No one noticed the pale lightning threads, thin as swimming snakes, silently burrowing through ley line cracks into this isolated ravine. They sniffed frantically, swimming and probing underground like starving vipers, seeking any opportunity to strike.

  Inside the ancestral hall, however, was another scene of bustle entirely.

  Villagers packed the main hall three layers deep. Suonas blared earth-shatteringly, their piercing melodies mixed with gongs and drums, drowning out the commotion outside. Red candles burned high, smoke swirled thick, dyeing the entire hall an eerie blood-red—a bizarre wedding was underway.

  A pair of newlyweds knelt on red felt, facing a middle-aged couple in gold-embroidered longevity robes, sitting stiff as clay sculptures. Before them stood a goateed, squinty-eyed officiant holding a dark red scroll, voice booming, tone fawning.

  "Heaven as witness, earth as matchmaker, witnessed by both yin and yang realms—"

  He unrolled the scroll, densely covered in tiny calligraphy.

  "Will the bride and groom recite their vows and sign the marriage contract."

  "Bride, do you swear: from this day forth, through three lives and three worlds, whether wealth, fortune, merit, or mortal lifespan, you shall hold supreme priority access rights to the groom's assets? Do you accept responsibility for managing your husband's resources, fearing no hardship, dedicating yourself fully to allocating, utilizing, and exhausting all that he possesses? Once sworn, heaven and earth bear witness. Do you consent?"

  The bride, veiled in red, trembled with excitement. She let out a sharp, gleeful laugh:

  "I do! I'll sign!"

  Before her words finished, she impatiently bit her pale finger—bony knuckles, nails long and sharp. Blood dripped onto the marriage contract with a soft "hiss." She pressed down hard with her bloody fingerprint, which rapidly spread and expanded across the scroll, burrowing into the paper's depths like a living thing.

  The surrounding villagers applauded in unison, emitting eerie laughter. The officiant turned to the groom, eyes cold, carrying the detached air of a notary clerk:

  "Groom, do you swear: from this day forth, through three lives and three worlds, whether sickness, disaster, poverty, or karmic debt, your physical body shall bear sole liability? Even unto soul scattering and spiritual annihilation, not a fraction shall burden your wife's clan? Once sworn, no regrets unto death. Do you consent?"

  The groom kneeling on the ground was rigid, eyes filled with terror and despair. He wanted to scream, to run, but could only watch helplessly as his hand rose uncontrollably, slowly reaching toward his mouth, preparing to bite his finger and sign.

  Just as the groom's finger was about to touch his teeth—

  BANG!

  A mud-covered man dragging a broken leg crashed through the crowd, stumbling in.

  "Is there a doctor! Call 120… hurry…"

  The music stopped dead. Hundreds of eyes swiveled in unison, staring straight at this sudden intruder, gleaming with greedy hunger.

  The hall fell eerily silent. Only Teon's heavy breathing and the drip-drip of blood from his leg wound.

  Especially the bride. She slowly lifted a corner of her red veil, revealing a face caked in thick powder. When she saw Teon's face—mud-spattered but still sharply defined and strikingly handsome—drool nearly ran from her lips.

  "My my…"

  She let out a sharp, excited laugh:

  "This gentleman… so handsome…"

  The groom still kneeling on the ground maintained his rigid posture, only his eyeballs rolling frantically sideways, desperately signaling to Teon.

  …

  Meanwhile, Ling, who had floated in behind, noticed something.

  Occasional dim flashes lit up the ground, but seemed to be hitting some invisible barrier. Like countless glowing eels thrashing beneath a frozen winter lake.

  Ling tried directing her spirit form downward. Dirt posed no obstacle, but when she sank about two meters below ground, she indeed met a flexible resistance.

  Hummm—

  A massive elastic force transmitted, bouncing her spirit back to the surface like a trampoline.

  "I see," Ling mused. "So this is how they keep so many dead souls penned together—this barrier hides them from the Celestial Eye's scans while preventing escapes. The mortal realm really is… quite the mining operation."

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  Though she'd been inexplicably dragged into this ghost village, currently this barrier had become Teon's temporary shelter, blocking that deadly Cleaning Cloud overhead. Whether this was a wolf's den or tiger's lair, however, remained to be seen.

  Just as Ling finished her probe below, a commotion erupted above.

  The bride—whose head and body didn't quite match up—suddenly stood, shoving aside her groom. Displeased.

  "Village Chief! You're playing favorites! There's such a good-looking one, and you stuck me with this toad!" She pointed at her groom across from her. "I don't care! I want an exchange!"

  Before she finished, a petite woman with braided pigtails squeezed out of the crowd, voice even shriller:

  "Gao Qin! You're too much! Just now you said you liked this unlucky bastard's birth chart, so I gave you my number ticket! Now you want to swap just like that? Where are the rules? Let me tell you—that newcomer is mine!"

  Two female ghosts quarreled furiously over Teon.

  Teon was leaning against the doorframe gasping when he suddenly felt something itchy and soft on his elbow.

  Looking down, the pigtailed woman had somehow "attached" herself to him. She was light as air, almost weightless. Looking up at Teon, she flashed what she thought was a seductive smile.

