Chapter 3: The Hanging Bride

 

                         

"I am surnamed Wei, a wedding guest... I must see Master Shangren immediately!"

Outside the side gate of Ganye Temple, before the wedding procession assembled to escort Lord Chai in his marriage to the County Princess of Linfen, four or five maids holding ceremonial items and torches stared blankly at the unfamiliar young lady sitting with elegant composure in the bridal carriage. The young man leading their group sneered with undisguised disdain:

"A wedding guest hiding in the bridal carriage? How extraordinarily peculiar—whose custom permits this? If you ask me, you look far more like a thief taking advantage of the chaos!"

Wei Shubin felt fury surge through her veins. She wanted desperately to grab something and hurl it at his insufferably arrogant face. There was something heavy in her hands... what was this object?

Glancing down, she hastily placed the valuable gilt-silver hand warmer back in the carriage with exaggerated care.

"I am not a thief! If you don't believe me, take me to see Master Shangren—she knows me personally!" Wei Shubin retorted angrily, and unable to contain her indignation, added sharply: "Randomly accusing people of being thieves should be punished! You're so young—try to accumulate some virtue with your words!"

The young man outside raised his eyebrows with theatrical surprise. In the flickering torchlight, one could observe he was merely sixteen or seventeen, yet he wore a purple satin robe with elaborate floral patterns embroidered across the chest and stomach, secured by a gold-adorned jade belt at his waist—formal attire permitted exclusively for officials of the third rank and above, typically projecting considerable nobility. However...

However, this young man was far too thin, practically swimming in the voluminous purple robe, and his face bore such an insufferably haughty expression that it utterly wasted the fine clothing. He opened his mouth to deliver what was undoubtedly a cutting remark when a middle-aged maid beside him suddenly leaned forward and exclaimed with recognition:

"Isn't this the young lady from Minister Wei's household?"

"Minister Wei's household?" The young man's expression shifted, frowning unconsciously as he took an involuntary step backward.

"Yes indeed. When the Zixu Temple started the Women's Study Society, Young Lady Wei attended frequently and was quite close with Master Shangren. That's right, back then Young Lady Wei was always accompanied by Princess Su of the Eastern Palace..."

Wei Shubin also recognized this middle-aged maid—she was Jingxuan, one of Master Shangren Chai Yingluo's most capable assistants. Yes, she was normally a Daoist priestess, but presumably now accompanied her mistress in temporarily returning to secular life for these three ceremonial days.

Around the seventh year of Zhenguan, Chai Yingluo had established a "Women's Study Society" at her inner temple "Zixu Temple," occasionally inviting wives and daughters of meritorious officials throughout the capital to attend lectures and philosophical discussions. The wives and daughters of Minister Wei's household were naturally among those favored with invitations. Master Shangren of Zixu Temple came from extraordinarily prestigious background and wielded considerable influence—talented women like Imperial Consort Xue of the Upper Palace, the widowed mother of the five successful Cui sons from Qinghe, the capital's foremost Buddhist nun Dharma Master Jingming, and the octogenarian Medicine King Sun Simiao had all appeared to deliver talks at her society. Over the years, the Zixu Temple in the imperial garden, with its brocade decorations and fragrant incense clouds, had become the capital's most fashionable gathering place for cultivated noble ladies.

Because her father Wei Zheng was the court's premier minister, Wei Shubin naturally drew considerable attention at the society and was quite familiar with this Daoist priestess Jingxuan. The priestess was reputedly Chai Yingluo's former nurse who later took religious vows alongside her young mistress. She usually managed all the temple's administrative affairs. Now recognizing Wei Shubin with certainty, she hurried forward to carefully help her descend from the carriage, chattering continuously all the while:

"Look at my poor failing eyesight—it's far too dark outside, I didn't recognize you at first... How did the young lady end up in the bride's carriage? Your father and mother are in the front courtyard—they arrived before dark. Did young lady come to meet with Minister Wei and his wife?"

Wei Shubin's legs went weak with shock, and she nearly lost her balance entirely, steadying herself by clutching desperately at the carriage shaft. She quickly interjected:

"I have urgent business with Master Shangren—I absolutely cannot see my parents first! Master Jingxuan, please trouble yourself to take me directly to see Master Shangren!"

"Is that so?" Jingxuan looked somewhat troubled, her brow creasing with concern. "Young lady, please forgive me, but I was specifically ordered to help decorate the bridal carriage... You know Master Shangren's temperament—she cannot be disobeyed under any circumstances. If I fail to follow her orders precisely, I'll be severely punished... Ah, right—Fourteenth Young Lord!"

