Hearing the piercing sound of the suona, watching Yuan Shi Tian Zun place the bride's veil upon the newlyweds' heads, the Lingjing Xingzhe present felt an inexplicable strangeness. On one hand, they couldn't tell whether the key element of his performance lay in the red veil or in the music playing from the device in his waistband. On the other, the image of a young man, the red veil, and the festive atmosphere—this was simply too odd. The speaker system, truly, kept interrupting every moment with music, stealing all the spotlight from me... Zhang Yuanqing, wearing the red veil, murmured his discontent. "Experience what it's like to be the groom?" With his domineering amber vertical pupils reflecting the vivid, poignant red, he offered a strangely sarcastic remark: "So you wanted to be my bride? That won't do. I'm not interested in men." Zhang Yuanqing paid no attention, steadied his mind, and quietly sensed the surroundings, waiting for the ghost bride to appear. When his sarcastic comment went unheeded, his gaze flickered briefly, and suddenly he stepped through the cracked floor tiles, launching an unceremonious assault. He didn't know what this young man's tactics were, but any risk had to be extinguished early—giving the enemy time was equivalent to putting himself in danger. "Buzzzz…" Suddenly, amid the high-pitched suona music, there was a crackling of static, as if the signal had been disrupted. It had arrived. Zhang Yuanqing sensed a vast, surging flow of yin qi rising from the void behind him, causing his spine hairs to stand on end, yet he dared not turn around. This feeling was so familiar—he had experienced it exactly the same way when the ghost bride made her entrance at Jinshui Water Park, the experience being utterly identical. The powerful yin qi enveloped the villa, and the official xingzhe present felt their souls trembling. What had he summoned? In his unobstructed view, he saw thick, dark mist rising mysteriously from behind the official night traveler, bringing with it a sense of chill, strangeness, and fear. Glimpsing through the mist, a ghostly figure in a vibrant red bridal gown appeared behind the night traveler. Crunch… The sharp sound of his feet scraping against the ground signaled a sudden brake, as he forced himself to stop. A profound, indescribable fear erupted within him. A terrible spirit, a powerful spirit, an unyielding spirit—his senses registered the overwhelming pressure of a high-level yin entity. Following instinct, without hesitation, he turned and fled. He was a witch-guisher, not a stage magician, lacking the means to counter spiritual beings. And certainly not one of this high rank. As he charged toward the main gate, he paused mid-step—only to find the gate gone, replaced by a dense, dark shroud of yin mist. Within the mist, a ghostly figure dressed in a red wedding gown emerged and faded, intermittently visible. This… His scalp tingled with shock. He reversed direction and sprinted toward the stairs. But thick yin mist surged upward along the stairwell. As the mist swirled, a pair of slender, red-embroidered shoes moved steadily down the stairs—one by one. Despair surged in his eyes. He—what is he doing? To the official attendants, his unrelenting movements seemed like a fit of madness, as he would charge toward the main doors, then the windows, then the staircases, only to recoil in terror, his grotesque, insect-like face contorted with fear, his amber pupils trembling with anxiety. Tang Guoqiang shivered violently; his limbs growing weak, he desperately pushed himself away from Zhang Yuancheng, scrambling as if fleeing for his life. Ghostly wall-walking? Zhang Yuancheng slightly raised his head, using his limited field of vision to observe the man’s frenzied behavior, instantly concluding that the ghost bride had employed a spell. While thinking of seizing the opportunity to strike a decisive blow, to give the unrelenting man a chance to breathe, he suddenly found himself unable to move. "What's going on? The notes didn't mention that the red veil would restrict mobility..." Zhang Yuancheng was both startled and puzzled, then felt something pressing against his back—like a block of ice, yet unusually soft. A powerful阴 qi surged forth, rushing into his body and merging with the Taiyin energy already within him. The sleepy, clumsy youngster awoke, curling up and shivering, completely unaware of what had happened—by the time he stirred, he felt as though he were plunged into an immense peril. Eventually, Zhang Yuanqing found he could move. He took slow, steady steps, advancing toward the one who had been dominating the scene. Yet, this movement was not under his control. It was the ghost bride who guided his body. Guan Ya, Qingteng, Bai Long, Li Dongze—everyone's gaze shifted from the dominant figure to the slowly advancing Zhang Yuanqing. For a brief moment, it seemed as though they saw a solemn, ghostly figure pressed tightly against Yuan Shi's back, clad in a red bridal gown. The sight filled them with genuine fear. As Zhang Yuanqing approached the one who had been dominating, his gaze, peering through the edge of the red veil, caught a pair of pale, delicate hands extending from the figure, grasping his own. The bone-cold qi converged at his palm. Zhang Yuanqing watched helplessly as his skin turned青black, his arm muscles swelling, veins dark as ink winding around like ropes. His five fingers extended, sharp and blackened. The pale, delicate hand guided this spectral hand, pressing