HTCYH Ch 9

Chapter 9: Marrying a “God”

That night passed without incident. Aside from being startled awake by a nightmare in the middle of the night, Tu Si had managed to get a fairly good rest.

At dawn, Tu Si opened the cocoon of tendrils, dressed up, and stood dazed for a moment staring at the protective charm hanging above the doorframe.

Walking out the door, Tu Si felt a brief moment of confusion—he didn’t actually know what he was supposed to do today. The bride’s past had more or less been made clear, and the absurdity and deceit in high-society households were nothing new to him. He had seen far too many stories like this before. Now, Tu Si found himself a bit helpless. He didn’t know what to do. Revenge? But what exactly counted as revenge? Killing everyone in the Chen family? Killing all those who had believed and spread the rumors? Or perhaps wiping out the entire village?

Tu Si’s thoughts drifted aimlessly as he wandered under the eaves. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he looked up and realized he had arrived at the room where the paper effigy bride had appeared.

He opened the door to find a massive white funeral wreath hanging on the main wall. At its center was the character “奠” (mourning), and the room was draped in white cloth—clearly not a space meant for the living. Meanwhile, the canopy bed to the north was hung with red curtains, covered in a mandarin duck wedding quilt. A dragon-phoenix candle was placed at the head of the bed, and a pair of red embroidered shoes rested at its foot. The contrast between wedding joy and funeral sorrow made the room feel disturbingly dissonant.

What was most chilling, however, was the paper effigy bride sitting on the bed. Her makeup was exquisite, her expression vivid and lifelike, and her beautiful eyes seemed to follow you no matter where you stood—always staring directly at you.

In her hands, she held a marriage contract. Beside her pillow lay the birth characters, betrothal letter, dowry list, and wedding invitation.

Tu Si picked up the marriage contract and read the identical inscription written on it:

Marriage Contract

Auspicious is today as this joyful union is sealed; a fine match thus formed, like the odes of lovebirds in harmony. May your descendants prosper for five generations; may blessings flourish as in the lands of the Two Souths. United in heart and virtue, harmonious in household and life, respectful as honored guests. May you share the joys of marital bliss, support each other sincerely, and pledge your bond as inseparable mandarin ducks.

This certifies: Chen Mingzhe and Sun Caiwei

“Paper effigies aren’t supposed to have eyes. If you draw them, spirits possess the body. But this bride’s eyes are so intricately painted!” Fang Xia’s voice suddenly rang out.

Tu Si turned around and saw Wuming and Fang Xia standing behind him. Narrowing his eyes into a smile, he greeted, “Good morning, Sister Fang Xia. Good morning, Captain Wuming. Thank you for the protective charm you gave me yesterday, Captain. It worked really well.”

Wuming nodded with a polite smile and replied, “You’re welcome. How did you sleep?”

Tu Si’s smile grew even brighter, his face lively and radiant, his tone a bit sweet as he answered, “I slept really well. Thanks to you, I had a night full of sweet dreams.”

Wuming chuckled lightly, then changed the subject. “Do you have any plans for today?”

This question carried layered meaning. Asking someone about their plans so suddenly could seem abrupt or even invasive, but also hinted at a probing invitation to team up. Fang Xia was momentarily taken aback, her gaze flickering between Wuming and Tu Si. She blinked a few times but said nothing, merely stepped back half a step to reduce her presence.

Tu Si, having grown fairly familiar with Wuming by now, had also formed some guesses about Wuming’s unexplained closeness. There was nothing inappropriate about teaming up for exploration, so he shook his head honestly and said, “I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve never really understood the concept of revenge. The game wants us to avenge the bride, but what really counts as revenge?”

At first glance, Tu Si’s words sounded like empty nonsense. The game asked you to avenge the bride, and he replied with: “I don’t know what counts as revenge.” It was like being asked on an exam what 1+1 equals, and responding, “I don’t know.” It came off as a bit dim-witted.

But Wuming didn’t mock him. Instead, he answered patiently, “Revenge? Actually, look around—this entire manor is empty. There are no living NPCs in the whole game. This place feels more like a memoir—a memoir of the bride. The so-called revenge may have already been carried out by the bride after becoming a vengeful spirit. What she’s left with is pain, unwillingness, and resentment. Perhaps ‘revenge’ really means release. The bride wants to be freed, but she’s trapped in an endless cycle of hatred, struggling in despair.”

Tu Si pondered for a moment and said, “I don’t think the ‘god’ who created this game would be so kind. It must have been this ‘god’ who deliberately trapped the bride in this prison of hatred.”

A glint of appreciation flashed in Wuming’s eyes. He couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle Tu Si’s hair. Both of them froze—Tu Si widened his eyes and looked at Wuming in confusion. Wuming pulled his hand back and rubbed his nose with an awkward laugh, quickly returning to the topic. “Mm, ‘god’ isn’t benevolent. But it also doesn’t have the power to control how players clear the game. So it uses items and forced plotlines to provoke the worst in human nature, manipulating people toward its desired outcomes. But according to our Bureau’s analysis, the core of this game is to slay the ‘god.’ The final boss in each game is a candidate for godhood. When guided by the ‘god,’ even the most basic desires can be pushed to extremes. Any living being could become an extreme version of ‘god.’”

Tu Si looked up in surprise, hesitated for a long time before finally managing to form his question: “So! The boss behind the game might actually be a player, right? A player who wants to become ‘god’!”

