When he opened them again, he was dreaming. Dark clouds were gathering in the gray sky. The sun was about to set, and everything was bathed in an unreal, eerie light. Ying yue looked around; he was standing on a narrow path leading up the mountain.
Everything was strangely quiet, not a sound could be heard, even the wind rustling through the leaves remained silent. Behind him, a hazy, shapeless landscape spread out, in front of him rose the Hongshan. It was a barren, dry land. Here and there, hills rose up and in other places, steep cliffs led miles into the abyss. Scraggy trees and dead scrub stood in isolation. The further he advanced, the more the surroundings took shape.
The wild growth increased and the ground became noticeably steeper and steeper. The path twisted and turned around the trunks, some of which were several meters thick. Above him, a canopy of red cloth began to span across the path, and blue flames danced at the side of the road. It was a ghost path, leading him out of his dream and into the realm of the demonic woman. At that very moment, his spirit was about to leave his body.
He looked down and saw a faint green haze of smoke over his skin. Ying yue was sure he could make it back again. He took another step forward. Slowly, as if through a thick wall of cotton wool, the sounds reached him. The wind whistled and pulled and tugged at his clothes, which, to his surprise, were a deep red.
While everything around him was gray and black, the color of his clothes glowed. Rain whipped his face and it was hard for him to move forward, thunder rumbled overhead and made the earth tremble. He blinked a few times as some icy drops fell into his eyes. When he opened them again, a man stood before him. He was dressed strangely, with a multi-layered robe, the top one hanging only halfway over one shoulder, revealing a white chest with clearly visible muscles underneath.
His garments were flowing and colorful, pale pink and red, with white silk, a green skirt and black cloth; he was barefoot, but that didn't seem to bother him. When Ying yue looked up at him, his eyes narrowed. Only the lower half of his face was visible, the upper half was covered by the stranger's rabbit mask. His long, white hair fell unadorned over his shoulders. He wore neither a braid nor a ribbon nor a hair crown. Let alone a simple hairpin.
In his hands, he held a white rabbit, which he stroked, while his eyes, hidden under the mask, seemed to be directed at Ying yue.
»You're not the bride!« Ying yue said and his voice was lost in the storm. The stranger tilted his head. Suddenly, the storm receded and both seemed to be standing in a calm eye. Ying yue lowered his arms and took up a fighting stance. The man smiled.
»A fight isn't necessary, I was just curious!« he said. His voice sounded bright and melodic, unusual for a man of his stature. »My name is Tuér Shen. You may consider me the last remaining god in this world,« he said. Ying yue almost laughed out loud. But Tuér Shen forestalled him. »I know, it's hard to believe,« he laughed. »Well, back when the gods withdrew and closed all the gates, I was still quite young and naive. I thought it wouldn't be so bad and that I could follow later... wrong thinking. Now I'm stuck here in one of the last temples dedicated to me,« he sighed wistfully.
»I've never heard of you, a god with a rabbit mask,« Ying yue replied, thinking it was a bad joke. Was it a hallucination? Caused by the demonic bride? And if so, why hadn't the others affected mentioned it?
»I'm afraid that's because I wasn't really responsible for you,« the strange man said with a smile. ‚Every god has his own area of responsibility. I have nothing to do with cultists or sword fighters,' he said, pointing to himself and indicating that neither a sword for the fighters nor a scroll for scholars hung on him. Although his hip jingled with jewelry, it was all finely crafted jade pendants and gold chains. Ying yue raised an eyebrow.
»What has changed?« he asked skeptically. The man under the mask gave him a broad grin.
»I would love to chat with you about that, but I fear I'm running out of time. Mei ling will realize that I have crept into her dream. If you survive this adventure here, and I assume you will, we will meet in the real world and I will tell you which part of your life I am watching over,« he suggested. Before Ying yue could reply, the storm hit him, and when he opened his eyes again, he was standing in front of an abandoned, dilapidated temple.
The entrance gate was hanging off its hinges and the roof had seen better days. Ying yue looked around, but there was no sign of the strange man in the rabbit mask. He had leaped over the path and arrived at his destination immediately. The lair of the demonic bride. It was night and the round full moon was high in the sky. A cold breeze blew over the dry grass and the dilapidated ruin made noises like a living, breathing being.
He stood in the courtyard of the temple, he still recognized a row of old lanterns that lit up ghostly and the broken floor tiles that once adorned a magnificent picture. Ying yue took another step forward when suddenly a sinister, lopsided melody made him stop. With rattles and drums, a scarlet wedding procession with a magnificent palanquin wound its way up the path through the forest to the temple.
Ying yue steeled herself inwardly. The attendants were all deathly pale, with blood still on their robes, and some had trouble keeping their heads on their shoulders. They played a discordant music that screeched in the ears and drilled into the brain. When they reached the forecourt, they let down the sedan chair and stopped playing. They all looked at Ying yue rather pityingly, as if to express their condolences for what was about to happen. A sound of crying came from the palanquin, and the red curtain was drawn upwards, ghostly.
