Next, they found the Fire Master beside the theater on the western side of the inner courtyard. The theater had been abandoned for many years, its curtains hanging limply and in disrepair, with layers of dust accumulating both on stage and throughout the building. He sat motionless on a stool, gazing at the theater as if watching a grand performance taking place on an otherwise empty stage. Zhang Yuanqing’s face darkened; within his vision, the Fire Master was wrapped in thick gloom, his spirit barely clinging on—on the verge of departure and clearly close to death. He hurried over, placing his hand gently upon the Fire Master's shoulder, and as blackness surged beneath his eyes, he continuously drew in and absorbed the accumulating dampness, digesting it into his own essence. The Fire Master shivered, his hollow-eyed gaze regaining a faint spark of vitality, and instinctively began calling out: “Cold… so cold…” While still trembling, he scanned around, spotting Zhang Yuanqing beside him and Xiaolingxi not far away, and exclaimed: “Hey! Where did you two go? We were just in the main hall—then vanished without a trace!” “All of us have scattered,” Zhang Yuanqing interjected, cutting off his question, and asked, “How did you end up here?” "After we parted ways, I didn’t realize I’d walked all this way until I heard someone singing…," the Fire Master recalled. "I followed the sound to this theater and saw a woman performing on stage. I looked at her for just a moment—then suddenly remembered nothing." At this point, he shook with a fresh wave of fear, now seeing the well-worn theater far off—the woman who had been singing? Where was she? With heartfelt gratitude, he turned to the Night Wandering Deity beside him and asked, “Did you save me?” “This is obvious,” Zhang Yuanqing smiled. Relieved and breathing a deep sigh, the Fire Master felt a wave of apprehension return as he recalled what had happened: "My skills and props were completely useless against this spirit-being. Wang Tai—thank you so much!" Though each profession has its own strengths, the spirit-being’s ability to quietly control the Fire Master was largely due to the level of hierarchy. Such supernatural entities are elusive and unpredictable; when one's expertise doesn’t align with their specialty, dealing with them becomes particularly challenging. Yet they have a flaw—their methods of causing harm often lack clarity. They don’t compare in efficiency to simply stabbing someone with a blade. In the dusty dressing room beside the theater, the three of them found a golden hairpin. With this token of engagement now secured, the Fire Master felt at ease and asked: “Where are Xi Shi and the Heavenly Sovereign of the Sky?” Xiaolingxi shook her head: “We haven’t found them yet—hopefully they’ll be as lucky as you.” Turning to her, the Fire Master questioned with a touch of skepticism: "Do you really hope they’re dead?" Xiaolingxi looked pathetically humble and deeply distressed: "How could you say such a thing? We are companions after all!" The Fire Master paid no attention anymore—having previously clashed with her, he found her increasingly condescending in attitude, which had left him annoyed. Of course, it also wasn’t just that she wasn't on his experience points list; otherwise, the situation would have been different. Leaving this location, they proceeded to another wing of the mansion—the house turned out larger than expected, with its back courtyard divided into smaller courtyards used either as gardens or for hosting theaters. After walking a while, Zhang Yuanqing, who possessed night vision, spotted a figure approaching hurriedly from a distance. This person was dressed in bean-shoe pants and looked energetic—none other than the Heavenly Sovereign of the Sky. “Why are you all here?” he exclaimed as he drew near. Zhang Yuanqing observed him closely, noting how his gaze seemed steady, confirming that it was indeed the true essence of the Heavenly Sovereign. The four gathered to share their individual experiences. After dispersing, the Heavenly Sovereign had accidentally entered one of the courtyards and found a room lit with candlelight. Upon entering, he discovered the interior empty—only a neatly folded bridal quilt laid on the bed. He assumed it was part of the wedding gift, but following his inner instincts, he quietly withdrew without further comment. And then he encountered Zhang Yuanqing and the others. The Fire