Wuming’s gaze toward Tu Si held a deeper layer of admiration as he replied, “Exactly. And now the entire direction of the game has changed—because of that pen. Now, it’s not just the bride who wants to become ‘god.’ Dong Hong does too.”

Tu Si didn’t panic at being exposed. Instead, he twirled a strand of his hair and asked playfully, “Become ‘god,’ huh? Then slaying a god is even more interesting. That pen has that much power? Just possessing it lets you fight a god candidate?”

Wuming didn’t answer. He simply stared dazedly at Tu Si’s golden hair and the fingers weaving through it. When Tu Si didn’t hear a reply, he turned and looked back at Wuming in confusion. The moment fell into an awkward silence, until Fang Xia, who had been silent all along, finally broke it: “There’s no real divide between ‘gods’ and players. It’s a relationship of mutual plunder. That beauty mole pen you used as bait is a concept item. Concept items are unbeatable within the rules. So if I say I’m god, then I am god.”

Tu Si nodded. “But that’s only if we ignore the cost, right? The beauty mole pen… marking a mole is the price. I don’t believe that pen is some unbeatable divine artifact.”

Fang Xia blinked, feigning mystery. “Exactly! Dong Hong isn’t stupid. He wants to trade the smallest cost for the greatest benefit. So… can you guess what he’s trying to do?”

Tu Si was truly stumped. He couldn’t for the life of him guess Dong Hong’s plan. His fingers absentmindedly twisted in his golden hair, tying countless knots, until they were hopelessly stuck.

Watching how those knots formed, Wuming couldn’t help but laugh. He stepped forward and began to untangle Tu Si’s hair, all while patiently explaining, “He wants to marry the ‘god.’”

“??? What? Use the mole pen to order the bride to marry him? How does that relate to becoming a ‘god’?” Tu Si was so shocked he didn’t even care about Wuming’s overly intimate gesture.

Wuming continued calmly, “Do you know what the meaning of marriage is?”

Tu Si paused, swallowing down the phrase ‘legalized mating.’ After organizing his thoughts, he answered, “A mutually binding contract? A social or legal relationship establishing kinship? Or perhaps proof of mutual affection?”

This time, it was Fang Xia who answered, her tone tinged with sarcasm. “Modern marriage is more like a business partnership—two people working together to build a better life. Some even gain wealth or status by marrying up. But in ancient times, marriage meant legal possession. You marry me, and from then on, you live and die as mine. Everything you own becomes mine—including divine power. Especially now, when there’s only one candidate for godhood—the bride. If Dong Hong marries her, he gets it all.”

Tu Si’s worldview nearly collapsed. His words came out jumbled: “Wait! Just straight-up make the candidate for god his wife and take her for himself? Isn’t the bride supposed to be the game’s final boss?! Just one item, and she gets handed off to some ugly fat man without resistance?!”

Fang Xia looked at Tu Si’s horrified expression and chuckled unkindly. “Oh, child! You’re still too young. She’s only a god candidate, and the one marrying her is a man!”

Wuming finally managed to free Tu Si’s fingers from the hair, but Tu Si was so consumed by thoughts of Dong Hong’s greedy plan that his blood pressure was spiking. He didn’t even register Wuming’s gesture, his fingers unconsciously playing with Wuming’s fingertips as he asked, “But! But marriage doesn’t automatically transfer the bride’s powers, right? Wouldn’t she rage and kill Dong Hong? Does Dong Hong have some kind of powerful protective charm?”

Watching Tu Si’s unconscious fidgeting, Wuming smiled more warmly. He didn’t pull his hand away, allowing Tu Si to toy with his fingers, while replying, “Don’t expect a lust-crazed idiot’s plan to be perfect. After all, how many ancient women dared to kill their husbands?”

Only then did Tu Si realize that Wuming and Fang Xia had probably come just to let him know that Dong Hong had taken the bait—albeit not quite in the way they expected.

His soaring blood pressure finally subsided. Out of habit, he raised a hand to bite off the knotted hair, but the moment he bit down, something felt wrong. His mouth was suddenly filled with the taste of nectar. Alarmed, he looked up to see Wuming watching him with a raised brow, and Fang Xia staring wide-eyed in shock.

Tu Si took a step back, looking at the elegant hand in his own, its long fingers now bearing a distinct bite mark on the index finger, from which thin red blood still welled. Tu Si hesitated for a moment but ultimately didn’t hold back—he rolled his tongue over the blood, then pulled out a clean handkerchief embroidered with dodder flowers and used it to wipe Wuming’s finger.

Wuming watched Tu Si’s movements and smiled wordlessly. When Tu Si tried to retrieve the handkerchief, Wuming spoke up, “Aren’t you going to bandage it for me?”

Looking at the wound that had already nearly healed, then at Wuming’s tilted head and serious expression, Tu Si couldn’t tell whether he was teasing or genuinely asking. But since it was his fault, he earnestly apologized, “Sorry. I got a little hot-headed just now and hurt you by accident. I don’t have any band-aids, but can I use this to wrap it?”

With that, he tore the handkerchief in two. Just as he was about to tear it thinner, Wuming made a request, “I want the side with the embroidery.”

Tu Si obediently complied, and while wrapping the wound, he left the embroidered side visible as decoration.

Admiring his expert bandaging skills, Tu Si nodded with satisfaction. Wuming stared at the dodder flower pattern, smiling with an unreadable expression. Fang Xia looked at the two of them, so dumbfounded her jaw nearly dislocated.