Yue Ling · Chat

Yue Ling had no intention of entering a dungeon today. He was merely passing through the Teleportation Hall, habitually glancing up at the points leaderboard scrolling across the giant screen. His name sat steadily in the second spot, separated from first place by a distance that was neither too far nor too close. With a blank expression, he withdrew his gaze, planning to head to the Wangsheng Station Intelligence Exchange for a black coffee and to flip through the latest dungeon guides—when his back was solidly bumped by someone. The force wasn't massive, but he happened to be standing at the edge of a teleportation beam that was currently charging. The feeling of weightlessness lasted only a fraction of a second before the scene before him turned upside down. A gloomy sky, dusty dirt roads, and the air thick with the scorched smell of burnt paper money. In the distance was a village decorated with festive lanterns yet eerily silent; red lanterns swayed under the eaves, but not a single soul was in sight. A puddle by his feet reflected a blood-red moon. Yue Ling steadied himself and closed his eyes for a moment. Then, he turned his head to look at the person who had tumbled in with him. His expression didn't change much. Only his lips tightened for a fleeting second, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly. That was his only habit when suppressing irritation. "...C-rank," he said, glancing at the dungeon information shimmering on his wrist, his voice as flat as a weather forecast. "Chinese folklore, five-player instance. Dungeon Name—Ghost Marriage Feast." After saying those words, he paused for a beat, his gaze finally landing on the two of them. At some point, he had been changed into a black Chinese wedding robe with red trim, the cuffs embroidered with dark patterns of twin lotuses, and a crimson silk belt cinched at his waist. And you—you were wearing a bright red bridal gown, embroidered with gold phoenixes, the skirt trailing on the ground, and even a red veil embroidered with mandarin ducks resting on your head. Yue Ling looked at the red veil, then down at his own wedding robe. He remained silent for about three seconds. "...System," he spoke, his tone still flat, but his volume lower than before. "What is the probability of a random match resulting in this configuration?" No answer. The System never answers. Under an old locust tree at the village entrance, a white paper lantern suddenly lit up on its own. A raspy voice drifted from all directions, indistinguishable as male or female, young or old: "The bride and groom have arrived at the gate; please take your seats. After the three bows, the ceremony is complete and you shall enter the bridal chamber. Do not miss the auspicious hour, or do not blame this old man for being unkind." As the voice faded, two rows of paper effigies appeared out of thin air. They wore gaudy red and green clothes, with exaggerated rouge on their faces and upturned mouths, holding paper-mache gongs and drums, striking them soundlessly. Their mouths opened and closed, but the sound that emerged was the giggling of real people. "Welcome the newcomers—welcome the newcomers—" "The bride is so pretty—the groom is so handsome—" The paper effigies swarmed forward, surrounding you and Yue Ling without touching you. They simply crowded together, pushing you both toward the largest manor in the center of the village. The moment he was pushed, Yue Ling instinctively stepped aside. He hated being touched. But after stepping aside, he noticed the paper effigies surrounding you even more tightly—so he paused and stepped back to his original position. He didn't speak, but he walked half a step ahead of you to your left. It wasn't an intentional act of protection, but more of a habitual positioning—that spot offered the best field of vision, allowing him to see ahead, to the left, and your movements simultaneously. "Let's go," he said. His tone was just as flat as when he was looking at the leaderboard in the Teleportation Hall. The manor was massive, and the main hall had been decorated as a wedding hall. Red candles burned high, "Double Happiness" characters were pasted upside down, and two grandmaster chairs sat in the center, yet they were empty. Only two spirit tablets stood there, reading "Seat of Successive Ancestors" and "Spirit of the Anonymous." A paper effigy resembling a matchmaker drifted out from a side door, clutching a red silk ribbon with a large red flower in the center. It stuffed the ends of the silk into your and Yue Ling's hands, then shrieked in a high-pitched voice: "The auspicious hour has arrived—the newcomers shall perform the rites—" Yue Ling looked down at the red silk in his hand, then at you. He still lacked expression. But his fingertips lightly rubbed the silk, as if confirming what kind of dungeon prop it actually was. "C-rank dungeons usually don't set up instant-death mechanics right at the start," he said. His voice was very soft, as if talking to himself, yet also to you. "Perform the bows. Don't look up at the grandmaster chairs; there's something behind the backrests." The first bow. To Heaven and Earth. The two turned together, facing the sky outside where the blood moon hung high. The angle of the bow had to be precise; the paper matchmaker stared intently from the side, counting the beat. You felt a very slight pull from the other end of the red silk—he was using the tension of the ribbon to signal the rhythm of the bow. He said nothing. But he guided you. The second bow. To the Ancestors. Turning back to face the two spirit tablets. This time, the shadows behind the tablets suddenly writhed, as if something was crouching behind the chairs, quietly peeking out. Yue Ling kept his eyes forward, but you noticed his fingers tightening on the red silk. It wasn't fear, but a preparatory stance to discard the silk and draw his blade at any second. He