Master listened in astonishment: “Is the most reserved person actually the safest?” “Do you mean that? I’m being cautious—not timid at all,” defended the Heavenly Sovereign. There was truth to it—sometimes, those who survive aren’t necessarily the cleverest or most capable, but rather simply the most cautious… Zhang Yuanqing interrupted their pointlessly ongoing debate and turned to the Heavenly Sovereign, asking: “Where is the bridal quilt?” The Heavenly Sovereign gestured toward behind him. Under his guidance, they arrived at that courtyard and indeed found a room illuminated by candlelight. Noticing the team members’ growing hesitation, Zhang Yuanqing sighed and said: “I’ll go fetch it for you.” This was the Night Wandering Deity’s domain. He entered the room; as soon as he passed through the threshold, the square doorway automatically closed behind him. As Xiaolingxi and the others watched, at that very instant—the moment the door shut—Wang Tai’s form disappeared from view inside the room. The candlelight within dimmed but failed to cast any reflection of his silhouette. After anxiously waiting for several minutes, the square doorway suddenly gave a loud creak as it was violently pushed open, and Wang Tai emerged with a bridal quilt in his arms—looking somewhat disheveled, with clothing torn at several points and stained with blood. “Take it, Sovereign!” Zhang Yuanqing handed the quilt over to the Heavenly Sovereign who eagerly accepted it and held it tightly against his chest. Just as he was about to inquire about what had transpired inside the room, Zhang Yuanqing said: “We should move on—let’s go find Xi Shi.” Unwilling to ask any more questions, the Heavenly Sovereign followed the others in continuing their exploration within the inner courtyard. The night deepened steadily; no stars or moon visible, with only a single crimson lantern suspended from the eaves providing light, casting an intense red hue across the quiet and lifeless world. Occasionally, a gust of wind stirred, causing the lanterns to sway, making the scene even more eerie. “Come over here—I’m right here…” Suddenly, a gentle voice, smooth and tender, sounded from ahead. Zhang Yuanqing and his companions turned to see Xi Shi standing beneath the lantern at the eave, waving toward them. She stood there motionless—her body as rigid as a statue, her hands stiffly extended in a wave, and her smile equally unnatural, tinged with an unsettling quality. “Xi Shi!” The Heavenly Sovereign saw that she appeared unharmed and breathed a sigh of relief, just as he was about to move forward when his shoulder was gently pressed by the Fire Master. At the same time, Zhang Yuanqing’s voice reached them: “Look at her shoes.” Shoes? The Heavenly Sovereign gazed closely; his pupils slightly narrowed. She wore a pair of red embroidered shoes. She wasn’t Xi Shi! “Come over—come over…” Xi Shi continued waving, yet her smile remained stiff and strangely unnatural. “Pass her by—don’t pay attention!” Zhang Yuanqing said quietly. Noticing the serious expression on the Night Wandering Deity’s face, the Heavenly Sovereign quickly shifted his gaze away, now feeling slightly tense and hesitant not to look again. After walking a short distance, Zhang Yuanqing looked ahead and said: “Do you remember when Xi Shi entered the mansion, saying she saw a woman standing beneath the red lantern?” On hearing this, the Fire Master turned back, and upon glancing, he caught sight of that figure still standing there—no longer waving, simply observing them silently. “What a creepy sensation!” the Fire Master remarked, spitting out an exclamation. Xiaolingxi asked curiously: “Why did she transform into Xi Shi’s appearance?” Zhang Yuanqing looked off into the distance and sighed: “Just go and see for yourselves.” What did he mean? At first, the three didn’t understand—after walking a little further, they began to catch sight of a shadow hanging from beneath the eave. “Xi Shi!” Xiaolingxi gasped. That person was indeed Xi Shi—hanging lifeless from the eave, her delicate face distorted and suffocated, her eyes wide open with bloodshot veins, her complexion pale and wan, lips slightly protruding as if whispering. Her death had been silent and unexpected. Zhang Yuanqing, with his night vision, had observed this earlier and now moved through the moment of astonishment, guiding the three others gently toward the body. Xi Shi hung motionless; Zhang Yuanqing