyue took out a roll of yellowed scripture from her bosom. "This is the 'Returning Soul Scripture,' secretly passed down in the Celestial Masters lineage. It can use ten years of a living person's lifespan in exchange for one chance of rebirth for a ghost. But after rebirth, she will have no memory of her past life."
"I'm willing!" I said without hesitation.
"Wait." Lin Qiuyue looked at me seriously. "You need to think clearly. Ten years of lifespan means you will only live to thirty-four. Moreover, after she is reborn, she won't remember any of this. She won't know you saved her, and she won't repay you."
"I don't need her repayment." I said calmly. "But what my father owes her, I must repay."
"Moxuan!" Father wanted to stop me, but I silenced him with a look.
"Father, listen carefully." I said coldly. "From today, you have two choices. First, go to the county office and confess, tell the truth of eighteen years ago. Second, I sever ties with you as father and son. I want nothing from the Chen family."
Father's face turned deathly pale. Finally, he slumped and nodded. "I... I will go confess."
I turned to the robes. "Miss Lin, if you are willing to accept this arrangement, we can begin the ritual now."
The vengeful spirit within the robes seemed to hesitate. After a long time, she asked softly, "Why? You could have had that female priest exorcise me."
"Because you are innocent." I said. "And... the fact that I am alive today is built upon your death. These ten years of lifespan are a debt I should repay."
The robes suddenly laughed—a laugh of release. "Chen Moxuan, you are much stronger than your father."
She drifted before me, letting me see her face clearly for the first time.
It was a delicate, pretty face, though pale, one could vaguely see the beauty she had in life. Her eyes were large; now they held no resentment, but were filled with an indescribable gentleness.
"I accept." she said. "But I have one condition."
"Please, tell me."
"If, after I am reborn, fate allows us to meet again... could you..." she paused, "...tell me that I was once called Lin Wanqing?"
I nodded. "I promise."
Lin Qiuyue began setting up the ritual array.
She drew a complex Eight Trigrams diagram with cinnabar in the courtyard, placed forty-nine white candles, and set a statue of Guanyin in the center.
"Chen Moxuan, stand in the center." she directed. "Lin Wanqing, attach yourself to this memorial tablet."
I stood in the center of the array, feeling a strange energy flowing around me.
Lin Qiuyue began chanting the scripture, her voice ethereal and drifting. "Heaven and earth boundless, universe lends its law. Exchange life for death, supplement yin with yang. By the decree of the Supreme Lord Lao, I open the gate of soul return..."
A gale suddenly rose.
The flames of the white candles in the courtyard surged wildly. I felt something within me being drawn out—it was my lifespan, a part of my life force.
Pain. Excruciating pain.
As if countless needles were piercing my marrow, as if someone were extracting my soul. I gritted my teeth, enduring, cold sweat pouring like rain.
I don't know how long it lasted. Finally, the pain stopped.
I collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent.
"It is done." Lin Qiuyue put away the scripture, pointing before the Guanyin statue. "She will be reborn in infant form after forty-nine days."
Before the Guanyin statue, the blood-red wedding robes had turned to ashes. Only a faint, weak light remained, slowly floating up into the night sky.
"Chen Moxuan."
Lin Wanqing's final voice echoed on the wind. "Thank you. If there is a next life... I wish to be a good person."
The light dispersed.
All returned to stillness.
Chapter 6: Eight Years Later
The twenty-fifth year of the Republic, late spring.
I sat in a café on the Shanghai Bund, flipping through a newspaper.
Eight years had passed since that eerie night. Father ultimately confessed and was sentenced to ten years in prison. I took over the family business, but donated most of the assets to charity. Now I ran a modest bookstore in Shanghai, living a quiet life.
Only, my health worsened year by year. The doctor said it was like I had a strange illness, aging prematurely.
I knew it was the price of those ten years of lifespan.
"Sir, your coffee."
A clear, crisp female voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked up to see a young waitress smiling as she set down a coffee cup. She was about seventeen or eighteen, with delicate features and a smile that showed two shallow dimples.