firmly onto the neck that had been rampant and unyielding. ... A dense, gloomy mist enveloped him, ghostly figures in red bridal gowns appearing all around, moving with restless urgency, gazing wildly in every direction. He wanted to flee, yet found no escape—ghosts stood at every path. His heart pounded violently, adrenaline surging, yet instead of courage, it brought only profound fear. His fierce spirit, his impatience, his sharpness, his decisiveness—all vanished, leaving only fear and trembling. He sensed that something had affected him, but what was devastating was knowing this was abnormal, yet being utterly unable to change it. At that moment, ghost shadows from all around simultaneously reached out. Beneath the vibrant, elegant bridal gown, the hands were strong and dark green, veined and robust. Hengxing Wujie, with nowhere to retreat, watched helplessly as the ghost hands tightened around his throat. Instantly, a cool,阴ly aura seeped into his body, spreading rapidly, and his vitality swiftly faded away. ... Zhang Yuanqing watched Hengxing Wujie, crushed beneath his ghost claws. The brilliance in his vertical pupils gradually dimmed, until it finally faded. Within the towering, grotesque form, the soul shattered and dispersed rapidly. Hmph. He was dead... Zhang Yuanqing exhaled in relief. At last, he was certain the battle was over, and no further surprises would arise. No. Not quite. There was still a creature with a human head and a serpent's body. As this thought formed in his mind, the ghost bride guided him to turn and move toward the great serpent. In the next instant, the serpent's fierce eyes flickered between涣散 and fierce, its soft body twisting and writhing with restlessness and weakness. He too had fallen into the spell. Zhang Yuanqing, following his method precisely, squeezed the great serpent's neck, severing its life. Yet Zhang Yuanqing noticed that his own actions did not cease, nor did the ghost bride withdraw—instead, she guided him to turn, facing the official pilgrims. The official pilgrims, who had just begun to feel joyful, suddenly grew alarmed. Zhang Yuanqing observed the delicate, pale hands lifting his arms, which subtly shifted a few times, hesitating between the white dragon, the green vine, and Guan Ya. A few seconds later, it seemed she had made a decision, guiding Zhang Yuanqing step by step toward Guan Ya. "Yuan, Yuan Shi?" the elder scribe's face turned pale, and she nervously retreated. Was she about to kill Guan Ya? No—stop, stop! Zhang Yuanqing grew increasingly anxious, yet his body remained utterly unresponsive. The ghost bride must have a time limit, but there was no indication in the props—Zhang Yuanqing had no idea how long she would remain, and when her time expired, Guan Ya would surely be cold and lifeless. As Guan Ya drew closer, Zhang Yuanqing's thoughts raced, and suddenly he came up with a plan—transferring the burden of "control" to his internal little comic relief. Inside his body, the little comic relief finally couldn't bear the pressure and burst into tears. With this, Zhang Yuanqing gained brief mobility and immediately lifted his left hand, pulling away the prop covering his head. The powerful negative qi swiftly retreated into the void, and the ghost bride, helpless, returned to her spiritual realm. At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing was only five or six steps away from Guan Ya. He sat down heavily on the ground, breathing heavily, as the sense of fatigue surged back. Guan Ya's white shirt was soaked with sweat, her hair damp and clinging to her cheeks, her chest rising and falling steadily. Feeling the terrifying negative qi dissipating, the official travelers exhaled in unison, filled with both relief and joy, thinking how truly exceptional she was—having already demonstrated such outstanding performance even in her early stages, having successfully passed two consecutive S-tier night-wandering deities. A wood spirit trembled as it pulled out pills from its tactical pack, saying, "Take the detox pills quickly. They won't eliminate the toxin, but they'll ease your symptoms." "Can you make it all the way here?" "I... I can't move." Captain Qingteng furrowed her brows, saying, "Who else can move? First, gather the equipment from upstairs. Right now we're just coughing and experiencing paralysis, but things might take a turn for the worse—by now, we might be dead." The strong muscle giant staggered to his feet, intending to go upstairs, but after taking a few steps, he collapsed from weakness and lost consciousness due to excessive blood loss. Seeing this, Zhang Yuanqing rose to support his weary body, saying, "I'll go." The white dragon exhaled in relief, and with a weak smile added, "You're truly a dependable boy—no, a man." If only you'd arrived a few seconds earlier, the ghost bride would have had no patience for you... Zhang Yuanqing thought to himself. Li Dongze, the behind-the-scenes commander, suggested, "It should be the second or third room from the entrance on the second floor. He's been fighting there consistently, so he's likely still guarding the props." Zhang Yuanqing nodded and staggered up the stairs. ... Lingjun's gaze swept over the several chrysalis beasts that had perished, and he smiled, saying, "It seems we're no longer needed. Master Jian, your team leaders have excellent combat prowess." Fu Qingyang glanced at Guan Ya, who was unharmed, and then at the others, a slight relaxation appearing on his otherwise stern face.