Gloves? Gloves… what was this about gloves? She hated the gloves she wore. She hated her dress. She hated everything about this. Her hatred made the light burn brightly before it went dim again. What was he doing, looking at her body like that? She was up here. She was right here.
It seemed she had caught his attention, anyhow. Lingxin came down from the ceiling. Why are you looking down at the casket? Look at me. I’m here. Look at me! she thought. Frustration and urgency spurred her on. She put her hand on the lid of the casket to push it shut, but it phased right through. She made noises of frustration, though they were audible only to her. She tried again, again, and again, her hand phasing through each time. Finally, she stopped and took a breath. She set both of her translucent hands on the lid, and pushed. The casket shut over her body with a soft creak.
Sudden elation filled her. I did it. She rushed over to Jiahao, looking at him closely. She tried using sign language, to see if his eyes could catch the movements. I’m here, she signed, You need to see me. I need your help.
Jiahao kept looking down at the coffin then up at the light. What is going on? The last moment he glanced at the coffin was when it suddenly shut closed. He stood frozen with his jaw dropped. The lid just closed right in front of his eyes and he didn't do it. No accidental bumping into it…Nothing.
There wasn't enough time in between moments for him to collect his thoughts. A small breeze of wind wooshed in front of his face then that's when he saw her. Jiahao jumped back. The back of his head bumped against the wall, making a dull thud sound. He whinced. Rubbing the spot, he slowly opened his eyes to see Lingxin. Wait, it is her, right? He's not seeing things? Is he going crazy? Has he finally lost it?
Not a single muscle within him moved. As he watched Lingxin move her hands, he started to shake his head. "I don't know what you're saying. I don't understand. I-" Jiahao paused. There was only one sign he picked up on. Help. It was one Uncle Da had taught him when he was very little. Somehow it just stuck with him. "Help?" He asked while trying to sign it with his shaking hands. "With what?"
She was faint, a whispery form of the woman she was. Her veil hid most of her face, though her white irises could be seen glowing through it. Her white clothing made her look like a cloud of mist. She wasn’t able to fully focus on his lips, so she kept signing those phrases over and over again until she caught understanding in his eyes.
Help, She repeated. Lingxin could see that she had him a little on edge, so she tried signing singular words to see if that would do anything. Pencil. Paper. Please. She nodded as Jihao tried the sign for help.
Jiahao shook his head, trying to understand the words her hands were signing. Help is the only one he knew. He squinted trying to figure out what the other ones meant. Nothing. There isn't time to just stand around and wait for the words to come to his mind. Dropping his backpack on the floor, he looked for a notebook and pen. If Lingxin was able to close the casket, maybe she could write down what she needs to say. It's not the best way of thinking, but it could work.
With a blue pen and notebook opened to a fresh page, he held it out to her. They're lucky this time. There won't always be a notebook and pen on hand in case they need to talk; he'll have to learn how to sign somehow. He won't become fluent over night, but he could try. "Here."
Lingxin didn’t know if he understood her or not, but either way she got the pen and paper. She went to take the items, but her hand went through them. Curling her lip in frustration, she tried again and with the same result. She sighed and decided to just grab the pen. This worked better, as she was able to lift it in her hand without having to try a second time. She let Jihao hold the notebook for her as she moved to write.
Did you say your name was Zhang Jihao? The words seemed to write themselves. Without waiting for answer, she continued, Whatever my parents told you about me is probably bullshit. Listen, I was murdered. My parents hired someone to murder me just because I couldn’t find a husband and I was a burden to them. Her veil was getting in the way, so she moved it over her head. Her face was more clear now, her eyes blood red. I hate them. They need to die. And I need to find the man who killed me and kill him too. But I can’t do that without your help. I think—
The pen suddenly fell through her hand. Thankfully, it just fell back on the notebook and not all the way to the floor, but it still frustrated her. Lingxin growled softly, the sound echoing through the room. She tried grabbing the pen again.
"It's okay, you got it." He stared at her for a bit, watching in amazement as she began to write on the notebook. Then he tilted his chin down to read along with what Lingxin wrote. The right corner of the page crinkled as his hands tightly gripped the notebook. Murdered. She was murdered? That can be…Her parents said she died of a stroke. He thought it was unusual since Lingxin was only 25, but he had passed on the suspicion thinking that sometimes younger people get strokes. It's unusual.
Jiahao looked back at Lingxin. With the veil moved back, it was easier to see her face. He would've gazed st her features if he wasn't so captivated and slightly scared by her crimson eyes. They weren't like that before. His Adam's apple quivered as he kept on reading. What does Lingxin want him to do?