touched her hand—cool to the touch—and realized that she had died at least half an hour prior. “This is Xi Shi’s wedding invitation,” Xiaolingxi pointed out, indicating a red booklet lying beside the body. Zhang Yuanqing glanced at it briefly, then turned his gaze inward as blackness surged in his eyes, establishing connection with the lingering spirit within her. He needed to verify whether she had died due to the spirit-being or for some other reason. A surge of memories suddenly flooded into him—Xi Shi was a Level 2 Water Spirit, a journeyer from Nanhang City, Jiangxi Province—a non-official member of a local spiritual practitioners’ organization. Her actual profession was a nurse and she maintained relationships with several male colleagues including department heads, wealthy businessmen, and managers within the spiritual organization. A staunch non-marrier who did not believe in romance—viewing men merely as resources. She was an accomplished socialite. At the very end of her memory stream, Zhang Yuanqing saw a figure dressed in wedding garments emerge—then the scene abruptly ended. Was she murdered by the Ghost Bride? Zhang Yuanqing blinked, stunned and chilled to the core. How could this be possible—the ghost bride had been waiting for a suitable husband after all! If the ghost bride could act at any time, how would that even be an element of surprise? Moreover, if the ghost bride had personally chosen someone to kill—why only Xi Shi, and not anyone else in their group? Or was she simply yet to act? At this moment, he heard Xiaolingxi and the Heavenly Sovereign discussing: “Why was her gender information crossed out?” “I don’t know—perhaps it would be erased after death?” Zhang Yuanqing paused, then said immediately: “Show me.” Xiaolingxi handed over the invitation. On close inspection, Zhang Yuanqing saw that the “gender” section had been neatly drawn through in deep ink. Xiaolingxi’s eyes brightened as she asked: “Wang Tai Brother—what did you see inside Xi Shi's spirit?” Both the Heavenly Sovereign and the Fire Master looked toward him with interest. “She was killed by the Ghost Bride!” “What?!” All three turned pale, alerting themselves to their surroundings. If the ghost bride had acted at all, it seemed unlikely that only one person would survive—especially given this was an S-tier mission, even if challenging, which should have provided them with a chance of survival. “I have a thought—but there’s still a gap in logic,” Zhang Yuanqing mused, turning to Xiaolingxi—the one who looked like a graceful deer—“Would you let me take a look at your own wedding invitation?” “Oh!” She responded promptly, withdrawing the invitation from her waistband and handing it over. Zhang Yuanqing opened it carefully, his expression puzzled: “Gender listed as male?” Both the Heavenly Sovereign and the Fire Master leaned in to read—it was indeed written as "male." The Heavenly Sovereign expressed surprise: “You looked so poised and refined—didn’t expect you’d be a man of such a strong personality!” “What’s that, then?” Xiaolingxi blushed, explaining: “I thought the Ghost Bride was looking for a husband—that meant a man. If I listed myself as female, wouldn’t that make me ineligible? Wouldn’t that result in immediate elimination?” Both the Heavenly Sovereign and the Fire Master pondered this idea deeply. Since Xiaolingxi had entered her gender as male—then his initial hypothesis was confirmed: under the old version of the rules, women were guaranteed to pass; under the new system, female candidates would be eliminated outright—especially since this mission was an S-tier journey, where a direct win was expected. Thus, Xi Shi had been eliminated precisely because she failed to meet the criteria of being the designated bride. After explaining his reasoning in detail, Xiaolingxi looked down with regret: “I only thought it possible—I wasn’t certain—so I never mentioned it. If I’d known earlier, I would have reminded Xi Shi.” Exactly what they all silently agreed upon. Now, their group had dwindled to just four members—the ghost bride could still claim one more life at most—thankfully, that was acceptable. Thinking of the shared connection between them, Zhang Yuanqing gently disengaged Xi Shi’s body and placed it gently on the ground before turning to his remaining companions: “We don’t have much time—we should go find the wedding chamber.” Though he hadn’t counted precisely, they could estimate from