The other maids had already begun scattering dates, chestnuts, and coins inside the bridal carriage with ritualistic precision. The tall, thin young man held a torch aloft to provide illumination and turned his head when Jingxuan called out to him.

"I cannot abandon the bridal carriage, would Young Lord Fourteen please take Young Lady Wei to find Yingniang inside? You're free anyway..."

What... what kind of arrangement was this? Wei Shubin stood momentarily stunned. In the dead of night, a lone man and woman meeting for the first time—how could they simply walk together unchaperoned?

That tall, thin Fourteenth Young Lord also seemed startled, apparently contemplating the identical impropriety. He glanced at Wei Shubin with obvious reluctance but inquired:

"Is this truly Minister Wei Xuancheng's daughter? Aunt Jing, are you absolutely certain you haven't mistaken her?"

"Listen to what Young Lord Fourteen is saying—how could my old eyes mistake such a delicate young lady?" Jingxuan's face wrinkled with knowing smiles. "Besides, Young Lord, doesn't she resemble Minister Wei? The thin face, pointed chin, and those fierce, intelligent eyes..."

Wei Shubin vaguely recalled overhearing people discuss in the Zixu Temple Women's Study Society that although Master Jingxuan was a dedicated religious person, her greatest pleasure in life was matchmaking between men and women...

"Aunt Jing, I don't think this arrangement is appropriate..."

"Oh, what's inappropriate about it? I'm simply too occupied! Young Lord Fourteen, what did you say to Yingniang earlier? That we should call on you for any task? I think this task is quite suitable—I'll entrust Young Lady Wei to you then."

Jingxuan had fully assumed the commanding air of an experienced manager. Having issued her instructions with finality, she lifted her skirts and climbed into the bridal carriage, burying herself in arranging the ceremonial items inside, no longer paying them any attention whatsoever.

That Fourteenth Young Lord shook his head helplessly, glanced at Wei Shubin again with an inscrutable expression, and without offering a word of acknowledgment or greeting, started walking purposefully toward the temple gate with his torch held high.

What to do?

Wei Shubin hesitated only for a single heartbeat before gritting her teeth decisively and following the tall, thin young man. Remaining at the gate would prove useless—only by finding Master Shangren Chai Yingluo quickly and pleading her case in person would there exist any hope of escaping her current predicament.

The tall, thin young man possessed long legs and took large, purposeful strides, showing absolutely no intention of slowing his pace to accommodate her. After a few steps, Wei Shubin was forced to lift her skirts unceremoniously and break into a small run, chasing after the torch flame dancing in the air as they passed through the side gate. She suddenly felt as though they had plunged into a forest of dancing ghost shadows.

The small path inside the gate was overgrown with wild weeds, with shrubs towering higher than shoulder height on both sides. Who knew how long this path and gate had been abandoned to nature? The sound of the tall, thin young man's footsteps crushing grass stems was clearly audible, though gradually drowned out by Wei Shubin's labored panting.

Just whose Fourteenth Young Lord was this? So cold, arrogant, and sharp-tongued.

He wore a purple robe, which should indicate a person of extraordinarily high rank, yet he was stationed at the side gate of Ganye Temple with servants to prepare the bridal carriage—and incidentally caught a runaway bride—while permitting a servant-status maid to order him around without protest. How could a noble of the third rank be performing such menial tasks?

In all great households of the time, the main gate was reserved exclusively for the master and honored guests, while servants and laborers used the side gates for deliveries and departures. The side gate of Ganye Temple wasn't positioned far from the main gate—the shouts and clamor of the wedding procession could be faintly heard echoing through the night. The tall, thin young man led confidently with the torch while Wei Shubin followed with small, hurried steps. As they moved toward the direction of the escalating noise, winding through several turns, the building eaves on both sides grew progressively taller, and the darkness of night deepened oppressively.

Suddenly, a large shadow flashed through the tall grass, startling Wei Shubin badly. Fourteenth Young Lord immediately called out with recognition:

"Yang Da!"

A tall and remarkably robust figure, towering like a pagoda, emerged from beside the path, instantly dominating the space. The man's breathless voice carried unmistakable laughter:

"Fourteenth Young Lord! Thank goodness—save me! Master Shangren is too cruel. The men she stationed to tease the groom are all tough fellows, chasing me in circles trying to beat me to death!"

