A box of blood-stained rouge, a broken dressing mirror, a ghostly marriage that spanned a century. When Lin Mo pushed open the mottled wooden door of the old house, the gears of fate began to turn. The boiling rouge in the carved copper box, the faceless bride in red, the long black hair wrapped around her ankles in the mirror, the winding river of blood on the floor, and the fingernails engraved with birth dates, all of this. Reminding her that the dust-covered curse has never gone away. When the dressing bell rings at midnight. When the dead soul under the red wedding dress wakes up. When she smiles at you in the mirror, can you still tell who is the bride and who is the dead soul? A fate that cannot be escaped. An entanglement that spans life and death. When the truth is revealed, the bloody wedding has just begun.
