Infinite Flow: Becoming a God in a Nightmare Game

A bright red veil descended from the sky, and a silk embroidered with twin lotus flowers covered the view. The last thing that came into view was the ghost bride's embroidered shoes adorned with pearls.

The view beneath the bridal veil was stained crimson with blood, and bloodstains from her palms meandered down the lines of the nuptial cup.

The groom stood with his back to Lin Wanchu, a silver needle faintly visible through the back of his wedding dress, its end gleaming with an eerie blue light.

"Worship the heavens and the earth-"

The sharp sound of the suona pierced her eardrums, and Lin Wanchu was startled to find herself bending over uncontrollably.

In the instant she was forced to bend over, she suddenly caught a glimpse of the sticky fluid seeping from the groom's boots.

Those weren't silk boots at all, but a thin layer of human skin, with faint black veins writhing inside.

A sudden metallic smell wafted from under the veil, and warm liquid dripped down her chin onto her clasped hands.

This was not a hallucination; she could clearly feel cold fingers crawling up her spine.

"Second worship high hall-"

As the second chant was sung, Lin Wanchu's neck creaked under the strain.

The veil was soaked in blood and became transparent. Through the scarlet veil, she could see countless figures emerging on the four walls of the coffin.

Men dressed in Republic-era long gowns were gathered around the operating table, tweezers holding yellowed photographs that flashed past their eyes—a young girl in Western-style clothes was curled up in an iron cage, with the number "731" tattooed on her chest.

"Husband and wife pay homage——"

Lin Wanchu was suddenly able to move.

She abruptly ripped off the veil, revealing a face painted with bright red lipstick.

The pearls on the ghost bride's phoenix crown rustled, and black blood was still dripping from the hem of her wedding dress.

But that face...

Lin Wanchu's pupils suddenly contracted as this face and the girl's face in the mirror began to overlap.

Her wedding dress was covered in seaweed, and her swollen fingers pressed against Lin Wanchu's throbbing temples: "Do you see that? I'm missing a piece of my skull."

Well water mixed with blood gushed from her seven orifices, soaking the embroidered pattern of mandarin ducks playing in the water on her chest.

The bride, who had hanged herself, suddenly let out a shrill scream, the rope leaving deep marks on the roof beam: "They poured arsenic down my throat!"

Her rotting throat vibrated with her screams, "You smell like Sister Yuping..."

Without warning, the ghost bride vanished into thin air.

The wine from the nuptial cup was spilled on Lin Wanchu's wrist, and her skin immediately felt a burning sting.

Tiny insect eggs floated in the wine, gleaming like pearls in the candlelight.

The groom suddenly convulsed, and the silver needles on the back of his neck were completely embedded in his body. Lin Wanchu finally saw it when he turned around.

The blood vessels bulged beneath his pale skin, and half a peach wood nail was stuck in his left eye socket, while his right eye was clear as a living person's.

A stitched, centipede-shaped scar was visible on his neck.

"Miss Lin." His throat made a gurgling sound as he spoke, like rusty gears turning, "Escape—"

Before he could finish speaking, the butler suddenly appeared between them.

The old man, who always squinted, now had bloodshot pupils, and his withered fingers held three silver needles, which he precisely pierced into a major acupoint on the back of the groom's neck.

The groom let out a beast-like roar, his knuckles growing an inch longer, his black fingernails plunging straight into Lin Wanchu's throat.

Lin Wanchu fell backward, and the back of her head accidentally hit the offering table.

The sandalwood memorial tablets crashed down with a series of cracks, and the one at the top, which read "The Spirit Tablet of Wang Fu Yanqing," split open.

The photo revealed in the interlayer shows Wang Yanqing in a white coat standing in a laboratory, with a baby covered in tumors soaking in a glass jar behind her.

Suddenly, a cold hand covered her mouth.

Wang Yanqing's rotting right hand was gripping Lin Wanchu's neck, while his intact left hand was pressing down hard on the dagger hidden in her sleeve.

His right eye was cloudy and bloodshot, and a line of bloody tears streamed down his left eye as he quickly drew something in Lin Wanchu's palm.

It consists of four characters.

Run away.

Kill me.

The crimson moonlight, like gauze and mist, quietly drifted over the diamond-shaped patterns on the carved window lattice.

The blue brick floor was covered with dark red, spiderweb-like patterns, like a cage embroidered with blood.

The gnarled branches of the century-old locust tree stretched out like ghostly claws under the moonlight, and dark red runes along the well rim meandered like tear stains. The heavy smell of rust, carried by the cold night wind, pierced straight into people's nostrils.