Pointing his right index finger up, he took the pen and began to write on a clean page. My name is Zhang Jiahao. He drew a house next to his name since the character "Jia" means house. Jiahao's hand shook as he tried to put the tip of the pen against the page. I will do whatever you need me to do. I am with you. Okay? He turned the pen back over to her.
She drew her hand away from the pen and watched him. Her eyes are still red, flickering from Jihao to the paper. Lingxin wanted to believe him, but she was feeling rather distrustful at the moment. Was he really with her? Would he really do what she asked of him? She took the pen, and was able to hold it steady.
Thank you, she wrote. Frankly, I’m sorry that you were pulled into this, but you will be useful to me. I think I am tied to this house. I can’t leave. But I believe that once we are wed, I will be tied to you instead, and I will be able to follow you. I’m not sure what will happen after that. I just want them dead. I don’t really have a plan. I want them dead now. But I don’t want you to be in trouble. But they need to die. They need to die. They need to die… She kept writing the sentence over and over again, as if in a trance. Her eyes burned. She seethed, her form quivering. She only stopped when the pen suddenly fell through her hand again.
Lingxin stopped, her eyes fading back to white. She picked up the pen again, writing, I just want peace.
Jiahao stared blankly ahead either at Lingxin or at the wall. His lips trembled. Not necessarily out of fear. He wasn't afraid of Lingxin. No, not at all. In the back of his mind, he wasn't sure what was going on; he wasn't sure if he truly will be helpful for Lingxin, if he is the one. All he is is just some bike repairman. Seeing her eyes flash red was a sight that he'd never expected to see. His eyes looked down at the notebook, scanning everything that she wrote. Is there really something that he can do for her?
He took the pen from her. It's okay. We can be of use for each other. When we get married, you'll be part of my family then, right? We'll be buried together. You won't have to be with them anymore. I His shaky hand messed up the character. Once he forced it to steady, he continued. I will help you in whatever way you need me to. You will get your peace. You will be able to rest for the rest of eternity. You will be safe. I promise this to you.
Turning the notebook around for her to read, Jiahao held the pen out. He doesn't know anything. He doesn't know what's going on. There are only two things he knows: he is pretty good at keeping promises and he wants to give Lingxin peace. He can do it.
A slow sigh escaped her, chilling the room. Her eyes stayed white. Lingxin took the pen and wrote quickly back. Yes, I’ll be apart of your family, but not in the eyes of the law. You should know the wedding is not legally binding. It would also be unnecessary, if I didn’t need help carrying out my revenge. She paused here, considering what to write next. Thank you. I will hold you to your promise. But I think—
“Mr. Zhang?” It was Teng Xiuying, the mother’s voice. It was muffled by the door. She didn’t open, likely out of respect for Jihao’s privacy. “Everything is ready. Please come and join us.”
(Sorry it’s short)
(it's ok!!)
"Oh…Ah…I see…" He couldn't resist audibly responding. This marriage isn't legally binding, but his parents will be over the moon about it. Nevertheless, Jiahao will take it seriously as much as he will with helping Lingxin. He isn't one to break a promise, not one like this.
His shoulders instantly grew stiff. Jiahao was about to drop the notebook when he heard Ms. Teng at the door. It almost slid from his hands before he managed to catch it. The cover flipped over the pages of messages. Gently, he placed his backpack down then dropped his notebook inside. There were faint jingle sounds from some tools and bike chains inside when he slung it over his shoulder. He looked up at Lingxin, giving a small, yet awkward, smile. Then Jiahao opened the door. "Sorry for the wait, Ms. Teng," He said while stepping out.
(Sorry, I should have mentioned that her voice could be heard through the door. She didn’t open it to see him or anything)
(It's all good, thanks for the clarification. I can edit it as soon as I can.)
(Um, were you waiting on me? Bc I’ve edited)
(Sorry! I've edited mine)
Lingxin, of course, did not hear anything. The only reason she stopped writing was because Jiahao fumbled with the notebook. She stared, confused as he shut it and put it in his bag. Had something happened?
When he opened the door, her incorporeal form quivered. Ah, right. They still had to do the ceremony. Or however this worked. She honestly didn’t care, and waved her hand to Jihao to indicate that she would not follow him out.
Mrs. Teng took him out to where the rest of the family was. On the table in the middle of the room was a small effigy of Lingxin, a doll-looking thing made out of newspaper and wood. Beside it was a framed photo of her, alive of course. What followed was fairly similar to a typical wedding, although Jihao was given black gloves to wear instead of white. Gifts were given (though since this was unexpected for the groom, he was told that gifts were expected in return), rice and dumplings were served, as well as other courses, along with a tea ceremony. Jihao was made to take photos with the effigy as well. Throughout all of this, the effigy of Lingxin was treated as the real thing, a real bride participating in the proceedings and saying the vows.