  "Handsome, come home with big sis? Sis has a big house…"

  Teon's heart lurched. He violently shook his arm—

  That smile was too bizarre. Her mouth corners weren't moved by muscles, but flickered like slideshow frames—expressionless one second, jump-cut to a grinning sticker the next.

  "Get away!" Teon backed off in terror.

  As a staunch materialist and tech company founder, he was still trying to explain tonight's events scientifically: this had to be hallucinations from too many late nights, or holographic projection technology. Where in the world were there ghosts and gods? All weirdness was just people playing supernatural tricks for some scheme. He wasn't entirely wrong, actually—maintaining a herd of old ghosts was expensive. You needed a constant supply of yang energy to balance the yin from gathered spirits, just to evade celestial surveillance. If there wasn't profit involved, no ghost would believe it.

  Meanwhile, after being bounced up by the underground barrier, Ling happened to land by the rejected groom's feet. A long-missed scent of living human sweat mixed with body heat reached her.

  Ling was overjoyed: "Locked in! So there's a live one here after all! Hidden in plain sight!"

  She floated over for a closer look and instantly froze, her spectral mouth twitching uncontrollably.

  "My god, what kind of luck does this guy have?"

  This groom was none other than the unlucky bystander from that alley when Ling first arrived—the one Zhaos and Ling had possessed back-to-back, whom Zhaos had then doubled back to possess again!

  Last time Dax had carried him off and done a simple purification. Yet here he was, washed up in this ghost village, about to be force-bred.

  No time to worry about that now. Ling slipped in with practiced ease. After all, she'd "driven" this body not long ago—she knew exactly which meridians were smooth, which consciousness port was easiest to connect through.

  Whoosh—

  Like returning to a familiar bed, Ling's consciousness instantly synchronized perfectly with this body.

  "Ahh~ That's the stuff!"

  Ling couldn't help sighing internally. Though this body was mortal, it had extremely high compatibility with yin souls. No wonder all those wandering ghosts fought to possess it—this was basically a luxury underworld suite. Warm in winter, cool in summer, move-in ready, plug and play.

  After entering, Ling politely greeted the original owner's soul squeezed into a corner. After all, this was her second hostile takeover—even she felt a little guilty.

  "Hey, fancy meeting you again. Just borrowing this for a bit, won't be long. Scoot over, don't hog the memory."

  But the original showed no reaction, just faint soul tremors. Ling looked closer—that huge red silk ceremonial flower pinned to his chest wasn't decoration at all, but a physical "soul lock." It bound the original's soul joints tight, like a nose ring on a bull, making him do whatever commanded. And it also prevented Ling, the intruder, from controlling anything. Like putting a car in Park with the handbrake up and steering wheel locked.

  Ling studied that big red flower thoughtfully:

  "No wonder this guy was so obedient signing just now… Does this count as him 'voluntarily' signing? This technique… I'm learning it. Mortal realm ghosts really are more sophisticated than us country folks. Back home we're still doing the whole kidnapping thing—high labor costs, heavy sentences if caught, really stupid… This soul-binding silk's weaving method is interesting. Physical restraint plus spiritual tethering. If I learn this, I could put together a 'Basic Puppet Control 101' course back home. Definitely a bestseller…"

  While thinking about business opportunities, she began trying to unlock it.

  This thing was a linked-ring structure, the threading quite clever. Remove one end and the other tightened. Forcing it would damage either soul or body. Had to outsmart it.

  Just as Ling focused on unbinding, the situation outside shifted dramatically.

  The bride, Gao, was clearly an action-oriented type. She ripped off her obstructing red veil, nimble fingers hooking a few times at the groom's chest. The red silk flower came off easily.

  Before Ling could celebrate, she felt a chill on her chest. Gao Qiaoqiao had roughly torn off that red silk flower, then flickered and instantly teleported in front of Teon.

  "He's mine now! Hmph, Lin Miao, let's see what you've got to compete with me!"

  Gao cackled, hands moving like lightning, firmly looping that flower—still warm from the "quasi-ex-husband"—around Teon and tying a dead knot.

  Hummm—

  Teon's unguarded body suddenly went rigid. The instant the red silk tightened, he felt his brain disconnect from his limbs. He'd become a marionette.

  "Gao! You bitch!"

  The petite woman called Lin Miao was furious. She charged at Gao, clawing and biting. The two fought a tug-of-war around the rigid Teon.

  "You only got this far because your godmother cleans at the Guanyin Temple and stole some miracle pills! Otherwise how could you pump out babies like a sow? I'll report you to the Village Chief!"

  "Psh! Scared of you?" Gao yanked Lin's hair while shouting triumphantly. "I'm the village's top producer! Whoever keeps our village line going is the hero! You old turtledove who can't pop out a single kid in decades—giving him to you would be wasted!"

  "I! You!" Lin was clearly outmatched, already losing on momentum. But still unwilling to give up, she endured the piercing pain and clung to Teon, as if he was her only chip to turn things around.

  The crowd gathered round, happily watching two women fight over a man, even commenting on whose combat power was stronger.

  And at the center of this chaos, no one noticed—that "ex-husband" who'd just had his red silk flower torn off and regained freedom suddenly had clear, sharp eyes. Hunching down like a slippery eel, he silently slipped through the crowd, vanishing into the shadows of the hall's dim side door…