Chapter 48: The Surprise Appearance of Kun People.

“Remember! You must keep our promise!”

Li Tianze’s voice was urgent.
He shot to his feet, so rushed he knocked over a chair with a clatter, his movements betraying panic, as if he’d sensed something.

Practically bolting to the door, he stopped just as his foot crossed the threshold, whipping his head back to add quickly, his eyes pleading:

“Sister! If someone asks… asks if I was here, please, please say ‘no.’ He was never here. Say you know nothing. It’s… better for both of us.”

He gave the red veil a deep, lingering look.

“I’m going! Keep the promise!”

His words barely landed before his figure vanished like a phantom into the thick night, gone without a trace.

Whoosh—whoosh—

Outside, a ferocious wind surged without warning, no longer a mere breeze but a cacophony of wailing spirits, slamming against the doors and windows with bang! bang! bang!

The door rattled violently, as if it might fly off its hinges.

“I’m… alone again…”
Xie Qiyang clutched her wedding dress tighter, its cold fabric failing to dispel the chill creeping into her heart.

Li Tianze’s warning echoed in her ears.
Someone would come asking… Should she heed him and lie, or…

Before the thought could settle, the howling wind outside stopped abruptly, as if choked by an invisible hand.

An absolute, eerie silence descended, more unnerving than the storm.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three clear, rhythmic knocks rang out in the dead quiet of the room.

So soon?

A chill shot from her spine to her skull.

Who would come this late?
Li Tianxing wouldn’t knock, Ye Zhuxian even less so, and Li Tianze had just left.

She held her breath, body rigid, resolved not to respond.

Knock, knock, knock…

The knocks came again, stubborn, identical in rhythm and force.

The unseen visitor was patient, knocking persistently, silently.

Finally, the relentless tapping eroded the last of Xie Qiyang’s forced calm.

Taking a sharp breath, she mustered her courage and called out, voice trembling:

“Who… who’s there?!”

The knocking stopped.

No answer.

Only a grating creak as the wooden door, untouched by any visible force, slowly swung inward.

A vague figure stood silently at the threshold.
The flickering candlelight seemed unable to illuminate them, casting an even deeper shadow at their feet.

No footsteps sounded, yet she sensed them approaching, a faint breeze stirring her veil as they drew near.

Like a specter, they glided to the room’s center, stopping just steps from her bed.

A voice spoke, calm, almost… gentle?

“Has Li Tianze been here?”

It was Ye Zhuxian’s voice—same tone, same cadence.

But something was wrong.

Wrong, absolutely wrong.
No matter how perfect the imitation, this wasn’t Ye Zhuxian—why wouldn’t she recognize her?

The veil blocked her sight, but Xie Qiyang felt a cold gaze pierce through the red fabric, locking onto her.

Fear fueled her curiosity.
Her right hand trembled slightly, and with the smallest motion, she slowly lifted the veil’s edge, creating a tiny sliver of vision.

Her gaze cautiously lowered.

In the flickering candlelight, she didn’t see a robe’s hem.

She saw… feet.

Not human feet.

Gaunt, covered in rough, ashen scales like old tree bark, stained with dark red, blood-like grime between the crevices.
The ankles were shrouded in loose fabric.

They were… chicken claws!

Black, yellowed talons like rusted hooks, rooted in thick, yellowed keratin.

The claws stood steady, silent, on the cold black stone floor, their knobby joints twisted.

One talon seemed to sense her peeking, scraping the floor with a faint, teeth-grinding scrape.

Xie Qiyang’s pupils contracted.

What the hell? Chicken feet? Talking, shoe-wearing chicken feet?!

A Kunpeng?!

“No… no!”
She blurted out, voice tinged with guilt.

Instinctively, she followed Li Tianze’s plea, lying to this… thing.

“Hm…”
The creature seemed satisfied.

“Little miss, don’t be nervous. I’m the village’s night watchman. By custom, the groom mustn’t see the bride before the wedding.”

“Such an… honest girl.”

Xie Qiyang’s eyes locked onto the scaly claws, her body rigid.

“Then…”
The voice spoke again, and the claws subtly shifted direction, their rough talons scraping the floor with a scalp-crawling sound.
“I won’t disturb you further…”

“Wishing you… a happy wedding.”

“T-Thank you…”
Xie Qiyang replied reflexively, her voice shaking.

No footsteps, no door closing.

She sat frozen, staring through the veil’s slit at the claws, still motionless.

One second… two…

The claws remained, unmoving.

Just as she thought this Kunpeng might stay forever, the claws… vanished, melting into the shadows without warning.

No light shifted, no space rippled—they were simply gone, as if they’d never been.

Only a faint, lingering stench, like poultry mixed with something foul, proved the encounter wasn’t a dream.

Xie Qiyang collapsed, letting the veil fall, wrapping herself back in its red cocoon.

Her body trembled like a sieve, teeth chattering, cold sweat soaking her inner clothes.

What kind of wedding is this? A ghost marriage? Why else would something so sinister show up?
She muttered inwardly, dread pooling in her heart.