The Academic God Becomes an Internet Sensation After Joining a Dating Show - Chapter 78 - The Wedding

Ghost.

Everyone couldn’t help but shiver.

The secret chamber was deathly quiet. For some reason, the bride’s room had a low ceiling, and combined with the chilly atmosphere, it felt like something unclean might emerge at any moment.

“Honestly, this is giving me the creeps…” Chen Xiangchao dreaded such things most of all. He forced himself to shift his focus, his voice dry as he said, “Let me take a look at this diary.”

Chen Xiangchao flipped through the pages, noticing a tear at the very beginning. “Huh, part of the front pages has been ripped out.”

Qing Lin took it and said, “Maybe we can find the missing entries.”

“Everyone, come quick! I found a box over here!” Su Mingxuan called them over, revealing a small wooden chest beside the bride’s bed.

Su Mingxuan announced, “It requires a four-digit code. Look around for anything that might be a clue.”

The five began searching the room.

The interior was compact. A carved pearwood bed hung with golden gauze curtains stood beside a wooden dressing table displaying the bride’s jewelry. A modest mirror sat atop the table, alongside a purple-gold incense burner.

The room still carried the remnants of wedding celebrations—a giant “double happiness” character was pasted on the wall—but what should have been a joyful setting felt eerie, perhaps from having gone so long without living visitors. In the gray, gloomy atmosphere, the blood-red “double happiness” seemed especially horrifying and glaring.

Shen Xuzhi rummaged through the dresser. As he pushed aside the items, he noticed a peculiar pattern imprinted on the tabletop.

The pattern didn’t form anything recognizable; it looked as if several characters or shapes had been broken apart and scattered.

Zheng Qin stepped forward to examine it and discovered a sentence on the back of the dresser mirror. “I don’t want to recall those past events, but I also need to remind myself. Whenever this time comes, I look at the pattern on the table, and it brings back the memories.”

“This pattern must be a clue for a code,” Chen Xiangchao remarked. “Hmm… It doesn’t seem logical. Four letters—should we try spelling something out?”

Chen Xiangchao attempted it first but struggled to make sense of it.

Qing Lin asked at that moment, “Why would the clue be written behind the mirror?”

Zheng Qin, who had been examining the mirror nearby, replied, “Right! Does that mean the mirror itself is a clue?”

The modestly sized mirror was lifted for inspection. Upon attempting to pry it open, the back casing of the mirror was found to be detachable from the front glass surface.

“This piece can be detached!” Staring at the mirror frame’s delicate openwork, realization suddenly dawned. “Oh, I get it now!”

The mirror frame was then placed over the patterns on the tabletop. Through the openwork, the lines of the patterns shifted and split apart. As the frame was moved, several characters gradually emerged.

Everyone gathered around, matching the characters one by one.

“Chi…”

“Wei…”

“Wang…”

“Liang…”

“This doesn’t feel like a proper idiom,” Chen Xiangchao said. “But… somehow it seems familiar.”

Qing Lin then remarked, “They’re all missing a ‘ghost.’”

“!” Chen Xiangchao immediately understood what was happening.

“Demons and monsters!” he blurted out.

Su Mingxuan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, typing the initials of the idiom. With a soft click, the box unlocked.

Inside lay several pages, yellowed and fragile—torn straight from a diary.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

[February 18, 1916

Today I met a girl about my age. She was clutching a doll, standing alone by the village entrance, waiting for her mother.

She looked so lonely. Since there wasn’t any food waiting for me at home anyway, I decided to stay and keep her company.

But her mother never came.

Word reached my father that I’d been loitering instead of working. He beat me again. It hurt so much.

But I wasn’t slacking off—I was talking to the girl!]

____________________________________________________________________________________

[March 1, 1917

I keep seeing a strange man at home. He’s terrifying—there’s a long scar running across his face, like he was cut by a knife. Every night, when I lie down to sleep, he stands by my bed, staring at me. I’m so scared. I told Dad.

But when Dad found out, he went to find Mom first.