Wei Shubin stepped back instinctively, craning her neck and almost standing on tiptoes to observe the broad-shouldered, strong-featured young man who had burst from the tall grass like some wild creature. Fourteenth Young Lord replied with evident amusement:

"Stop talking such nonsense—the groom-teasers are all women, where are these men you speak of? Where's Yingniang?"

"Some of these women are built exactly like men... Master Shangren is positioned inside the main gate, directing the women to block the entrance and prevent our entry!"

The towering Yang Da barely glanced at Wei Shubin, paying her negligible attention, probably assuming she was merely a maid. He turned to walk alongside the Fourteenth Young Lord, talking and laughing as they proceeded together:

"I, Yang Xinzhi, have helped many brothers in the team escort brides, but usually we just recite traditional poems and request money at the gates. Who'd expect Master Shangren to be so mischievous? The main gate is sealed tight as a drum, and while we're outside beating gongs and drums ceremonially, we almost need to bring up battering rams! Just when we built up momentum, Yingniang went and lit three huge bonfires inside the main gate and started throwing firecrackers in them—is this New Year's ghost-driving ritual? We had no choice—several tall fellows climbed over the corner tower of the wall, shouting to draw away the women guarding the gate. But who knew Yingniang had anticipated even this strategy and stationed people below the wall, each wielding clubs this thick, chasing us around the courtyard aiming for our heads..."

As Yang Xinzhi talked and gestured animatedly in the wavering torchlight, the Fourteenth Young Lord couldn't suppress a smile, and even Wei Shubin, despite her profoundly troubled mind, found herself breaking into an involuntary grin. They passed through a moon gate, and suddenly everything brightened dramatically—the sounds of gongs and drums, firecrackers, shouts, running feet, and laughter all mixed together in raucous celebration. They had reached Ganye Temple's main courtyard.

A waning moon hung high in the night sky, and candlelight flickered in the majestic hall, though both celestial and artificial light paled in comparison to the three huge bonfires blazing inside the courtyard gate. Firecrackers still crackled explosively in the three bonfires, continuously sending up columns of blue smoke. Almost everyone in the courtyard had gathered around the bonfires, while the Chai family's wedding party still struggled valiantly to break through the main gate. The clamor from both sides of the gate made it impossible to distinguish what people were shouting.

Master Shangren Chai Yingluo, who was directing the gate defense with military precision, must be positioned near the bonfires. Wei Shubin squinted in that direction but could only see a mass of dark heads silhouetted against the bright flames. Everyone seemed to be facing the main gate, utterly absorbed in the drama unfolding there.

If she were to walk over to find Chai Yingluo now, her parents might also be among that crowd...

For some inexplicable reason, the Fourteenth Young Lord had also stopped alongside Wei Shubin, silently contemplating the direction of the bonfires with furrowed brow. Yang Xinzhi inquired, "Fourteenth Young Lord, you're looking for Master Shangren—shall I go request her presence?"

This young man was quite considerate and capable. Fourteenth Young Lord nodded approvingly. "Go tell Yingniang that Minister Wei Xuancheng's daughter needs to see her on urgent business."

Yang Xinzhi's face showed surprise, and he turned back to properly observe Wei Shubin, bowing deeply and saying something about "Young Lady please forgive Xinzhi's rudeness." Wei Shubin naturally hurried to return the courtesy with equal formality.

Suddenly another burst of laughter and cheers erupted from the gate, along with what sounded like wood battering against wood. Yang Xinzhi looked up and smiled knowingly. "The main gate's about to give way—the groom will enter soon. Master Shangren might not be free at this moment, but I'll go look for her. Fourteenth Young Lord and Young Lady Wei, please wait here."

In the firelight, one could see this young man was quite handsome, with fair skin, thick eyebrows, large eyes, and dense black facial hair—the very picture of masculine beauty most admired in their time. Wei Shubin felt her face grow slightly warm for some inexplicable reason as she watched Yang Xinzhi's tall figure run toward the bonfires, feeling deeply grateful.

As the eldest daughter of her family, with her biggest brother Shuyu only thirteen or fourteen and still immature, she reflected that if she had such a reliable older brother to depend on, perhaps she wouldn't have had to flee her wedding in such desperate haste.

Lost in these scattered thoughts, Wei Shubin suddenly noticed the light around her rapidly dimming. She turned to see the Fourteenth Young Lord, without a word of explanation, walking away with the torch.

...Did this mean he considered his delivery complete and was washing his hands of the matter?

What a crude and discourteous person.

