Global Ghost Stories: I'm Investigating Ghosts in My Nightmare!

Chapter 14 Bones as betrothal gifts, flesh and blood as wine

Time, like a drop of water falling into an extremely cold abyss, was frozen into eternity the moment it came into contact with that cup of blood-red wine.

Inside the ancestral hall, a deathly silence reigned. Hundreds of paper guests, bearing their eternally unchanging, eerie smiles, silently "watched" this sudden toasting ceremony. The eerie green lantern light intertwined with the blood-red carpet, transforming the entire space into a bizarre, inverted depiction of hell. The cloying, stench of decay in the air seemed to have found its source at this moment, emanating from the corpse of the groom and the wine glass he held aloft, penetrating the four people's nostrils and eroding their sanity.

"You've come from afar, please drink this cup."

That cold, emotionless voice continued to echo in the four people's minds, like a leech clinging to their bones. Each syllable transformed into an invisible shackle, binding them firmly in place. The oppressive feeling of the rules materialized at that moment, so heavy that they could barely breathe.

"Depend on!"

Mo Fei's suppressed roar exploded within the mental link like a trapped beast. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at the corpse of the groom, who was raising his wine glass. His bulging muscles pressed the wooden stool beneath him, making it creak as if it were about to burst open at any moment.

"I'm not eating anymore, and now they want me to drink this damn thing! Is this place never going to end? Even if I die today, I'll twist this damn groom's head off and kick it like a ball!" His mental fluctuations were so intense that he almost broke free from the bindings of the link. The emotion mixed with rage and despair was clearly transmitted to every teammate.

"Mo Fei! Sit down!" An Mu's voice was like ice that had never melted for millennia, instantly freezing Mo Fei's volatile temper. "Do you want to become a dish in the yard right now?!"

"But what good will happen if we don't drink?! That bullshit rule clearly states, 'You must drink it!'" Mo Fei gritted his teeth, glancing at the "cold dish" made of tongues on the table, his stomach churning again. "We've been driven to the brink, Captain! Rather than being played to death by these bastards, we might as well take them with us!"

“Rash courage solves nothing.” Lance’s voice was calm to the point of being cold. He quickly said in the link, “Refusing to drink violates the third rule. Based on the consequences of violating the second rule, our mortality rate is 100%, and the manner of death is most likely related to ‘disrespect,’ such as… being forced to drink something even more terrible. As for drinking this drink, the consequences are unknown. But between the unknown and certain death, the choice is the only one.”

"Unknown?" Mo Fei seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world. "Look at what's in that cup! It's human blood! It's juice squeezed from rotten flesh! If you drink it, the best you'll do is be assimilated into a puppet like Xiao Zhao!"

“That’s still better than turning into a pile of rotten flesh.” Lan Ce retorted mercilessly. “At least, if we become puppets, we’ll still have a chance to analyze the assimilation process and provide data for subsequent actions… although the probability of that is extremely low.”

"Enough!" An Mu interrupted their argument. He slowly stood up, his tall figure casting a reassuring shadow in the swaying green light. He didn't look at the corpse of the groom, but calmly swept his gaze over his three teammates.

“Lance is right, we have no choice. Someone has to drink this glass.” His voice was incredibly calm, as if he had already made a decision. “As the captain of Team One, I will take this risk.”

"No way!" Mo Fei and Lan Ce voiced their opposition almost simultaneously in the link.

"Captain, you're our commander! What will we do if you fall?" Mo Fei said anxiously. "If anyone should go, it'll be me! I'm tough, maybe I can hold on!"

"Based on a comprehensive assessment of survival rate and intelligence acquisition rate, the captain's value is the highest, and his priority in taking risks should be last." Lan Ce's analysis remained cold and precise.

“That’s an order.” An Mu’s tone left no room for argument, and he was already preparing to take a step.

"Stop fighting."

A calm voice gently echoed in the minds of the three, yet it carried a weight that was enough to suppress all conflict.

It is Bai language.

From the moment the groom began toasting, he sat silently, like a detached bystander. His eyes were slightly closed, and his long eyelashes cast faint shadows on his pale face, isolating him from all the terror and noise of the outside world.

"Oh, what a touching scene. The captain leads from the front, and the team members are eager to die." Hei Yan's elegant yet mocking voice flowed slowly through the depths of his consciousness, like savoring a fine wine. "Like a flock of lambs driven to the brink, they use the scramble to be slaughtered first to demonstrate their laughable courage. Xiao Baiyu, don't you think this is a wonderful drama in itself?"

Bai Yu ignored its taunts. His mind was completely absorbed in analyzing the rules.

Groom, corpse, toast, must drink... These keywords spun, collided, and rearranged rapidly in his mind. He forced himself not to think about what was in that glass of wine, but to think about the "rule" implied by the act of "toasting".

