She married in a blaze of glory at seventeen, but ran home on her very first night.
“Mom, there’s a ghost in there.” Wang Ruike gasped as she spoke. She watched a pen write on a sheet of paper, with no one controlling it. She knew it wasn’t a miracle. It was a ghost.
Wang Ruike had always been destined for a short life. Born on an yin day at an yin hour, she could see everything ordinary people could not.
There was no one in the house, and no one came near it. Everything seemed so eerie. Only the man who appeared now and then puzzled Wang Ruike. He was so cold to the touch, he seemed more dead than alive.
The midnight knocking, the piano music at midnight, the conversations at dawn: they made the whole house increasingly terrifying. There was no one there, and yet sounds filled the place.
One dangerous encounter revealed everything to Wang Ruike. The sight of that hideous face terrified her.
“Don’t hurt me. Please, let me go. Don’t…” she stammered in the corner, trembling with fear.
“You’re my bride. I would never hurt you.” Those were his words. Then he disappeared.
Wang Ruike had never imagined this would happen: she had married into a haunted house and wed a ghost.
She had a home, but could not return to it. She could only stay in this house haunted by ghosts.
Danger lurked at every turn, yet she always managed to escape unharmed.
She knew it was because of him.
She wanted to see him, but she was afraid, because he wasn’t human.
Blood became the link that set their love story in motion.