I hid in my room. I could only hear Mom’s screams—sharp and shrill—and Dad’s furious shouting.

When I turned around, the scarred man was sitting beside me.]

____________________________________________________________________________________

[December 2, 1918

Mom is gone.

Dad went mad.

He threw himself into the well like a lunatic.

I was terrified… yet somehow, not at all. The scarred man appeared again, and for the first time, he spoke to me.

“The living return, the dead emerge. Ghosts are on the move—do not look back.”]

____________________________________________________________________________________

[December 3, 1918

I think… I understand now. I think I can see them.]

____________________________________________________________________________________

When they finished reading, a cold shiver crept down everyone’s spine.

Qing Lin steadied himself, though unease lingered in his chest. “Based on this diary,” he said quietly, “we can infer that the bride possessed a unique ability—she could see what ordinary people couldn’t. Growing up in poverty, with a father who likely abused both her and her mother… it’s possible the spirits came to her defense in the end.”

Su Mingxuan clutched Chen Xiangchao’s arm tightly, his voice trembling. “Holy crap… this is terrifying. Bro, we need to find a way out—fast. I’ve got a really bad feeling that something’s about to crawl out of this place.”

“That’s true, but how do we get out? The door we came through doesn’t even have a keypad lock,” Chen Xiangchao said, scanning the scattered pages once more. His gaze landed on one that looked far newer than the rest.

“There’s another one here,” he murmured, picking it up.

[They often appear in certain places—

In mirrors.

On walls.

Some are bound in chains,

Some have no faces at all.

They hide and watch me in secret.

⚠ WARNING!! Do not provoke them! Do not provoke them! ⚠

Disturb their peace, and they will revolt.

If that happens, you must begin again.]

____________________________________________________________________________________

Zheng Qin frowned. “Don’t provoke them…? What does that even mean?”

Suddenly—

CRASH!

The shrill sound of shattering glass pierced the silence. Everyone flinched in alarm.

Qing Lin had seized the mirror from the dressing table and hurled it to the floor with all his strength. The mirror exploded into fragments, scattering like silver raindrops across the ground. Each shard reflected a distorted human silhouette—countless faces, countless shadows staring back.

Before anyone could react, Shen Xuzhi snatched up the hammer resting by the door. Without hesitation, he swung it hard, the impact cracking against the wall with a deafening thud.

Everyone gasped. “What are you doing?!”

Shen Xuzhi’s eyes gleamed with cold resolve. “Provoking the ghosts.”

Su Mingxuan blinked, stupefied. “Huh?!”

“Destroy their dwelling places,” Qing Lin said, “break the mirrors, deface the walls—throw everything into chaos. That’s the only way we’ll uncover the next clue.”

The moment his words fell, the entire room convulsed.

The bride’s chamber trembled as if caught in a storm. The furniture rattled and toppled over. The lights flickered erratically—white, then red, then white again—casting twisted shadows that danced across the walls.

A thick, coppery scent filled the air. The wedding photos hanging above the bed began to bleed, crimson tears dripping slowly from the bride’s smiling face.

Blood seeped through the walls and oozed from the cracks in the furniture, pooling across the wooden floor in dark, spreading patches. It crawled closer and closer, forcing them all backward.

“Ahhhh! Amitabha, Amitabha…” Su Mingxuan clasped his hands together, muttering a desperate prayer.

“The living return, the dead emerge. Ghosts are on the move—do not look back.”

A wild, deranged laugh echoed from above, just like the words scrawled in the diary.

Crimson blood began seeping from the corner of the wall, spreading slowly across the floor until the five of them were backed into a corner.

And worse—the ghost seemed furious. From within the growing pool of blood, countless skeletal hands clawed their way out, inching toward them.

“Help! Where the hell are we supposed to run?!” Zheng Qin yelled, still managing to joke even as the laughter filled the air. “What, are these skeleton hands on motors or something?!”

Qing Lin instinctively stepped in front of Shen Xuzhi, shielding him without realizing the crimson liquid creeping up behind him—nor the skeletal hand silently reaching out from the floor.

“Top student, behind you!”