“Black Words,” he asked calmly to himself, “why do you think it ‘offers a toast’ instead of simply ordering us to drink?”

"Hmm?" Black Words seemed quite interested in the question. After a moment of contemplation, it spoke in a persuasive tone, "'Command' is a superior-to-inferior gesture. But 'toasting' is equal, even... inferior-to-superior. In a place that values ​​'etiquette,' when the host toasts the guests, it's a 'gift,' but also a 'test.' It's testing whether the guests are 'qualified' to remain at the banquet."

qualifications……

It was as if a bolt of lightning struck Bai Yu's mind.

“This drink is not poison,” he said to everyone in the telepathic link, his voice clear and firm. “Or rather, it’s more than just poison. It’s more like a ‘key’.”

"The key?" An Mu stopped and looked at him in confusion.

“That’s right.” Bai Yu slowly stood up, standing shoulder to shoulder with An Mu. “From the moment we entered this village, we have been passively following the rules. Making way, watching the ceremony, taking our seats… we have always played the role of ‘guests.’ But we have always been outsiders. And this toast is an opportunity given to us by the hosts, an opportunity to go from ‘outsiders’ to ‘insiders.’ Drinking this cup of wine is equivalent to accepting the ‘contract’ of this wedding and acknowledging its ‘authenticity.’ Only in this way can we be qualified to touch the deeper core of this strange tale.”

"You mean, if we drink this wine, not only will we not die, but we'll also gain something?" Mo Fei asked incredulously.

“No, the risk of death still exists. Or rather, the risk of ‘assimilation’.” Bai Yu shook his head, his gaze piercing through the deathly silence of the courtyard, landing on the pale face of the corpse groom. “This cup of wine likely contains the ‘memories’ of this village, or rather, the ‘origin’ of this nightmare. Drinking it is like directly injecting these things into our minds. Those with weak wills will be instantly overwhelmed by that massive flow of information, completely lost, turning into puppets like those villagers. But if one can withstand it…”

Bai Yu paused, a hint of excitement in his voice that he himself was unaware of.

"Then we will know what exactly happened in this village."

This bold deduction left An Mu and the other two in silence. It was undoubtedly a high-stakes gamble, risking a teammate's spirit and even life for a chance to uncover the truth.

"I'll go." Bai Yu's voice rang out again, this time without any room for discussion.

“No, Baiyu!” Anmu refused decisively. “Your mental state is already unstable, and there are aftereffects from the last mission…”

“Captain, it is precisely because of my unstable mental state that I am the best candidate.” Bai Yu turned his head and calmly looked at An Mu, his eyes reflecting An Mu’s worried face.

“You’ve forgotten, there’s a ‘nightmare’ living inside me,” he said softly. “No one is more resistant to this kind of primal contamination than me. My soul is already a porcelain vase full of cracks. One more crack or one less crack makes little difference to me. But you are different. You are whole. Once you are contaminated, you can never come back.”

His words, spoken casually, pierced An Mu and Mo Fei's hearts like a sharp knife. They knew Bai Yu was referring to the cruel truth they had learned with their lives a year ago.

“Moreover,” Bai Yu’s lips curled into a self-deprecating smile, “I’m curious to see which is better, this ‘wine’ brewed from bones and flesh or the ‘artist’ inside me.”

An Mu looked at him, into those terrifyingly calm eyes, and knew he could no longer refuse. Bai Yu's reasoning was impeccable.

He wasn't trying to be a hero; he was using the most rational approach to choose the option with the highest success rate, at the cost of the option being the "cheapest" one for himself.

Finally, An Mu slowly nodded, squeezing out a few words through gritted teeth: "...Be careful." Bai Yu didn't speak again, only nodded slightly to him. Then, he turned around, alone, facing the hundreds of cold gazes, facing the silent invitation of the corpse groom, and walked step by step towards the main hall of the ancestral hall.

Every step he took felt like he was walking to the beat of fate. A blood-red carpet stretched out beneath his feet, like a red carpet leading to hell. The paper figures around him seemed to gain more life and anticipation in their smiles as he passed.

He walked to the front of the host's table.

Upon closer inspection, the corpse of the groom appeared even more eerie. His black tuxedo, though magnificent, carried a faint scent of earth and coffin. His handsome, pale face, under the dim green light, possessed a jade-like quality, yet remained cold and lifeless.

Bai Yu's gaze fell on the glass of wine in his hand.

The moment he stopped, the stiff arm holding the wine glass steadily offered it to him. The wine glass vanished into thin air the instant it left the groom's hand, only to reappear abruptly in front of Bai Yu the next second, silently floating in mid-air.

Bai Yu respectfully accepted the wine glass with both hands.

The cup was cold to the touch, heavy in texture, and neither gold nor jade. The liquid inside was a dark red, almost solidified, and as viscous as blood that had been sitting for days. A sweet, fishy smell, a mixture of rust, earth, and some unknown floral fragrance, wafted out.