Wei Shubin glared angrily as his figure disappeared into shadow, then looked around and realized she was standing before the moon gate connecting the east wing to the main courtyard, closer to the main Buddha Hall. Turning her head, she could see the north side of the Buddha Hall shrouded in shadow. There seemed to be large piles of weeds and dead branches almost reaching up to the hall's eaves.

Perhaps the entire temple had been in this state—overgrown with weeds, buildings in ruins—before Chai Yingluo was commanded to oversee the wedding?

At least the latticed windows of the Buddha Hall still showed lamplight and moving shadows, indicating people inside. But the row of east wing rooms facing the Buddha Hall across the main courtyard was completely dark, seemingly vacant. Wei Shubin felt a little frightened and took two steps toward the southern bonfires, then stopped abruptly. She told herself "It's fine, this isn't far from the gate, they'll hear if I call," but she knew that hidden in the dark among the weeds, she'd be hard to spot, and with all the noise by the bonfires, likely no one would hear her even if she shouted herself hoarse.

Voices and light came from the east wing entrance.

The dim, flickering light seemed to emanate from handheld lanterns, as two figures with lamps emerged from the door, walking one behind the other. A breathless female voice said urgently, "Young Lady, truly, I saw His Highness—"

"Stop talking such nonsense," the responding voice was very delicate but extremely firm. "You must be seeing things, imagining ghosts in your paranoia. How dare you speak of such things? Master Shangren would whip you to death!"

The first female voice fell silent immediately. The second person softened her tone and said, "It's so late now, why hasn't the First Lady made any movement? Aluo, go check on her in the east wing—she hasn't fallen asleep, has she?"

The woman holding the lantern responded affirmatively, and the two turned toward the east wing entrance. Wei Shubin unconsciously followed a few steps behind them, then quickly stopped—she couldn't wander off now, as Yang Xinzhi might soon return with Chai Yingluo.

Indeed, lantern light swayed over from the west, but as it approached, Wei Shubin could see it wasn't who she hoped for, but rather a middle-aged servant woman. She hurried toward the east wing entrance, meeting the two women at the door. After exchanging some words in lowered voices, someone called out "First Lady" and began knocking.

There was no response.

The knocking turned to insistent pounding and shouting.

The east wing remained pitch black, showing no signs of life.

It was as if an icy ghost hand reached into Wei Shubin's chest and squeezed her heart with frozen fingers. She found it hard to breathe, inexplicable fear flooding her body as she was drawn, as if possessed by some external force, to shuffle quietly toward the east wing.

The door creaked twice, and screams pierced the air.

It was one or two women shrieking at the top of their lungs as if facing a ghost in broad daylight. Wei Shubin stopped to catch her breath, then couldn't help but gather her skirts and run forward.

Four or five figures had gathered at the room's entrance. No lamps were lit inside, but by the light of the courtyard's three bonfires, Wei Shubin saw two maids collapsed on the steps before the wing entrance—one trembling violently, the other already crying hysterically. Inside the doorway, a high-ranking lady wearing a flower crown and formal robes leaned against the wall, also unable to move.

"Lady Xi... Lady Xi..."

Through the servants' broken sobs, Wei Shubin climbed two steps and peered inside. The inner chamber's paper doors were wide open, pitch black within. After her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out something long swaying beneath the ceiling beams.

Her heart already half-guessing, both terrified and morbidly excited, she gathered her courage to step inside. But her legs were too weak—she tripped on the threshold and fell straight in, knocking over a low screen in the inner chamber and landing flat on the ground.

Looking up, she saw indeed a person hanging from the ceiling beam, a slight, small body suspended in mid-air by a long rope around the neck.

A scream burst unbidden from her own throat. In all her fourteen or fifteen years, this was the first time she'd seen a legendary "hanging ghost" with her own eyes.

A black shadow swift as wind swept past her, entering the inner chamber with a torch.

In the sudden brightness, Wei Shubin could see the hanging person wearing a glittering crown of hairpins and dark formal robes, the rope tight around their neck as they swayed in mid-air.

The purple-robed youth holding the torch looked quickly around, first using his torch to light the room's bronze lamp, then throwing down and stamping out his torch. He wrapped both arms around the hanging woman's body and shook it several times, seemingly trying to lift her out of the noose.

But he wasn't successful—instead, the hairpins and crown slipped from the hanging woman's head, falling straight to the ground with a continuous tinkling as over ten pearls and jewels scattered across the floor.

As the jewels shattered and scattered, so too had life been lost.

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