Qing Lin glanced down—just in time to see a pale, bony hand snaking toward his ankle, its cold fingers about to seize him.

Before he could react, a strong force pulled him backward. Shen Xuzhi’s arm wrapped tightly around his waist, lifting him off the ground in one swift motion.

For a heartbeat, Qing Lin froze—his breath caught, his chest pressed against Shen Xuzhi’s. The man’s strength was effortless, his hold unyielding. Their faces were close enough that Qing Lin could hear the faint rhythm of his heartbeat, strong and steady against the chaos surrounding them. His own pulse quickened wildly.

He didn’t know if it was fear—or the way Shen Xuzhi’s embrace felt so firm, so sure.

Shen Xuzhi lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable. With one arm still around Qing Lin, he crushed the skeletal hand beneath his boot, bone shards scattering across the blood-slick floor. His dark eyes held a calm, almost chilling focus.

After a moment of silence, he turned to the person in his arms and said softly, “That was so scary.”

Qing Lin: “…”

The brief silence that followed was broken by Chen Xiangchao’s excited voice. “There’s a secret passage here!”

They all turned as he knelt beside the bridal bed, pulling aside a carved wooden panel. The floor creaked open to reveal a narrow tunnel descending into shadow.

“Everyone, get inside! Quickly!” Zheng Qin barked, his nerves stretched thin.

Without hesitation, the five of them crouched and scrambled into the hidden passage. Shen Xuzhi guided Qing Lin forward, steadying him before pushing him gently inside. He followed last, sealing the entrance behind them.

The darkness swallowed them whole.

They crawled for what felt like an eternity—hands brushing against damp stone, the air heavy with dust and decay—until at last, a faint glimmer appeared ahead.

When they emerged, the world around them had changed completely.

The scene before them was vast and barren, stretching endlessly like a road swallowed by darkness—so dark that not even a shadow could be seen.

Su Mingxuan’s voice broke the silence. “Where are we now?”

The air was bone-chilling, and the group instinctively huddled together for warmth.

Shen Xuzhi glanced at the three clinging to each other, then nudged Qing Lin’s arm with quiet sincerity. “Can you hug me too?”

Before Qing Lin could reply, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from somewhere deep within the darkness.

A dim red glow flickered into view—a lantern, swaying gently as it floated closer. Through the haze, two long processions began to emerge from the hazy fog, moving toward them at a steady, haunting pace.

The group stiffened. Su Mingxuan squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch.

Then came a voice—high-pitched, echoing with eerie laughter.

“Hahahahahaha—”

“At midnight’s third watch, the wishful bride arises. By crimson candle’s glow, the bridal canopy hangs.
The auspicious hour has come—the ghostly bride is wed.”

Chen Xiangchao and Su Mingxuan, two miserable souls united in fear, screamed in unison. “Help! We quit! We quit!”

Instantly, the world went silent. The light, the mist, the laughter—all gone, leaving only suffocating darkness.

Believing it was finally over, the two cautiously opened their eyes—only to find a pair of figures staring straight at them.

A golden boy and a jade maiden, their faces hidden behind fox masks, leaned in so close their breaths could be felt. Their voices were sweet, almost playful.

“Are you the bride?”

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

The scream tore through the air. Chen Xiangchao and Su Mingxuan’s legs gave out beneath them; they collapsed, trembling and pale, as if their souls had nearly fled their bodies.

Only then did Qing Lin get a proper look at the NPCs.

They were dressed like ceremonial attendants—a golden boy and a jade maiden, traditionally tasked with escorting a wedding palanquin. One held a red candle as thick as a child’s arm, its flame flickering unnaturally bright, while the other carried a lantern painted with intertwined dragons and phoenixes. The light within danced like something alive.

They looked almost human… yet their faces and movements were unnervingly stiff, like paper effigies made for the dead.

The golden boy and jade maiden smiled sweetly, their voices lilting like a chant. “Who are the bride and groom?”

“We’re doomed,” Su Mingxuan wailed. “This is a single-path quest! How are we supposed to know who the bride and groom are?”

