Chapter 54: The Devil’s Sacrifice (04)
Looking at the string of death-trap questions, Yu Jiao was taken aback.
She had no memory of the original owner, and besides, this was only the first day of the game… And that last question was too strange, a cold sense of foreboding rising within her.
Yu Jiao quickly calmed down and pointed out the key issue. “Do I have to answer now?”
【You can answer at any time.】
The system paused for two seconds, then added:
【Answer correctly to receive a mysterious grand prize.】
The cold, electronic voice had a dark, ghostly quality.
【You will need it.】
“Little sister-in-law?” a magnetic voice called out softly.
Yu Jiao came back to her senses.
Those deep violet eyes were fixed on her.
—Nie Hongshen’s outstretched hand was still hanging in the air.
Yu Jiao gave an apologetic smile and took it.
His broad hand enveloped hers, a perfect fit, creating a sense of being sealed in. Like a warm cage. Through the thin gloves, a dull warmth was transmitted, and then, the dark, bitter scent of wormwood from him also wrapped around her.
Yu Jiao frowned slightly.
To say this person was tactful… but according to handshake etiquette, whether between a man and a woman or a host and a guest, she should have been the one to extend her hand first. His action was quite abrupt, and he had taken her whole hand.
But to say he was tactless… he had let go after a single touch, without any transgression, and the smile on his face was flawless.
Like a humble, friendly, and enthusiastic, yet polite, brother-in-law.
—Though she, the sister-in-law, was nearly ten years younger than the couple.
Compared to the vibrant, twenty-something Yuan Cang, and Helan Duo, whose age could not be categorized by worldly standards.
Nie Hongshen looked to be about thirty-five, but he did not seem old or tired at all. Instead, he was like a fine wine, aged to perfection. Every move, every word, exuded a rich, mellow fragrance.
Nie Hongshen curved his violet eyes. “Little sister-in-law, I’ve never had the chance to wish you a happy marriage.”
Yu Bingci, who was standing to the side with her arms crossed, let out a soft sneer.
“Now you can offer your congratulations on her new widowhood.”
After her quick retort, Yu Bingci pressed her lips together, a belated sense of regret. She glanced at Yu Jiao and said quickly, “No offense to you.”
I understand. You’re targeting Yu Fenghe and Nie Hongshen.
Good for you. Say a few more words.
Yu Jiao smiled and shook her head, to show that she didn’t mind her verbal offense.
A glint flashed in the eyes behind the black veil.
It seems the rumors are true. Yu Bingci and her brother have a bad relationship.
Not only that…
Yu Jiao subtly glanced at the slightly distant body language of the couple.
—Their marital relationship is also just so-so.
Nie Hongshen didn’t seem to mind his wife’s sarcasm. He smiled good-naturedly and was still staring at Yu Jiao. “Little sister-in-law, I’ve prepared a wedding gift for you.”
He paused and chuckled. “If you want to consider it a widow’s gift—”
“The memorial service is about to begin.”
A gentle, mellow voice came from behind them, nonchalantly interrupting the conversation.
Yu Jiao turned her head.
There, Helan Duo was standing a few steps away with his hands behind his back. His long hair was tied up high, and he was wearing a uniquely and intricately tailored white cult robe. He stood tall and jade-like, his pale green eyes like jade, looking over with a cool, clear gaze.
It was unclear if it was because of the change of clothes, but his aura was holy and compassionate, without the approachability he had had in his white coat. His exquisitely handsome face was expressionless, which only made him seem more distant.
Like the white gauze on the altar.
Helan Duo gave a slight nod to Yu Bingci and Nie Hongshen, then said to Yu Jiao, “Madam, please come over for the purification. The ceremony is about to begin.”
“Alright.”
“…”
Yu Bingci watched the woman’s graceful figure walk away. Her eyes shifted, and she looked down coldly at her composed husband, who was propping his chin on his hand.
“Don’t touch her.”
***
“Stay away from him.”
Helan Duo looked straight ahead and walked towards the maid who was holding a tray. “If you don’t want to die,” he said coolly.
“…”
Yu Jiao tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. She could only see his superior profile and the Adam’s apple that was hidden in his overlapping collar.
Her gaze moved down.
He was still wearing that ID tag, but the words on it had changed to:
Apocalypse Cult
Name: Helan Duo
Position: Priest
Yu Jiao vaguely remembered that ‘priest’ meant ‘priest’.
Not to mention. This guy’s riddle-like demeanor is really quite mysterious.
A few minutes later.
…When Helan Duo picked up the incense and the bell on the tray and began to circle Yu Jiao, the feeling of a charlatan grew even stronger.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
It was unclear when, but the vast altar had become extremely quiet. Only the sound of the jingling bell echoed.
The guests and the followers were standing in a neat circle around the huge black coffin, their heads bowed, silent.
Through his flying robes and hair, Yu Jiao caught a glimpse of Yuan Cang.