Meanwhile, the ghost of Xie Lingxin waited. Though she couldn’t hear anything, she could sense that there was a lot of activity. She was calm, even smirking to herself. They all thought this was to keep her spirit quiet, to prevent the bad luck from descending on them. Little did they know that this would allow her to bring all the bad luck she could muster right to their door.
Jiahao had no idea what was going on. His mind was trying to wrap around everything. Believe him. If you asked him anything about everything that just happened, the best he could do was stutter. As a matter of fact, anytime he had to speak during the ceremony that's all he ever did: stutter. He let Mrs. Teng lead him wherever he needed to be. Somehow the black gloves appeared on his hands. He stood next to an effigy of Lingxin the whole time. To be honest, Jiahao only looked at the effigy when it was necessary. Throughout the whole ceremony, he was either staring at the floor or looking for the real Lingxin.
This was all supposed to keep Lingxin's soul at rest, but he knew that this wouldn't do anything. Whatever plan Lingxin was thinking of, that would bring her peace. Jiahao really was unsure if he was going to be helpful. He had no opinion of Lingxin's family aside from everything that he already knew. It made going through the ceremony strange. The whole getting married to a ghost bit wasn't the part that made him keep his eyes away from Lingxin's parents. But knowing that Lingxin had a plan reassured him enough. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but he was eager to see what's next in store for everyone.
Of course at the end of things, there were no documents to sign, but Jiahao was given rings. One for him, one for Lingxin. After they both had one on their fingers, they would be officially husband and wife.
The rings were very simple, as Lingxin’s parents likely couldn’t afford much more. They were both silver bands with the year carved into them. Mrs. Teng encouraged the young groom to go back to the room with Lingxin’s casket and place one ring on her finger. “You can even kiss her if you want, she is rather pretty,” she said. A faint smile grew on her face; there was a sense of coldness to it.
Lingxin did occasionally look out to see how the ceremony was progressing. She rolled her eyes at how pointless it all was, and thought the effigy of her was especially distasteful. But it was no matter. Even if Jiahao did stutter, she could appreciate his ability to go along with it without question. When she looked out and saw the rings, she let put a breath. Finally, this was nearly over.
While all of this wasn't really official, he loved the rings. Honestly, he didn't expect to get married to anyone dead or alive. Jiahao thought that he was too awkward to be someone's groom. Seriously though, he loved the way the rings looked. They were simple but looked lovely. It fit snug on his finger too. He was going to say thanks but his mouth hung open as Mrs. Teng was talking to him.
"Oh…oh…oh…Oh well, okay," He said while nervously smiling at Mrs. Teng, "I will after I take care of this." Jiahao held up the ring before making his way to the room. He wasn't going to. Lingxin didn't know him, and he didn't even ask for permission. It felt weird putting the ring on her given he didn't ask for her permission too. He was careful though even more careful than he would be with a customer's bike. (Rest assured, Jiahao was always cautious.) The fact that doing so would help Lingxin and her plan was enough to comfort him. He didn't know what was next, but that's okay. At least he's doing his part.
Lingxin watched as Jiahao returned, lifted the casket lid, and put the ring on the corpse’s finger. It was no matter if he asked or not. She approved of it from the beginning, and now, they were finally at the good part. Once the ring was in place, Lingxin felt something shift inside herself. She almost felt giddy. She was no longer stuck in one place, and finally, her revenge was set in motion.
She went over to her new husband, waving a hand in front of his face. Once she got his attention, she tried communicating what had happened. She pointed to herself, then to him, then hooked her pinkies together. They were linked. Linked. Together, she signed. She could go wherever he went, now. And now, they had to get out of here. She didn’t want to stay any longer than she had to. We need to leave, she tried signing again. She looked over to where his bag was, knowing the notebook was inside. Maybe he would understand this time, without writing.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he tried to make sense of what she was saying. Heavens, he really needs to learn sign language. Jiahao blankly stared at Lingxin. Seeing how she linked her pinkies together, she must have been talking about how they were connected in a way now. Glancing down at the ring on his finger, he sighed.
When he looked back at Lingxin, he noticed her looking over at his backpack. Slowly, he was adding it together. Between her eagerness, being linked, and the backpack….Jiahao's eyes almost popped out of his head. Carefully, he closed the lid on the coffin then rushed over to get his backpack. He made sure to bow goodbye to Lingxin's parents out of courtesy then stepped outside. The first thing he did after the door closed was take a deep breath. He was still trying to grasp everything that was happening.