Zheng Qin suggested teasingly, “Why don’t you be the groom, Xuanxuan? You’re the best at creating dramatic moments.”

“Don’t joke like that, Qin-jie! I’ll have a heart attack!” Su Mingxuan sputtered in terror.

Chen Xiangchao sighed. “But honestly, the only ones who fit the roles are Xuzhi and Qing Lin. Aren’t they practically a couple already?”

Shen Xuzhi spoke up with a calm, polite tone. “Not quite yet. I’m still pursuing him.”

Qing Lin: “…”

The moment the names Shen Xuzhi and Qing Lin were uttered, the golden boy and jade maiden burst into eerie laughter.

“Hehehe, exactly! The bride and groom~”

They circled the pair with unsettling delight, their smiles stretching wider as their gazes locked onto them.

“Quick, change into your wedding attire—”

Before either could protest, the golden boy and jade maiden seized them both. Then, from behind the palanquin, two faceless men stepped forward and offered wedding robes to Qing Lin and Shen Xuzhi.

Qing Lin was suddenly lifted off the ground by the bumbling attendant. His heart gave a sharp jolt as a red, gold-trimmed horse-faced mask was slipped over his head, followed by an ornate crown.

“Good heavens, no need to be nervous, you two! This is the perfect opportunity for newcomers to fully experience the escape room!” Zheng Qin called out encouragingly.

Seeing it wasn’t his turn, Su Mingxuan’s courage instantly returned. “Go for it, Top student! You too, Ah Zhi!”

The golden boy and jade maiden turned their gazes toward the remaining three. Their eerie, painted smiles widened.

“The living, step aside~~”

Their laughter was light and melodic, yet it chilled to the bone. In an instant, the three were bound and led away—each dragged to a separate chamber at the far end of the corridor.

Su Mingxuan: “……………”

“Why?! Why do we have to be stuck with single-path quests too?! Aaaah!!” His voice trailed off as he was dragged away.

When the chatter of the living vanished, silence swallowed the hall whole.

The corridor, dim and endless, was broken only by the two wedding palanquins gleaming in the dark. Each was draped in red silk, embroidered with oversized golden Double Happiness symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the candlelight.

Shen Xuzhi was dressed forcibly in a crimson ceremonial robe, its overlapping lapels glimmering with gold thread. Holding the candlelight steady, he followed its wavering glow toward where Qing Lin stood.

Amid the flickering red candles and fluttering brocade curtains, the figure beneath the veil lifted his head. The soft glow revealed Qing Lin’s pale yet refined features—his phoenix crown glimmering, his bridal makeup luminous beneath the gauze. The pearls hanging from his nine-tiered headdress swayed lightly, scattering tiny sparks of reflected light.

It truly resembled a wedding.

Shen Xuzhi’s gaze lingered—steady, unreadable. A faint, almost imperceptible light flickered deep within his dark eyes, as though something inside him stirred.

He thought silently—

When he and Qing Lin truly married one day, it had to be a traditional Chinese wedding.

Qing Lin had long grown accustomed to wearing ceremonial attire, but recalling the line from the bride’s diary, he reached out and gently lifted the red veil.

“Mr. Shen,” he said softly, “remember—do not look back. And when the light fades, do not speak.”

“Mister?” The golden boy and jade maiden let out a lilting laugh. “You’re about to be husband and wife. Shouldn’t you call him husband instead?”

Shen Xuzhi replied easily, his voice calm and low. Turning toward Qing Lin, he said, “I’ll remember, my lady.”

Qing Lin: “…”

He sighed softly, lowering the veil once more.

“The auspicious hour has arrived. The bride and groom shall enter the palanquin—”

The attendants pushed them forward, practically forcing them inside. The palanquin swayed violently before settling, creaking as it adjusted to their weight.

Only a faint light filtered through the red curtains. Qing Lin, enveloped in layers of silk, could see shadows shifting beyond the veil—a crimson world that felt both dreamlike and suffocating.

It was… unnerving.

