Chapter 187: Breaking the Pattern

Wei Yuan's consciousness sank into darkness, then he opened his eyes again.

He stared at the ceiling carving, trying to recall the face beneath the veil—but he couldn't remember anything; it was as if a blank had formed.

He squeezed the quilt—it was damp, his hands surely covered in blood again. The cleaver was gone; he felt around but found nothing. Then Wei Yuan suddenly noticed: on the table in the carving, a cleaver had appeared.

"Husband, you're awake."

At the sound of that voice, Wei Yuan immediately rose from the bed, moving swiftly—faster than before.

Before?

Wei Yuan pushed aside his faint confusion and hurried to the bride's side. Only then did he notice the embroidery on her crimson wedding robe—two divine beasts, but certainly not phoenixes.

Her hands were very pale, very slender. He had noticed them for a long time; now, in his subconscious, he felt he had a moment before she spoke again, so he took her hand, turned it over, palm up.

Her hand was pale, soft, and smooth; the flesh of her palm was plump and comforting to hold—he couldn't resist touching it once more.

"Husband, the hour is late; you should rest soon."

This line came too early…

Wei Yuan's consciousness was veiled in a thin gauze; one hand held hers, the other lifted the veil.

Xu Xu Wenwu.

Wei Yuan's vision went black.

—

"Husband, you're awake?"

The voice was still sweet, but Wei Yuan's heart was still as water; he leapt from the bed, passed the bride, and walked toward her back. As he brushed past her, he heard the line again.

"Husband, the hour is late…"

This time the bride spoke too fast—so fast it became a scream—but it was this very line that veiled Wei Yuan's consciousness.

He circled back to face her, glanced at her hands—and froze: her hands were gone. Beneath the sleeves, he could see the bloody stumps of her wrists.

Wei Yuan lifted the veil and saw a sweet little face, now twisted in pain.

Xu Yi.

Two streams of blood suddenly poured from her eyes!

Wei Yuan's vision went black; he lost consciousness.

—

Wei Yuan silently watched the carving: among the seven brides on the table, one had no head, another had no hands—only two severed wrists resting on the table, blood continuously spreading across its surface.

Wei Yuan felt slightly weak, as if he'd repeated the same act too many times—empty, tedious.

"Husband, you're awake?"

Wei Yuan waited for this line—he rolled off the bed and yanked the veil off the bride!

Yun Yun Feifei.

"Husband, the…"

Wei Yuan quickly dropped the veil, then lifted it again.

Cui Yu?

"…hour is late…"

Wei Yuan lowered it, then lifted it again.

Xiang Xiang Xiaoyu.

Wei Yuan lowered it, then lifted it again.

Xu Xu Waner.

"…of, you should rest…" The bride's voice had long since become a shriek—but still, Wei Yuan moved faster. He lifted the veil once more.

Sun Yu???

Sun Yu spat a jet of black smoke into Wei Yuan's face, plunging him into darkness.

Before his consciousness faded, Wei Yuan finally realized how terrifying his master uncle's poison was.

—

"Husband…"

Wei Yuan leapt up, instantly appearing before the bride—then froze.

The bride had three pairs of arms; six small hands gripped the veil tightly. Though each hand looked pale, thin, and tiny, Wei Yuan instinctively felt he could not tear the veil away from those six hands.

Wei Yuan snatched the bride's wedding robe and tore it with all his strength! The robe, surprisingly fragile, split into two pieces at once.

Beneath the robe, her body was pale and proportionate, skin smooth—but devoid of any distinguishing features. Like a painter had just laid the base coat, yet hadn't added details.

So that's it…

Wei Yuan did not lift the veil. Instead, he moved past the bride, trying to walk behind her. But at that moment, the bride spoke: "Husband, the hour is late…"

Wei Yuan reached out—the six small hands tightened their grip on the veil. But Wei Yuan did not lift it; instead, he pressed his palm over the veil, muffling her next words.

Wei Yuan suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He looked down: another pair of arms had grown from the bride's body, tiny and pale, holding a cleaver that had stabbed into his belly. The cleaver was covered in blood and chipped—notches matching the one on the table.

Careless… Wei Yuan's consciousness sank into darkness again.

—

Wei Yuan opened his eyes again.

He felt slightly weaker than before; if this continued, he would eventually exhaust his life and die in this strange place.

Yet his consciousness remained veiled, thoughts unclear—he couldn't calculate how many times he could awaken before his life ran out. Eight hundred? How many?

The ceiling carving showed no new changes, only more blood on the cleaver on the table; the bride holding it now had blood-stained hands, no longer pale. The bride with the severed wrists still rested her stumps on the table—the blood from her wrists had nearly covered half the table's surface.

Wei Yuan counted: besides the bride holding the cleaver, five brides still had intact hands.

"Husband…" The bride with six hands, seeing Wei Yuan suddenly appear, changed her line: "The hour is already late…"

Wei Yuan did not lift the veil or tear the robe—he touched each of the six small hands once.

"…you should rest soon." As the words left her lips, the bride reverted to two hands, sitting peacefully.

Wei Yuan lifted the veil: Xiang Xiang Xiaoyu. Before losing consciousness, he wondered: why did he come so late? Was it his fault—or mine?