their arrival that it had now been close to one hour since entering the mansion. Xiaolingxi, the Fire Master, and the Heavenly Sovereign quickly set aside Xi Shi’s story, mentally preparing themselves for what lay ahead. With each of them holding a token of engagement, the four continued forward into the mansion, moving silently through different gardens, with only the crimson lanterns accompanying them throughout their journey. After a long time, as they still hadn’t found the wedding chamber, they suddenly saw it emerge—standing at the entrance, its eaves arched gracefully, windows adorned with festive couplets, and soft candlelight pouring out from within. A red carpet stretched across the path leading to the main hall. “Once the time arrives,” Zhang Yuanqing said quietly, observing their tense expressions, “the wedding chamber will appear.” He added: “Let’s go then.” He had originally intended to lighten the mood with a witty remark—don’t be so anxious, after all—the Ghost Bride might just be an elegant woman with ample chest and hips. But seeing the serious expressions of his three companions—like those preparing to face execution—Zhang Yuanqing wisely abandoned his idea of lifting the atmosphere. So far, they still didn’t know how the ghost bride chose her husband: would it be one out of four, or all four? Similarly, they had no idea whether they themselves could survive at all. As they entered the courtyard and walked along the red carpet, Zhang Yuanqing stopped in front of the door, took a deep breath, and firmly pushed open the latticework gate. “Clang!” The two latticework doors swung wide inward as Zhang Yuanqing stepped over the threshold, tensing every muscle in his body, then scanned the room’s layout. The entire space was adorned in festive red—the walls displayed red couplets, and a round table stood in the hall, with two candle holders on either side. The candles, each about half an arm's length long, flickered gently, their flames casting soft light over several ceramic dishes filled with lotus seed and peanuts. To the east lay a large bed, its bedding and drapes dressed in vibrant red—yet no quilts or blankets were laid. The bedside was empty, with no vision of a bride dressed in her wedding gown, covered by a red veil as expected. The ghost bride wasn’t here… Zhang Yuanqing’s taut nerves gradually relaxed, and he exhaled deeply. As he turned to speak to his teammates behind him, he realized that the entire bridal chamber had been left empty—only himself remained. His three companions were gone too. “Only I’ve entered the bridal chamber?” Zhang Yuanqing was suddenly struck by this realization, then murmured, “What a clever ghost bride! She’s even assigned a separate room to each of us.” The current situation aligned perfectly with his earlier second hypothesis: four wedding gifts corresponded to four future grooms; the others would all perish. “Now we simply have to wait for the bride’s arrival—only unknown is which one she will choose.” Zhang Yuanqing closed the door behind him and silently summoned person_name, placing it gently atop his head, readying himself for what was to come. He touched the baby spirit's forehead, gazing at the joyful ambiance of the room, and suddenly recalled a humorous internet anecdote: “What a peak moment for the ghost bride! Just married with both husband and child—she’s truly reached the pinnacle of her life!” And the son wasn’t even black-skinned. The candlelight shimmered brilliantly, illuminating every corner of the room, yet Zhang Yuanqing had hoped to sense the passage of time through the gradual burning of the candles. Unbeknownst to him, the candles exhibited an extraordinary quality—no matter how long they burned, they showed no signs of dimming or consumption. It was unclear how much time passed when suddenly, the door “clang” opened again under a gust of wind from the outside, and the candles instantly went out. The cold wind roared through every corner of the room. The entire chamber plunged into darkness. Zhang Yuanqing felt his heart leap—above him, the infant spirit trembled violently, trembling with intense fear, as if facing the final days of existence. He stiffened, turning his head slowly to gaze at the open doorway. Outside, the night was pitch black; though possessing night vision, he faintly discerned a figure in a wedding gown, draped in a red cloth, stepping along the red carpet toward the bridal chamber.