He was yawning as he arrived late. As he breathed, his tight black clothes outlined his vigorous, muscular body. His white cult robe was loosely tied, lax and casual, which made him stand out among the group of serious-looking people.
A round, mechanical lantern was suspended behind him, like a sheepdog, urging the ‘rebellious little lamb’ to its proper place.
“It’s done.”
Helan Duo put away the purification tools.
Then, he took a small, round object from the tray and handed it to her.
His pale green eyes were lowered, looking at her without joy or sorrow. His two long, jade-like fingers held the equally green little thing and, with a release, it fell into Yu Jiao’s palm.
…A seed?
Yu Jiao held the seed and looked up at him.
—Before, no matter how she had tried to find out, she couldn’t get any information about what she was supposed to do in this memorial service.
She was uneasy.
Helan Duo had no intention of explaining.
Just then, the last maid came with a tray. Before she had even gotten close, a foul smell preceded her.
The sense of foreboding grew stronger.
There, Helan Duo picked up a golden bowl from the tray. Inside was a bowl of rippling blood.
He turned around, his eyes on her, signaling her to follow.
As he turned, his jade-like fingers dipped into the golden bowl and then flicked out. The bright red blood was sprinkled up, drawing a graceful arc.
It landed on the pure white floor, a few scattered drops.
Drip.
Like a signal.
The several thousand followers all knelt on the ground, their bodies hunched in prayer. A low, ethereal hymn echoed.
As he sprinkled the blood, Helan Duo walked towards the coffin in the center. His back was straight, his posture elegant, the movements of his arm rhythmic.
Yu Jiao held the seed and, stepping over the bloodstains, followed him.
She carefully noticed that the cult robes of the followers who were kneeling on both sides of this path were much more ornate and complex. The moment they were splashed with blood, they would show an expression of grateful ecstasy.
The blood red and the pure white clashed, creating a strange divinity.
Soon, they reached the end.
Yuan Cang was sitting cross-legged to the side, one long leg bent, his arm resting leisurely on his knee.
He didn’t look like he was participating in a ceremony, but more like he was camping.
As she passed, his black-sclera, white-pupil eyes lifted slightly, his gaze slowly sliding up, from her ankle to her thigh, as if he were savoring some delicacy.
Yu Jiao shot him a glare.
He bared his sharp teeth and smiled shamelessly.
After she had walked away, her bare calves were still swaying under the hem of her cheongsam, long, slender, and full, their pale whiteness alluring.
Yuan Cang let out a wolf whistle, which was drowned out by the grand, solemn chanting.
The next moment, the chanting stopped, and all was quiet.
The two of them stood at the foot of the steps. The heavy, black coffin was on the altar.
Helan Duo turned around, his lowered right hand dripping, the blood clinging to his fingertips, reluctantly falling.
He looked down at her, lifted his hand, and his blood-stained fingers parted the black veil that was covering her face.
Yu Jiao couldn’t help but close her eyes. She felt a cool touch on her eyelids, leaving two red marks.
She frowned slightly and opened her eyes. She saw his pale eyelashes curved, a half-smile on his face, a complete change from his serious, noble demeanor, now with a hint of evil.
—She had never thought that with a blink of an eye, he would have changed his face.
His hand was still suspended before her. In front of everyone, he touched her lips and, with a very sensual touch, ground them twice.
The metallic smell of blood entered her lips and teeth.
Yu Jiao was very sure—this was definitely not part of the ceremony!
This beast in human form still had the air of a noble priest, but his fingertips, under the cover of the black veil, were toying with her lips.
But Yu Jiao had no time to argue, because the beast-in-human-form priest opened his thin lips and announced:
“Please, Madam, enter the coffin.”
“…”
Yu Jiao opened her eyes wide in shock.
This vivid expression seemed to please him. His beautiful lips curved into a smile.
“Please, Madam, enter the coffin.”
Helan Duo’s unique voice echoed in the empty hall. Then, a rumbling, mechanical sound was heard, and the huge coffin opened, revealing a dark interior.
Yu Fenghe’s body was lying inside.
Yu Jiao shivered.
“…”
The followers were like a cheering squad, bursting into a chorus of excited chanting.
It gave Yu Jiao the strange feeling of a wedding night prank.
She gritted her teeth and glared at him, who had now put on his righteous face again, and listened to him spout his nonsense:
“Thursday.”
“Please, Madam, enter the coffin. Use the cult leader’s mortal remains as a medium to communicate with the god and pray for his mercy.”
“And let the seed of life sprout.”
The prayer was solemn, but Yu Jiao could clearly see a teasing look on his scholarly, scoundrelly face!
She was truly being roasted on a fire.
Helan Duo, who had completed his task, was about to leave. As he passed her, he turned slightly, and a barely audible voice entered her ear:
“You won’t die if you go in. You will die if you don’t.”
With that, he stood in the center of the followers. Amidst their fanatical gazes, his gentle, calm eyes were like some kind of calming charm.
Her heart steadied.
Besides, she had no other choice.
