Anping struggled through half a bowl of instant noodles. When he finally looked up, he found that the space around him had quietly shifted.
The room’s decor had transformed into an antique style. He was surrounded by four folding screens, with a square "Four Immortals" table in the center and a revolving horse lantern hanging overhead. The air was filled with a cool, crisp scent, reminiscent of plum blossoms.
Before leaving, Mu Gesheng had said that eating the noodles would allow him to return. However, Anping was certain that the scene before him was definitely not of the living world. His heart sank, and he began to panic again. Had something gone wrong with the process? Had he eaten the noodles before they were fully soaked? Or had he not added enough seasoning packets?
The surroundings were silent. Anping wrestled with his thoughts for a while, eventually deciding that Mu Gesheng likely wouldn't screw him over—after all, he hadn't paid him yet.
Perhaps what was happening was a normal phenomenon. This place might be some kind of transit station; he just had to open the right door to go back.
Anping stood there like an idiot for a moment, realizing the room wasn't automated and lacked a teleportation function. If he wanted to leave, he had to take the initiative. He pushed a screen aside slightly and discovered a corridor outside, illuminated by tall red candles and lined with long, decorative lattice windows.
The atmosphere was perfect for a haunting. Anping’s scalp tingled, and his first instinct was to turn and run. However, there were no other doors; whether he was looking for a way out or a way to die, there was only one path. Gritting his teeth, he steeled his nerves and stepped onto the corridor on tiptoe. He bolted across, hopping and skipping like a grasshopper on a hot plate.
At the end of the corridor was a door. Anping didn't dare stop, knowing that if he did, he’d just stand outside cowering for ages. He simply charged through in one breath.
After nine years of compulsory education, it was rare for him to be this bold, but his surge of courage was cut short mid-stride. Anping’s eyes widened at the sight inside the room, and he let out a strangled, high-pitched yelp.
Floral candles on the table, red silk canopies—this was a wedding chamber!
The overwhelming sight of red was jarring. It wasn't that he was overthinking things, but the "haunted wedding chamber" trope was practically a staple of ghost stories. To make matters worse, this chamber was in an antique style—festive yet eerie, looking every bit the part of a nightmare.
He immediately moved to retreat, but his foot caught on the high threshold. He took a tumble, crashing straight into the offering altar by the door. Jars and bottles shattered on the floor with a cacophony of clatters. Anping fell so hard he saw stars, thinking to himself: *It’s over, it’s all over. Please don't let a female ghost pop out to claim my soul.*
Dazed and sprawled on the ground, he forced his eyelids open to look further in. He saw the curtains in the distance flutter, revealing layers of gold-embroidered sleeves piled high, leading up to a figure hidden beneath a large red bridal veil.
Only then did Anping realize there was someone sitting in the room. Judging by the attire, it was undoubtedly a bride.
Great. Exactly what he feared. He was a goner.
Between the exhaustion of the journey and the sheer terror, the sea of red before him began to blur. Anping’s breath hitched, his eyes rolled back, and he finally fainted.
***
When Anping opened his eyes, bright daylight was streaming through the window.
"Finally awake. You sure can sleep," Mu Gesheng’s voice drifted over. "How are you feeling?"
Anping sat up groggily, taking a long time to regain his bearings. "Are we... back?"
"We’re back. You’re currently in the genuine world of the living, no fakes allowed." Mu Gesheng was sitting on a front-row desk, handing him a steaming enamel mug. "It’s already eight in the morning."
Anping took it blankly. "It’s the next day?"
"That’s right. You’ve got a big heart, boss—slept right through the night."
"I had a very strange dream." Anping clearly hadn't fully processed things yet. He took a sip from the mug. "What is this? It’s actually pretty good."
"Brown sugar water with osmanthus. Good for nourishing *qi* and blood—usually for women."
"...Well, thanks for that." Anping choked for a second before getting back to the point. "I dreamed I was in a room, an ancient wedding chamber. There was even a bride inside."
"Are you sharing the details of a wet dream with me, An-Bottle?" Mu Gesheng arched an eyebrow. "What kind of bride? How was she?"
Anping nearly sprayed his water. "It wasn't a wet dream! It was more like a horror movie! I nearly died of fright. It couldn't be that Santu Space you mentioned, could it? Did some messy thing possess me?"
"I can tell you." Mu Gesheng smiled. "For a price."
"Can't you throw in some after-sales service for free?" Anping was mentally exhausted. "How much?"
"Talking about money hurts our friendship. Just do my homework for this session." Mu Gesheng opened his phone. "But don't worry, it’s common for ordinary people to have weird dreams after coming out of the Santu Space. It’s harmless; it’ll pass in a few days."
