Chapter 1

    Although the ice had melted, the ghostly hand remained strangely still. Mingzhe found the hand’s behavior intriguing—its demeanor resembled a mistreated wife, forlorn and seemingly disheartened from attempting to scare him any further.

    He poked the ghostly hand without a hint of fear, finding its reactions oddly endearing. Since it posed no real threat to him, why not keep it as a source of entertainment?

    The only disappointment was its inability to speak. It was just a foolish little hand.

    Temporarily ignoring the hand, Mingzhe turned his attention to the wooden effigy. He stroked his chin, contemplating how best to make use of it.

    Grasping the effigy with both hands, placing it in front of him, he tapped it lightly. Odd hollow sounds in some areas and solidity in others revealed an imbalance in its weight.

    Upon dismantling the effigy, he discovered it was filled with ominous items—human hair, talismans, and fragments of bloodstained red fabric. As he laid these objects out, the ghostly hand grew increasingly agitated.

    It was trembling and darting toward the scattered pieces of fabric on the bed, clutching them tightly. Despite being just a hand, its actions radiated a profound sadness that even Mingzhe could sense.

    The ghostly hand had struggled against the former Snow Deity countless times, but its current malice was insufficient to harm him in any way. Eventually, it gave up and fell quiet.

    Mingzhe nudged and stroked the hand. To him, it felt icy yet oddly pleasant to the touch. The hand, initially restless, seemed to resist his grip playfully, recoiling as though shy.

    “Well, Your Highness, I am your consort. What sort of behavior is this?”

    The ghostly hand: “...”

    Unbothered by its awkwardness, Mingzhe examined the items retrieved from the effigy. The hidden fabric, made of fine material, was clearly not something commoners—or even wealthy officials—could afford. Its origin was unmistakable.

    If the bloodstained fabric could be traced back to its owner, the hair and talismans likely had similar connections.

    Perhaps these items were part of the deathly marriage rites. Even with the wooden effigy as a stand-in for the groom, it wasn’t enough. It seemed that the bond between him and Shin Wang was deeply intertwined by the marriage ceremony itself.

    These cursed objects exuded a heavy, unsettling aura. No, it wasn’t just these objects, but even this place. The furnishings of the bridal chamber, while seemingly ornate, were arranged in ways that defied feng shui principles. The placement—wrong places and directions—mirrored the layout of a grand coffin.

    Even the most fortunate individual would find it suffocating to step foot into such a place.

    The Wang’s palace was nothing short of a vast soul-trapping stratagem. Whoever orchestrated or planned this wedding must have expended considerable effort on such details. Had it been the previous Mingzhe, even if he didn’t succumb to sheer terror from the ghostly hand, the oppressive atmosphere of this place would have driven him to despair, resorting to harming himself within three days.

    Mingzhe pondered for a while before deciding that, at the very least, he should explore his surroundings before settling in for the night.

    With that thought, he headed straight for the door.

    The number of servants in the Wang's palace was so sparse it was almost non-existent. If he hadn't misheard, the palace steward and the officiant had mentioned that servants were only present and working until the hour of Shen[1]. After the hour of You[2], the royal consort—himself—was strictly forbidden from leaving his chamber. This was not just a rule of the palace but one mandated across the region.

    After hearing that, Mingzhe almost laughed at the absurdity. Since when were homeowners forbidden from walking around their own residence? Yet, during the briefing, no one questioned these peculiar rules. Instead, they treated them as perfectly reasonable and hurried through the lengthy list, seemingly eager to leave the place as quickly as possible.

    The officiant had emphasized two additional rules: First, under no circumstances was he to enter the study of Shin Wang. Second, no matter what happened after the hour of Xu[3], he was forbidden from leaving the bed chamber, summoning servants, or even engaging with any servant he might encounter.

    Moreover, every day he was required to check the lamps located at four key inner courtyards. Under no circumstances were these lamps to be left unlit.

    Hmm… This sounds like the perfect setup for a ghost movie. For him, if he didn't act like the brainless protagonist in that ghost movie, those who gave him the caution would be very disappointed in him.

    Besides, if they went to such lengths to warn him, didn’t that make it all the more intriguing?

    The former Snow Deity sighed, pitying his new identity. Mingzhe, the poor attendant-turned-substitute bride, was thrust into a deathly marriage his mistress had fled. From every angle, this was a cursed affair—only the foolhardy wouldn’t be afraid.

    When he opened the chamber door, he was greeted by nothing but darkness and an eerie silence. Stepping outside, the night was desolate and bitterly cold, stinging his nose with its chill. The overpowering fragrance of Si Xuan flowers hung thick in the air, mingling with faint traces of incense smoke.