Bai Yu looked at her pale face reflected in the glass, and without hesitation, brought the glass to her lips, tilted her head back slightly, and drank the viscous liquid in one gulp.

"boom--"

The moment the liquor entered his throat, there was no spiciness or foul odor as he had imagined. Instead, there was an extreme coldness, as if he had swallowed a piece of icy ice from the deepest abyss, instantly freezing his esophagus, his stomach, his blood, and even his soul.

Immediately afterwards, an indescribable torrent of information, mixed with countless fragmented images, piercing screams, desperate cries, and frantic prayers, crashed into his mind!
Bai Yu's body jolted violently, his eyes instantly losing focus, his pupils swallowed by a bottomless darkness.

His consciousness was forcibly ripped from his body and plunged into a ceaseless river of time made of blood and tears.

He "saw" it.

He saw a picturesque village nestled among mountains and clear waters, with wisps of smoke rising from chimneys and the sounds of chickens and dogs. A handsome young man in a blue cloth shirt stood under an ancient tree at the village entrance, clumsily weaving a small rabbit out of willow branches, a shy yet happy smile on his face. Opposite him, a young girl in a floral dress rested her chin on her hand, gazing at him with a beaming smile. Her face was shrouded in a soft halo, making it difficult to see clearly, but her bright, star-like eyes were filled with love and tenderness.

The scene changes.

A terrible plague suddenly broke out in the village. One by one, villagers fell, their skin covered in eerie black spots, dying in agonizing screams. The once peaceful and tranquil village had become a desolate hell on earth. The handsome young man knelt before the sickbed, tightly holding the girl's cold hand. Black spots had also appeared on the girl's face; she was on her deathbed, but her eyes still held a deep longing for the young man.

The screen shattered again.

Inside the shrine, a group of mysterious figures wearing wooden masks and black robes were performing a strange ritual around an ancient altar. They chanted ancient and difficult incantations in hoarse voices, like those of a night owl. Lying in the center of the altar was the body of the deceased girl. Kneeling beneath the altar was a young man with bloodshot eyes and a grief-stricken expression.

“As long as… as long as a ‘ghost marriage’ is held… and she marries the mountain god… then the mountain god’s anger will be appeased… and the village will be saved…” an elder wearing a ghost mask said to the young man in a hoarse voice.

"No...she's mine...no one can take her away from me!" the young man roared frantically.

"This is for the village! You have no choice!"

The scene suddenly changed.

A bizarre wedding is taking place. The ancestral hall is draped with red silk, yet white candles are lit. The young man, dressed in a bright red groom's robe, has eyes that are empty and lifeless. He watches as his beloved girl, in her wedding gown, is sacrificed and sent into a dark cave behind the ancestral hall.

The plague in the entire village miraculously disappeared the moment the girl was sent into the cave.

The villagers erupted in cheers of relief, kneeling on the ground and frantically bowing towards the cave in the back mountain, praising the "mountain god's" mercy and celebrating this "new life" bought with the life of a young girl.

No one paid any attention to the tearful groom kneeling at the entrance of the cave.

The final scene.

Late at night, the heartbroken young man, wearing his ever-present crimson tuxedo, walked alone into the ancestral hall. He gazed at the indistinct statue of the "Mountain God" enshrined within, his eyes filled with boundless hatred and madness.

"You stole my light... so I will plunge this village... into eternal darkness..."

He took out a dagger, but instead of stabbing the idol, he plunged it into his own heart.

He fell to the cold ground, his blood staining his wedding dress, yet a strange, satisfied smile played on his lips. With his death and his deepest resentment, he cast the most vicious curse upon the village he once loved but now hated.

He is the groom.

……

"puff--"

Bai Yu suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood, the blood dark and ominous, carrying an ominous aura. He knelt on one knee, his hands gripping the ground tightly, gasping for breath like a fish thrown ashore. The vast torrent of memories receded like the tide, leaving behind only a bone-chilling cold and a soul-rending agony.

"Bai language!"

Upon seeing this, An Mu and the other two disregarded everything else and rushed over to protect him, watching the still-sitting corpse of the groom with vigilance.

However, after Bai Yu drank the wine, the groom seemed to have completed his mission. His raised arm slowly lowered, and his stiff head drooped, returning him to his "sleeping" posture. The hundreds of paper guests around him also withdrew their gazes and transformed back into lifeless figures.

The immediate crisis seems to have been averted once again.

“I’m fine…” Bai Yu raised his head, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. His face was as pale as a sheet of paper, but his eyes were surprisingly bright. “I… know what happened in this village…”

He looked at the drooping corpse of the groom, then glanced at the huge portrait of the bride covered with a red veil in the main hall of the ancestral hall, and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"This wedding was never meant to be joyous. It was a revenge... built on the despair of the entire village and the groom's resentment."

(End of this chapter)