Chapter 17: The Origin of the Bridal Ghost

The glasses-wearing boy’s confident tone sent a ripple of excitement through everyone’s hearts.

“What? That ghost... today is its seventh day after death?”

The hooded youth tightened his coat, fear gripping his heart.

At that moment, the bald uncle hurriedly added from beside them, “I just remembered—the contact address on the missing person notice is the South Wind Garden!”

“...You knew that all along? Why didn’t you say anything earlier? What good is it to bring it up now?” the hooded youth snapped angrily, pointing at the bloodstains inside the car.

Seeing his reaction, the bald uncle put on a stern face and said, “I’m not Superman. I only glanced at it back then. Who can remember every detail? Didn’t those people who died see it too? Why didn’t they remember?”

“...Glasses, you didn’t know either? I remember you were the one who stared longest at that missing person notice,” the hooded youth, unable to argue with the bald man, turned to provoke the glasses boy.

They hadn’t exchanged names; this man simply borrowed the nickname that Hu Xiao had just used for the glasses boy.

Sensing the hooded youth’s ill intent, the glasses boy took a seat in front of Hu Xiao, crossed his legs, and said, “I didn’t see anything. I just thought the photo was a little creepy, so I looked at it a few more times.”

“Tch, who believes that? You just didn’t want to help,” the hooded youth sneered at his denial.

The glasses boy ignored the provocation.

“Believe it or not.”

He had indeed sensed something off about the photo back then. The woman in it suddenly came alive—on what was originally a black-and-white photo, the woman’s smiling mouth suddenly curved into a sinister grin directed at him, as if she had set her sights on him.

In such a situation, how could he have dared to look at the text on the notice? He was afraid that staring too long would attract the ghost’s attention, so he quickly looked away.

It was only after the bridal ghost left that he realized the ghost’s clothing matched the outfit the woman wore in the photo.

The black-and-white image on the notice and the red garment of the bridal ghost were somewhat different, and the glasses boy didn’t recall this immediately until the bald uncle’s words jogged his memory.

Suddenly, the bald uncle hesitated and said, “I just remembered something.”

Seeing the others look at him, he continued, “The notice said the bride disappeared after boarding a bus, and that her expression before boarding was very strange... Could it be that the bride got on bus number 404?”

At these words, the glasses boy’s eyes widened suddenly. It seemed he recalled something—the fact they had all overlooked and hadn’t yet remembered.

He asked the bald uncle gravely, “Uncle, when the bus suddenly jolted just now, didn’t you say the bus hit someone?”

Hearing this, everyone felt a chill sweep down their spine.

The raindrops outside mercilessly pelted the bus, the windows fogged over, and the scenery outside distorted through the rain.

With no light inside the bus, from afar it looked like an empty vehicle.

The bald uncle seemed to recall the terrifying scene he had witnessed before. Trembling, he glanced toward the front window.

Seeing no woman in a white dress there, he felt slightly relieved.

Knowing the danger was far from over, he quickly replied, “Yes, I saw it with my own eyes. A white figure suddenly appeared on the road. Before I could see clearly, the bus hit it.”

“Then... then a woman in a white dress suddenly appeared pressed against the front window. She was covered in blood, which flowed down from her head. She... she even smiled at me—that kind of eerie smile.”

“Then I blinked, and the woman disappeared. There was no blood on the window, but I really saw it. I remember it clearly even now!”

After speaking, he hurried over to the glasses boy and pleaded, “I’ve told you everything I know. Please help me—I won’t be a burden to you.”

Seeing the bald uncle huddle beside the glasses boy, the hooded youth sneered.

This glasses-wearing guy didn’t seem trustworthy. Only fools would think they could get help from him.

If you really wanted to survive, you had to rely on yourself.

Then he noticed the girl sitting behind the glasses boy hadn’t said a word, so he asked, “Little sister, have you awakened your Qi controller? Do you need a host? I’ve got extras and can sell them to you cheap.”

Hu Xiao, who was looking at the seat beside her, was interrupted and quickly said, “No thanks, I don’t need a host.”

The light orb that had been thrown into her right eye back then might have been the host they mentioned, though it was unclear why she was different from the others.

The hooded youth, undeterred by the refusal, pressed on, “Is it too expensive? You’re pretty, so I’ll give you a discount—20% off. Once you succeed in awakening, you’ll be able to control ghost Qi. What a bargain!”

“Thanks, but I really don’t need it,” Hu Xiao said firmly, her gaze once again drifting to the empty seat beside her.

Seeing Hu Xiao’s persistent refusal, the hooded youth curled his lips, losing interest. Without any benefit to be gained from her, he no longer wished to engage.

After all, he was an experienced player. Usually, new players would fawn over him, but today he had tried to be friendly, only for this rookie to act as if she were in great demand.

Suddenly, the bald uncle opened his mouth in a shout, pointing at the seat beside Hu Xiao, too frightened to say more.

“What’s the big deal? Don’t be so jumpy,” the hooded youth said, frowning as he looked at the empty seat next to Hu Xiao and then back at the bald uncle, who was staring wide-eyed and pointing.

Was this really a time for jokes? Was the uncle losing his mind?

The glasses boy followed the uncle’s finger to the seat beside Hu Xiao. It was empty.

“Uncle, what’s wrong?” The glasses boy pushed up his glasses, looking at the bald uncle who had not responded since his outburst.

The uncle remained frozen in his posture, unchanging.

Growing impatient, the glasses boy thought to himself: What is wrong with this guy? Was he just pretending to be crazy earlier? Maybe there was no woman in the white dress at all; perhaps the uncle had made it all up just to scare them?

Among the hundreds of players the glasses boy had encountered, there were indeed such boring types.

Some players liked to put on acts, fabricating stories about ghosts no one else saw, only to mock others afterward—a pointless troublemaker.

But such players were usually powerful Qi controllers. This weak uncle didn’t seem like someone with a mind so disturbed.

What was really going on?