—

Wei Yuan opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling carving—sure enough, now four brides had no hands; only severed wrists rested on the table, bleeding continuously.

Wei Yuan thought: perhaps today would bring a surprise—though he didn't know whether it would be his surprise, or the bride's.

He lay there thinking for a while before hearing the line: "Husband, you're awake."

Wei Yuan stepped before the bride with six hands—only one pair now gripped the veil; the other four arms were severed stumps, blood gushing out, staining the robe even redder.

Only one pair of hands—should be easy to lift… no, there's still another…

Wei Yuan did not immediately lift the veil. He waited patiently for her next line, touching her hands as he waited.

Finally, the bride completed her routine—and Wei Yuan lifted the veil.

Fen Hai???

What Wei Yuan received was not a surprise—but a shock.

—

Wei Yuan opened his eyes.

On the carving, six brides had lost their hands; only the last bride held the cleaver. Ghosts were carrying a tray toward the table—filled entirely with severed hands.

!.

"Husband, you're awake."

Wei Yuan stood before her, at a distance neither close nor far—just right for her to speak slowly, without screaming in panic.

The bride with six arms gripped the veil with two hands; the other four were severed stumps.

No hand holds the cleaver now…

Wei Yuan tore open her wedding robe—found no cleaver. The bride extended a fourth pair of severed arms, futilely stabbing at Wei Yuan, causing no harm—but he still could not find the cleaver.

Yet besides the blade, many other things could serve as weapons. This time, Wei Yuan had prepared plenty of surprises; the bride had only one pair of hands.

Wei Yuan tied the torn robe into a knot, then took off his own wedding robe and tied it the same way—now long enough. He swung it hard; the tied robes lashed out like a whip, wrapping around the candlestick and pulling it back.

Wei Yuan casually plucked the candle—and saw sharp spikes on the candlestick. This time, he did not pass behind the bride, so she did not scream.

Wei Yuan stared at the burning candle, feeling he'd missed something. Suddenly, he thrust his hand into the flame!

The flame surged—but was not hot. Within it pulsed a familiar energy. He reached in, groped—and grasped something, slowly pulling out a burning immortal sword.

The bride suddenly screamed: "…you should rest."

Wei Yuan lifted the veil—and yes, there was a surprise.

Tinghai Immortal Lord.

CRACK—the room plunged into darkness, not Wei Yuan's consciousness. Then it shattered into countless fragments.

Wei Yuan's surroundings had changed completely: the bridal chamber vanished, replaced by a desolate, twisted wasteland. He stood atop broken ruins; behind him rose a mound of earth—exactly where his bed had been, over and over.

Before Wei Yuan lay a humanoid body, skin pale, utterly featureless—its face blank. A massive gash split its torso, nearly cleaving it in two.

Several ghosts were clumsily lifting the body. When they saw Wei Yuan looking, they panicked, shrieked, and scattered.

Wei Yuan spotted another pile of pale bodies nearby—each one broken and mangled.

Wei Yuan looked down: his hand still gripped the burning immortal sword. Though the Sword Pseudo Sun was weak in power, here in this strange world, it burned with unusual strength. The gauze veiling his consciousness was being burned away by its flames.

From the darkness ahead, a slender figure emerged—a woman in a black-purple long gown, glaring at Wei Yuan with fury: "You bastard!"

"Disgusting!"

"Pervert!"

"Repulsive!"

Wei Yuan stood still, waiting until she finished cursing.

The woman hurled every filthy word at Wei Yuan, then calmed slightly and said, "You've passed my test—you now have the right to speak with me."

Wei Yuan asked, "Didn't you only appear to negotiate because you couldn't handle me?"

The woman gritted her teeth. "You'd be better off without that mouth of yours."

"I agree."

The woman's chest heaved violently, clearly on the verge of attacking—but after a few breaths, she suppressed her rage. Several ghostly figures brought over a chair.

The woman sat down gracefully and said, "This is the Youhan Realm. My name is Shi Meng. Your primordial spirit is here now, while your physical body remains in your original world. What you just experienced was the dream I constructed: Ghost Bride. In my domain, when you lift the bride's veil, the woman you see is the one you most deeply wish to spend your life with. Now do you understand why I cursed you? I've dealt with countless humans, but never one like you—each bride changes every round. Disgusting!"

Only then did Wei Yuan understand why he'd been cursed. After all, what lay beneath the veil wasn't merely oddities—it was horror.

Wei Yuan asked, "You just said the bride you show me is the person I most deeply wish to spend my life with?"

"Of course."

Wei Yuan said seriously, "I think you're lying."

Shi Meng nearly leapt up, knocking over her chair. She gritted her teeth. "I, Shi Meng, the great one—how many powerful One You Wu tremble at my name, begging their Ancestral Spirits to spare them from me! Do you think I'd lie to some tiny human with an undeveloped Dao foundation?!"

Wei Yuan said seriously, "I think you would."

Shi Meng nearly attacked again, but after thinking, she held back—clearly with great effort. She gritted her teeth. "I won't waste words with you! Now I'll speak of serious matters—listen well! Do you want to retaliate against the One You Wu who brought you here?"

Wei Yuan shook his head.

(End of Chapter)