didn't draw his blade. The shadow peeking from behind the tablets stopped three feet away from the back of your neck, as if blocked by some invisible boundary. The paper matchmaker's smile remained unchanged, her silk handkerchief snapping in the air. The third bow. To each other. You turned to face Yue Ling. His gaze shifted from the spirit tablets to your face—or more accurately, to the red veil on your head. Through the red gauze, you couldn't see his expression clearly, but you could see his jawline was very tight. He didn't bow immediately. The paper matchmaker's voice rose an octave: "Groom—are you perhaps regretting the marriage?" Yue Ling's brow twitched. Not out of fear of the threat, but a subtle annoyance at being offended by a nonsensical plot. Nevertheless, he bowed. The movement was restrained and precise—not an inch too close, not an inch too dismissive. In the moment of the bow, his presence was very close to you. His breathing was steady, the rhythm without a single tremor. But you faintly caught a scent—the bitterness of black coffee mixed with a cold, crisp aroma like a pine forest in deep winter. It wasn't a scent from the dungeon. It was something he brought in from the outside. "The rite is complete—" The paper matchmaker's voice suddenly became sharp and piercing, like metal scraping glass. "Send them to the bridal chamber—" The manor doors slammed shut behind you. More than half the red lanterns went out, and the remaining few flickered precariously in the draft. The paper effigies suddenly fell silent, their smiles frozen on their faces, only their rouge-painted eye sockets staring directly at you. Yue Ling let go of the red silk. His right hand was already on the hilt of his long blade, "Frost Path," while his left hand gave your shoulder a very light pat. "Go forward. Don't look back." His voice was extremely low, his lips barely moving. "There's a table in the bridal chamber; the clear-condition item is hidden under it. The way out for a C-rank dungeon won't be hidden too deep." You followed his instruction and walked forward. Behind you came the faint sound of metal friction—the sound of a short blade being unsheathed. He didn't follow. He was blocking the paper effigies for you, even if only for ten seconds. You closed the bridal chamber door behind you. Sure enough, two things were under the table: a Concentric Lock and a key. The lock was engraved with four words—"Life and Death Shared." A piece of yellowed red paper was wrapped around the key's handle, with a note: *Before the Hour of the Rabbit, use the key to open the well in the backyard to exit.* There was also a pot of wine and two cups on the table. A lipstick mark was printed on the rim of a cup, left by a bride from who knows what era. When you finished figuring out the exit method and pushed the door open to tell him, Yue Ling was leaning against the doorframe. His twin blades were already sheathed, and his expression was still flat, as if holding off a dozen paper effigies just now was a trivial matter. At some point, he had picked up a red silk flower from the manor's lintel; perhaps finding it in the way, he had plucked it and dropped it at his feet. "Handled?" he asked. His tone was as flat as when he usually asked "Dungeon settled?" back in the Space. You nodded and showed him the Concentric Lock and the key. He glanced at them, looked away, and tilted his head toward the backyard: "Let's go. It's almost the Hour of the Rabbit." The well in the backyard was very deep. The water reflected the blood-red sky above, as well as the reflection of the two of you standing side by side. A black wedding robe and a bright red bridal gown overlapped on the water's surface, looking like a couple that had truly performed their rites. Yue Ling glanced at the reflection, showing no particular expression. But when he handed the key to you, his hand avoided any angle that would touch your fingertips. "You open it," he said. "Your points aren't high enough; a C-rank still has settlement value for you." The well cover opened, and moonlight flooded out. A teleportation beam rose from the bottom of the well, enveloping both of you. The Teleportation Hall of the Abyssal Rift appeared before your eyes again. The giant screen was still scrolling, and the crowds were still noisy. No one noticed another unremarkable teleportation beam fading in a corner. The wedding robes on Yue Ling had vanished, replaced by the sharp, dark casual wear he had been wearing before entering the dungeon. He looked down at his wrist; the light mark showed the points had been credited. The rewards of a C-rank dungeon were a drop in the bucket for him, but he still scrolled through the settlement details from start to finish, as if confirming something. You stood beside him, still trying to organize your words, wondering where to even start with this whole situation—accidentally bumping someone into a teleportation array and then performing a wedding rite with them in a dungeon didn't sound like a normal first meeting no matter how you sliced it. Yue Ling spoke first. "Next time you want to look at the leaderboard, don't walk backward while doing it." His tone was as flat as ever, but you noticed his fingers lightly tapping on his sword hilt twice. That was his habit when considering his phrasing. "It's fine if you bump into me. If you had bumped into an S-rank, you wouldn't be standing here." After saying that, he paused for about two seconds. Then, he took a small jade-colored protective charm from his inventory and placed it casually in your palm. A tiny character for "Ling" was carved on the charm—his personal mark. "One-time shield." His explanation was only three words. Then he turned and began walking toward the exit of the Teleportation Hall. After about seven or eight steps, he stopped for a moment. He didn't turn around. "...Don't go into dungeons by yourself. Next time... call me."