    Shin Wang’s palace at night was indistinguishable from a haunted ruin. There was no trace of life anywhere. With each step Mingzhe took, the echo of his own footsteps reverberated down the corridors, as though he weren’t walking alone.

    The bridal chamber’s location was peculiar, situated at the very heart of the palace. Just a short walk away lay a crossroads with four branching paths, all surrounded by dense clusters of Si Xuan flowers.

    Mingzhe surveyed the four directions leading to the four inner courtyards. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted faint lights in the distance, indicating the courtyards' locations. However, the overgrowth of weeds and unkempt shrubs revealed how long the palace had been abandoned. Lifting the hem of his bridal gown to avoid catching it on the branches, he resolved to visit all four of the inner courtyards before retiring.

    Disregarding the rule about not leaving the chamber after dark, Mingzhe ventured out with little care. The atmosphere might have been as spine-chilling as a graveyard, but he, the former Snow Deity, was far colder and more terrifying than any ghost.

    The officiant had tried to instill fear in this new bride with countless warnings, emphasizing the dread of breaking the two main rules. However, with his powers restored, Mingzhe found himself more amused than frightened. If any spirits dared to bother him, he’d simply send them fleeing in terror.

    But after just a few steps, the hem of Mingzhe’s gown was abruptly tugged by something.

    Looking down, he found it was his husband’s left hand that had secretly followed him. The ghostly hand clung tightly to the fabric of his bridal gown, seemingly trying to convey something. Mingzhe, however, was at a complete loss as to its meaning.

    The hand quivered in frustration before suddenly leaping upward, its target—his pale, slender neck.

    Mingzhe furrowed his brow. So, this spirit hadn’t given up on the idea of killing him.

    He raised his hand, palm open, and the air around him grew icy, frost forming in patches.

    But to his surprise, the ghostly hand wasn’t actually aiming for his neck as he had assumed. Just as an ice shard shot up from the ground, almost hitting it, the hand changed direction, veering past his tall figure and heading behind him instead.

    When Mingzhe turned to follow its trajectory, he was met with a chilling sight…

    A woman dressed in white, her clothing stained with blood until it was a vivid crimson, was creeping toward him from behind. Her body was grotesquely misshapen, moving on all fours like a beast. Her arms and legs were twisted into complete spirals, and her body was covered in slashes as if sliced apart by sharp blades. She moved with eerie silence, her hollow eyes were as if something had gouged them out, and her bruised lips mumbled incoherently.

    “No... this isn’t mine.”

    “...” Miss, what isn’t yours?

    Startled, Mingzhe watched as his husband’s left hand shot forward, striking the woman with an air of determination.

    While the attack looked powerful, its impact was far less impressive. The blow caused her to pause momentarily before she let out a shrill scream, violently yanking off her own arm and flinging the ghostly left hand aside.

    The former Snow Deity caught his husband’s hand in mid-air on reflex.

    He furrowed his brow. He lifted his hand and hurled an ice shard at the vengeful spirit.

    Instead of dissolving as expected, the ghost shrieked briefly before freeing herself from the ice shard. Still mumbling, she gripped her severed arm and reattached it with an unsettling ease. However, it didn't take long for her to go crazy and tore the arm off again, repeating the process in a frenzied loop until blood spattered the surroundings,

    Staining the Si Xuan flowers an even deeper red…

    “No... this isn’t mine. Give me back what’s mine!!”

    “...” Mingzhe wasted no time contemplating any nonsenses. With an expression of utter indifference, he turned, gathered his gown, and sprinted away.

    The ghostly hand slapped his arm as if mocking him. Just moments ago, he had boldly strolled without fear, yet here he was, fleeing for his life.

    But Mingzhe, ever generous, didn’t let it bother him. He ran with grace and skill, not a hint of panic on his face.

    “Husband, it’s late. Perhaps it’s time for us to go to bed?”

    If the ghostly hand could make a sound, it would surely be laughing uproariously, rolling on the ground in delight. Unfortunately, it couldn’t, so it resorted to gesturing wildly, as if to say:

    ‘Run, little rabbit. Run fast. So, now you’re scared, huh?!!’

    Pride couldn’t be eaten. Mingzhe was a brave person, the stronger his strength, the less fearful he was. But when you couldn’t win, running was nothing to be ashamed of.

    Staying alive—that’s what made you smart!

[1] This is the ancient Chinese timekeeping. "Hour of Shen" as the time period from 3:00 PM to 4:59 PM.

[2] "Hour of You" as the time period from 5:00 PM to 6:59 PM.

[3] The Hour of Xu corresponds to the time period from 7:00 PM to 8:59 PM.