Anping finally felt a bit relieved. After a moment’s thought, he pulled the keychain Mu Gesheng had given him from his pocket. "What do we do with these Teru Teru Bozu dolls? Are you going to piece the Class Rep’s soul back together from these?"
"It’s not piecing a soul; it’s summoning one." Mu Gesheng took the keychain. "Our after-sales service is very comprehensive. Leave the rest to me. The Class Rep should wake up in a few days."
"That’s great. At least the effort wasn't wasted." Anping let out a long sigh of relief. "By the way, you said the Class Rep was drawn into the Santu Space because her 'heart-knot' was too heavy. Do you know what it was?"
Mu Gesheng glanced at him. "You want to know?"
Anping quickly waved his hands. "Sorry, sorry. I don't know the rules of your trade. If it’s not convenient to answer, forget it."
"You misunderstood me." Mu Gesheng pulled out another handful of coins. "I can calculate it, but it’ll cost extra."
Anping: "..."
"Don't look so miserable, little boss. Out of money? I can give you a discount."
"I just feel like prying into other people’s business isn't right. The Class Rep might not want me to know." Anping scratched his head. "But things have come to this, so knowing the truth doesn't seem too out of line. We are classmates, after all, and we get along well enough."
"So?"
"How should I put it... I feel like her heart-knot is so heavy, yet she usually acts like nothing is wrong. I think..." Anping hesitated. "Maybe someone should take the initiative to help her. She might not want to talk, but since it’s already this serious, someone should give her a hand."
"The more I talk, the weirder it sounds." Anping waved it off. "My mind wanders; don't laugh at me."
"I noticed." Mu Gesheng smiled and handed his phone to Anping. "After-sales service. Don't mention it."
Anping took the phone in surprise and found the Class Rep’s student file on the screen. His gaze stopped on a specific line. "This... where did you get this?"
"I’ve been held back for three years; I’m quite familiar with digging through files." Mu Gesheng said, "Before her freshman year, she took a gap year—or rather, her enrollment was delayed by a year."
"She was sent to an internet addiction treatment center. The reason was an online romance."
Anping was speechless.
"The things we saw in the rooms of the Santu Space were likely her memories from that gap year." Mu Gesheng took the phone back from Anping. "I did some searching while you were asleep. The place she went to was definitely not a good one. It’s not surprising it attracted the Santu Space."
"...Is there still hope for her?"
"She can wake up, and her body can recover," Mu Gesheng said. "The rest is none of my business."
"Then whose business is it?"
"It’s her own, her parents’, or someone else’s. In short, these are matters of the mortal world. I’m just a failing student who’s been held back; what right do I have to speak on it?"
"I thought her parents were good to her." Anping didn't know what to say. "But this kind of thing... Sigh, I don't know. Who do you think is right or wrong?"
"How should I know? I don't even know which of the four options, A, B, C, or D, is right on a mock exam." Mu Gesheng shrugged. "Without knowing the cause and effect, one shouldn't pass judgment. Parroting others is the easiest thing to do; sometimes, silence is what’s difficult."
"True. I was being presumptuous." Anping sighed. "Forget it, I’ll think about it myself."
"There are too many things that can't be figured out. Take it slow." Mu Gesheng thought for a moment. "You can't say who’s right or wrong, but the Class Rep is the most innocent. You could say she was young and foolish, but for a teenager, the first stirrings of love aren't a mistake."
"Mistakes should be punished, of course, but this wasn't punishment—it was killing her." Mu Gesheng commented, "It went too far."
"So you think her parents were wrong?"
"I told you, I don't know." Mu Gesheng was helpless. "An-Bottle, why are you so stubborn?"
Anping stared at him, silent.
"Fine, fine." Mu Gesheng sighed. "Do you know why the Class Rep could still be saved?" He didn't wait for Anping to speak before answering his own question. "Right, you definitely don't."
"Because of that bowl of pickled cabbage noodles. The bowl she ate back then left a 'link.' Because of it, we could enter to save her, and because of it, we could escape."
"I checked just now. That day was the Class Rep’s birthday."
"You said that bowl of noodles was brought by her mother. It was likely a bowl of Longevity Noodles she made with her own hands."
"The Class Rep developed a heart-knot because of her parents' actions, yet she was saved because of a bowl of noodles from her mother."
Mu Gesheng tossed the coins in his hand, their clinking crisp and clear. "To give life and raise, to raise and then kill, to kill and then save—who is right and who is wrong? To do blind things out of a heart of concern... what of forgiveness? And what if there is no forgiveness? Each entry is a mess of an account. There are too many things in this world that can't be calculated clearly. If it weren't so, Fengdu wouldn't be overrun with fierce ghosts and soaring resentment. A Magistrate’s pen