“…”
Yu Jiao closed her eyes. Amidst the countless dazed gazes, she stepped onto the stairs, one by one.
Her steps were as heavy as if she were going to be buried with him. And in fact, there was not much difference.
Drip.
The woman, holding the ‘seed of life’, slowly walked up the last step. Her slender yet graceful figure was high above, like a fragile black iris.
Through the open coffin, Yu Jiao finally saw her husband’s true face.
His eyes were closed, his hands crossed on his abdomen. His complicated black robe made his skin look pale and slightly grey, which only made him look colder and more resolute.
A strong, terrifying feeling of encountering a natural enemy made her breath catch.
It wasn’t that his dead face was terrifying. On the contrary, he was even more handsome in person than in the portrait, undoubtedly extremely handsome. His eyebrows were thick and black, his nose straight, and his two thin lips were tightly closed. His features were so sharp they were almost as if they were made of cold, hard, black and grey lines.
It had to be said, death had even added an unspeakable charm to him… strange and dangerous.
Her Adam’s apple bobbed. She couldn’t help but tear her gaze away from his face. Only then could she breathe.
But she was not prepared to meet another gaze.
From a great distance, she could still feel the deep, rich violet of his eyes, calm and profound.
Nie Hongshen nodded slightly. It was unclear if it was in encouragement or urging.
Yu Jiao stood alone in the center of everyone’s gaze. All the followers were kneeling behind her, and the guests were standing in the empty space in front of her.
Nie Hongshen and Yu Bingci were in the front.
Everyone was looking at her silently.
—She couldn’t delay any longer.
Yu Jiao lowered her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped into the coffin.
The darkness was like a bloody mouth, swallowing her. The next moment, the coffin closed with a rumble.
The followers let out a cheer and began to pray in low voices again.
Through the thick wood of the coffin, the sound was a little muffled. Yu Jiao was frozen in the pitch-black darkness, not knowing what to do next.
The coffin was huge. Everywhere was covered with Yu Fenghe’s complicated, magnificent ‘shroud’. The fabric was cold, and it clung to Yu Jiao’s bare skin like a ghostly hand.
Her breathing was very light, as if she were afraid of disturbing something. But this dead silence only made another sound stand out.
Rustle. Rustle.
A faint, rustling sound of fabric.
At first, Yu Jiao thought it was just her breathing, accidentally brushing against Yu Fenghe’s ubiquitous robes.
But gradually, she suddenly realized: No! The sound is getting louder…
Something was approaching in the darkness.
In an instant, her ankle was seized by a cold, hard hand and yanked!
A feeling of falling immediately washed over her. Yu Jiao was as if thrown into a bone-chillingly cold pool, about to drown.
“!”
It was not a hallucination.
Yu Jiao coughed and climbed out of the water, crossing her arms and looking around warily.
This was a seemingly endless space. Though it was pitch black, she could see without any obstacle.
The ripples of water, spreading out from her, her wet dress… and the man sitting not far away, with his back to her.
A wide, black robe with a complicated dark pattern. A few thin, long braids hung down from under his black, choppy hair.
He didn’t look back, just nonchalantly raised his hand. Her vision suddenly blurred, and she fell into the water. As she was feeling dizzy, a cold hand suddenly seized her lifeline.
She opened her eyes and met that dark, gloomy face that she could see everywhere.
But this was a real person.
Whether he was alive or not was another question.
Yu Fenghe’s face was blank. He leaned over, his hands on Yu Jiao’s neck, and slowly tightened his grip.
This person had a face that would not show mercy. And he was indeed ruthless.
Yu Jiao was being choked, strengthless. The ‘seed of life’ she had been clutching fell from her hand and into the water.
With a crisp sound.
The seed, which had sunk to the bottom of the water, sprouted and, at a visibly rapid speed, began to grow.
His dark, black eyes shifted slightly, and his gaze passed over Yu Jiao’s pale face to the newly grown plant.
“I will not kill you,” he said suddenly.
His voice was like cold iron.
As his words fell, he let go of her and put his hands in his wide sleeves.
Yu Jiao collapsed into the water, panting.
The dried blood on her eyelids was washed away by the water, and it flowed down, like tears of blood.
The lucky survivor, she had not yet had time to feel the lingering fear when she suddenly felt a creepy, rustling sound from behind her.
Then, something thick and coiled wrapped around her, coiling around her slender limbs, lifting her high and spreading her out.
…Vines?
It’s… it’s the ‘seed of life’!
Yu Jiao struggled, unable to move. She looked in fear at the composed Yu Fenghe.
“What are you doing?!”
A physiological flush rose on her face from the suffocation, which only made her look more alluring. And her wet clothes clung to her skin, outlining her beautiful body in every detail.
“I will not kill you,” Yu Fenghe repeated, his face a death mask.
A thin vine brushed past the corner of her eye, then slowly moved down, crawling over her long neck, and into her collar…
“After all, this is the first night of our seven-day wedding—”
“—My bride.”