He swallowed hard. The enclosed space felt designed to provoke dread, its silence heavier than any scream. Then, remembering Shen Xuzhi beside him, he called out softly, “Mr. Shen?”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a face suddenly poked out from behind the curtain. The little ghost wearing a fox mask let out a sharp shriek, “What did you just say?!”

“…?” Qing Lin froze, stunned for a long moment before his voice finally came out, trembling ever so slightly. “…Husband.”

Regaining composure after the shock, he drew in a breath and added, “Husband, are you all right?”

Shen Xuzhi’s reply came quickly, his tone steady. “I’m fine.”

He paused, then added deliberately, “Wife.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re getting married. Are you nervous?”

Qing Lin: “…”

At a time like this, he was actually thinking about that.

“Lift the palanquin—!”

The wedding palanquin began to rise, swaying gently as it was carried forward into the crimson-dark unknown.

The eerie background music rose at the perfect moment, intensifying the chilling, sinister air that filled the room.

The golden boy and jade maiden giggled, clapping their hands as they spun in circles, their laughter echoing as they began to chant:

“Marry the bride, marry the bride, Death as the dowry.

All living beings, keep your distance.

Lift the wedding palanquin, heave-ho, lift the wedding palanquin.

Blood and tears adorn the bride. A procession of ghosts at night.

Oh, how joyful, oh, how joyful. Parents reunited, Never to part again.”

If Su Mingxuan were the one inside that palanquin, he might have chosen to abandon the rest of the filming altogether.

Qing Lin realized this must be the very same ghostly wedding procession the villagers had once witnessed.

After some unknown stretch of time, the palanquin came to a stop.

“Groom and bride, step down—”

The golden boy and jade maiden drew back the curtain, guiding Shen Xuzhi and Qing Lin out one after the other.

Before them stood a towering altar, imposingly high, upon which two massive paper effigies sat, lavishly adorned in ornate attire.

“The wedding rites shall commence. All stand in solemn order.

Gentlemen, take your seats and await the ceremony.”

At the forefront stood a tall, slender figure wearing a fox mask—likely the officiant. “Groom, please lift the veil.”

Shen Xuzhi and Qing Lin faced each other, slowly raising the crimson veil.

It was only part of the escape room’s narrative, yet when Shen Xuzhi truly lifted Qing Lin’s veil, his heart gave a sudden, involuntary thump.

“A red silk ribbon joins two hands; the wedding ball binds their fates. The matchmaker seals three lifetimes, hand in hand they tread upon brocade

Qing Lin, familiar with ancient wedding customs, recognized it as the Tying the Silk Ribbon ritual, where the bride and groom jointly held an embroidered ball.

The process was intricate by tradition, but within this private setting, it had been greatly simplified. Then the fox-masked officiant declared:

“The couple bows to each other—”

Shen Xuzhi and Qing Lin turned once again to face each other.

It was hard to put into words what either of them felt at that moment.

Dim light flickered around them—candles burned low, crimson lanterns swayed gently, casting soft, hazy shadows across their faces. Yet the atmosphere remained steeped in unease.

“First bow: to become husband and wife.”

Qing Lin bowed with clasped hands, lowering his gaze, though he couldn’t help but steal a glance at Shen Xuzhi—those deep, piercing eyes holding him still.

“Second bow: to be of one heart forever.”

His gaze shifted, unbidden, to Shen Xuzhi’s thin, pale lips.

“Third bow: to honor mutual respect as husband and wife.”

Qing Lin’s lashes fluttered as he lowered his gaze once more, refusing to look again.

If he had, he might truly have believed in ghosts.

For such a ghost could enchant the heart, ensnare the mind, and bewitch the soul.

And that ghost, he suspected, bore the name Shen Xuzhi.

When the third bow ended, the demons and spirits gathered before the altar erupted in raucous applause, their laughter sharp and echoing.

Qing Lin thought with relief, Finally. They should give the next clue now.

But then the fox-masked officiant suddenly cried out:

“Ceremony complete—back into the palanquin, into the bridal chamber!”

Qing Lin: “!!”

They were actually going into the bridal chamber!