"Thank you." I nodded politely.
"You're welcome." She paused. "Sir, may I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
"Do you believe in past lives and present lives?"
I was stunned. The question was too abrupt.
She seemed to realize it too, blushing slightly. "Sorry, I've been having this dream lately. Dreaming I'm wearing red wedding robes, standing by a river. When I wake up, my pillow is all wet, like I really cried."
My hand trembled.
"You... what's your name?"
"Lin Qiuyu." she said. "But I always feel this name isn't right. It's like it should be... Wanqing?"
The coffee cup slipped from my hand, shattering on the floor.
"I'm so sorry!" She quickly knelt to clean it up. "I—I shouldn't ask such strange questions..."
"Wait." I caught her wrist.
She looked up at me, puzzled.
"Your wrist," I pointed to a red birthmark on her left wrist, "this mark..."
It was the shape of a red cord, identical to the red cord Lin Wanqing had worn on her wrist eighteen years ago.
"This?" She glanced at the birthmark. "I've had it since I was little. My mother says it's a mark from a past life, maybe I really had something to do with a red cord in my previous life."
I took a deep breath and made a decision.
"Miss Lin, do you have time? I'd like to tell you a story."
She looked at me curiously. "What story?"
"A story about... Lin Wanqing."
Her eyes widened instantly. "How do you know that name?"
I smiled—a smile of release. "Because I promised her. If fate allowed us to meet again, I would tell her that she was once called Lin Wanqing."
For the next two hours, I told her everything from eighteen years ago.
She listened raptly, her eyes gradually growing moist.
"So, I really am her reincarnation?"
"I believe so." I said. "Your birthmark, your dreams, the name 'Wanqing' you mentioned—none are coincidences."
She was silent for a long time, then suddenly asked, "And your poor health now, is it because you gave me ten years of your lifespan?"
I didn't deny it.
She began to cry. "Why? We were strangers. Why would you go that far for me?"
"Because my father owed you a debt." I said calmly. "Because you should have had a whole life, not eighteen years as a vengeful spirit."
"But... but now I'm alive, and you will die early..." She wiped her tears. "It's not fair!"
"Life is never absolutely fair." I said with a smile. "But at least now you can live well. See the peach blossoms bloom, hear the orioles sing, marry someone you love, have children—these are what you deserve."
She suddenly looked up. "What if... what if I wanted to stay with you? Would that be alright?"
I was taken aback.
"I know it sounds absurd." She said, blushing. "We've just met, but for some reason, the moment I saw you, I felt very close, like... like I knew you in a past life."
"And," she looked at me earnestly, "you gave ten years of your life for me. I have to repay that somehow. Even if you don't want repayment, I'd like to stay with you, even if just... so you're not so alone."
Looking into her sincere eyes, I suddenly understood something.
Perhaps this was fate's unseen hand.
Eighteen years ago, she and I were connected by a debt of sin. Eighteen years later, we met again through an act of redemption.
"Alright." I took her hand. "If you're willing, then walk the rest of the way with me."
She smiled through her tears. "It's a promise."
Outside the window, spring light was beautiful.
Sunlight streamed into the café, falling on our clasped hands, warm and real.
At that moment, I suddenly was no longer afraid of death.
Because I knew, in this life, I had finally done one thing right.
Epilogue
The thirty-first year of the Republic, early winter.
Chen Moxuan died of illness in his Shanghai residence, aged only thirty-four.
At the funeral, his wife, Lin Qiuyu, five months pregnant, placed a bouquet of osmanthus before the tombstone.
"Moxuan, I will live well." She said softly. "With our child, with this life you gave me, I will live well."
On the tombstone was engraved a line:
"This life, no regrets. Next life, we meet again."
The wind blew, scattering the scent of osmanthus in the air.
In the distance, someone was singing an old folk song:
"Red candles dim the silken canopy, moonlight cools the painted hall.One lifetime of debt and grievance, two lifetimes of lingering affection."
——The End——