Inside, Ying yue saw nothing but darkness. A cold shiver of foreboding ran down his spine and he clutched the fabric of his robe tighter. He didn't have Xiaodan with him here. A delicate, red glow rose from the darkness of the sedan chair and steadily took shape, while long, thin, delicate fingers wrapped around the wood of the sedan chair. Too long fingers. With almost even longer, claw-shaped nails.
The bride rose gracefully and allowed herself to be helped out of the sedan chair by one of the bearers, before she slowly walked towards Ying yue. All the way she shook and cried and sniffed as if she were on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
The bride was pretty, even if the veil hid her face and made her arms look unnaturally long and lanky, she was a pretty bride. Her wedding robe shimmered slightly in the wind. You could even see the fine decorations, the jewelry clinked slightly with every step. She stopped in front of him and raised one of her hands. Her crying stopped, then she asked, »Are you my husband? Have you come to take me away?« Ying yue took a deep breath, everything in me was tense to the point of tearing.
»Yes!« he replied. The bride's fingers gently caressed his cheek.
»You... ARE lying!« she shrieked, grabbing his chin tighter. ‚YOU!' She paused and came very close to him. Did she smell something on him? ‚I... can't have you. You're already bound to another,' she said, surprised. ‚You... are already married!' she shrieked, slamming him face-first into the dirt.
»Why?«Ying yue had caught himself and was about to attack her when he stopped.
Had all demons gone mad? How could he possibly accept the fall and the unfortunate twist of his leg, which had inevitably led to him falling over and over again, as a legitimate wedding? Mei ling was raging wildly, the bridal procession seemed to have fled, probably they were only ghostly illusions created by Mei ling anyway.
Ying yue grabbed one of her wildly flailing arms and twisted it on its back before it could strike her. The demoness hissed as she went to the ground and he only caught her veil, tearing it from her face. Surprised, he stared into the pair of scarlet eyes. She was beautiful. Her pale, narrow face, her red lips and the delicate make-up that emphasized her large eyes.
The long dark hair cascading on her shoulders contrasted sharply with her dress. She broke free from his grip and spun around. For a moment, her collar slipped and Ying yue saw a thumb-sized black splinter lodged between her collarbone. He was right. Yingyue reached for the splinter, which was sticking out of her for a good ten centimeters, but she saw through him and pushed his hand aside. With a dancing, gracefully implied movement, she pushed her arms down and tried to get him in a stranglehold with her legs.
He rolled out of her attack and kicked in turn. Mei ling hissed angrily, even though his kick hadn't really hurt her, and dug her nails deep into his flesh. He only managed to wriggle out of her grip after several attempts and tried to keep her at a distance with kicks. But her unnaturally long arms broke through his defense and slashed him on the side of his neck with four long scratches. Ying yue felt the blood seep out of his wounds and the warm moisture soak his collar.
He had to drag her back to reality so that she could take him and his body and, in the best case, his sword, back here. He leaped at her, ducking under her arms and wrapping his arms around her hips. With all his strength, he lifted her surprisingly light body and slammed her to the uneven ground, before letting fly with a flurry of fists.
Mei ling shrieked in rage, her arms suddenly too long and flailing helplessly in the air. She couldn't defend herself against his blows. She hissed at him angrily, then one of her legs wrapped around his throat and bent it so far back that he thought she would break his back. He took a swing and used the leverage to throw himself out of her grip. After a quick succession of hand signals, the air glowed white gold, burning the bride's skin superficially.
Now she seemed to have had enough; since she apparently couldn't break his spirit, she decided to change the battle field. With a half-turn on the ground, she was back on her feet and stormed towards him. With her long fingers, she grabbed him by the throat and thundered him so hard to the ground that Ying yue felt it give way under him.
The sound of breaking stone and clinking glass filled the air. Everything was spinning. For a moment, he felt the bed behind him, the next, it burst asunder. Instinctively, he reached out for Xiaodan; the sword had rolled a few meters away from the bed. When it heard its master's call, it rolled back, directly into his outstretched hand.
With all his might, Ying yue raised his second arm and drew the sword right at the demoness' throat. Mei Ling screamed and took a step back. Blood ran from the wound on her neck, but that wouldn't kill her. Xiaodan glowed between them. Mei Ling's lips curved into a smile.
»I'll still take you, even if I can't have you!« she purred. Finally, involuntarily, he lowered the sword a little. Those were the words she spoke before she abducted the men. Although he resisted, he allowed her arms to embrace him and the fabric of her red dress to obscure his view.
He fell, but instead of hitting the ground, it felt as if he spun around once before the fabric disappeared and he was left alone. It was dark and cold, it smelled musty, rotten and damp. He stood there for a while, waiting, listening, but nothing happened. Ying yue swallowed, now he was in her territory, did she want to play with him? All right, he thought. Let's play: Find my bones.