Lu Xue and Xu Cangsheng ran back and forth under the century-old locust tree, their foreheads covered with fine beads of sweat.

The once square courtyard house was now completely inaccessible.

They can only worry.

The wedding was originally scheduled for tomorrow night at 7 PM, but it has been moved to tonight at midnight.

Lu Xue leaned against the cracked tree bark, panting, the feeling of resin sticking to her fingertips sending shivers down her spine.

The moment that sweet, metallic taste exploded on her tongue, Xu Cangsheng suddenly grabbed her wrist.

"wrong……"

The compass needle spun wildly in the moonlight, its copper edge leaving red marks on my palm.

“This tree was still in the southwest corner yesterday.”

Xu Cangsheng's voice was strained.

As Lu Xue looked up, thousands upon thousands of faded paper money fell in a flurry, the red ropes tangling into a scarlet spiderweb.

The blood moon was hanging overhead, and just moments before it had clearly been fleeing eastward. Now, however, the shadows of the trees shrouded the two of them in darkness—the entire house seemed to be breathing.

Five minutes ago, Lu Xue and Xu Cangsheng tried to catch up with Lin Wanchu.

But when they reached the front door, the air suddenly solidified into a transparent wall, blocking their way.

No matter how much they called out or pounded on them, it was all in vain.

The moment the cough came from the west wing, Xu Cangsheng's protective amulet suddenly became hot, and the faint cough clearly came from...

"This way."

The two of them froze at the same time.

The young man leaned against the moon gate, his pale knuckles wrapped around the broken pocket watch chain, the gilded watch cover reflecting a strange, cold light in his palm.

Lu Zhiheng turned around, carrying Jiang Qi who was coughing up blood. His black robe swept across the bluestone bricks, and the talismans along the way retreated three inches as if they were alive.

Jiang Qi covered his mouth, his voice weak.

"Come with us if you want to live."

The two followed closely behind, and within a minute they had walked out of the He residence's gate.

A man dressed as a servant stood outside the door. When their eyes met, he seemed to have grasped a lifeline and rushed over, blurting out things in a panic.

"You're players too, right? Please help me—"

Under the blood-red moon, Xu Cangsheng's hands, gripping the compass, were drenched in cold sweat.

The pointer spun wildly in the midnight wind, finally pointing to the faded vermilion gate of the Prince's Mansion.

She glanced back at the four people behind her, and the bronze door knocker suddenly struck three times automatically.

"They're here." Xu Cangsheng's hand, gripping the peach wood sword, bulged with veins.

squeak-

A sweet, pungent mist billowed from the crack in the door, and the red silk hanging from the lintel instantly turned into a waterfall of blood.

Pairs of white lanterns lit up one after another, illuminating the stark white bones scattered on the ground.

The mansion gates were wide open, as if welcoming their arrival.

But the surrounding air was too quiet, so quiet it was unsettling.

Don't touch the threshold!

Xu Cangsheng sternly stopped the man who was about to step through the door, "This is the Yin-Yang realm. One wrong step and you're done..."

Before he could finish speaking, the blue brick floor suddenly cracked open in a spiderweb pattern.

The man's right leg looked as if it had been bitten by invisible sharp teeth, with layers of skin and flesh peeling away to reveal the white bone.

Amidst his piercing screams, more bloody hands emerged from the cracks in the ground, dragging him toward the abyss.

"Borrowing the power of heaven and earth!"

The moment Xu Cangsheng threw out the talisman, the Soul-Suppressing Nail in his hand had already driven into the crack in the ground.

Black blood splattered, and the arms emitted a mournful wail like that of an infant.

Just as everyone breathed a sigh of relief, the joyful suona suddenly blared.

"Go inside. Some things you just have to face."

As soon as she stepped across the threshold of the Prince's Mansion, the hairs on the back of Lu Xue's neck stood on end.

The locust tree in the center of the courtyard is a mirror image of the one in the He family mansion, with even the curvature of its branches being exactly the same.

As the saying goes, trees are the dwelling place of ghosts, and locust trees nurture ghosts.

This locust tree is over a hundred years old, I'm afraid...

For some reason, after only meeting He Yuelin once, Lu Xue became extremely concerned about her life and death.

The night wind swept through the treetops, causing the paper money to clink softly. In a daze, Xu Cangsheng heard a woman's heart-wrenching murmur:

"The auspicious time has not yet arrived... The auspicious time has not yet arrived..."