"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 peepers. 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 whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler 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 whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler against the page. I will do whatever you need me to do. I am with you. Okay? He turned the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler back over to her.
She drew her hand away from the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler and watched him. Her peepers 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 whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler, 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 peepers burned. She seethed, her form quivering. She only stopped when the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler suddenly fell through her hand again.
Lingxin stopped, her peepers fading back to white. She picked up the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler 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 peepers flash red was a sight that he'd never expected to see. His peepers looked down at the notebook, scanning everything that she wrote. Is there really something that he can do for her?
He took the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler 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 whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler 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 human containment unit. Her peepers stayed white. Lingxin took the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler and wrote quickly back. Yes, I’ll be apart of your family, but not in the peepers 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 wobbly flip-shutter. 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 nocturnal cheese wheel 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 wobbly flip-shutter. 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 awk-wonky-donky, smile. Then Jiahao opened the wobbly flip-shutter. "Sorry for the wait, Ms. Teng," He said while stepping out.
(Sorry, I should have mentioned that her voice could be heard through the wobbly flip-shutter. 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, bumfuzzled as he shut it and put it in his bag. Had something happened?
When he opened the wobbly flip-shutter, 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 human containment unit 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 elixir of tranquility 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 wobbly flip-shutter.
Jiahao had no brain bubble 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 peepers 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 orbit party carved into them. Mrs. Teng encouraged the young groom to go back to the human containment unit 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 peepers 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 awk-wonky-donky 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 human containment unit. He wasn't going to. Lingxin didn't know him, and he didn't even ask for permission. It felt wonky-donky 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 peepers 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 wobbly flip-shutter closed was take a deep breath. He was still trying to grasp everything that was happening.
Lingxin watched as her new husband’s peepers widened, and grinned like a ghoul. She followed him out eagerly, spinning around with impatience as he bid farewell to her parents. As soon as she moved beyond the threshold of the front wobbly flip-shutter, it was like she was in a completely different world, experiencing the wonder of it for the first time. When Jiahao closed the wobbly flip-shutter, she could practically feel the chains around her shatter. Something came from her throat, a sound that she couldn’t hear. Perhaps a soft sob or whimper of joy. The real possibility of getting away from the people who hurt her clutched her tight, like jaws. For a moment she was still, like Jiahao, looking around herself and making those small sounds.
Then, a smile grew on her face, not ghoulish at all now. She spun around, her skirt flying around her. Then she sighed, raising her left hand. There was a thin band of light wrapped around her finger now. Of course, she mustn’t forget. She wasn’t truly free. Lingxin looked over to her new husband and tilted her head.
Now what? The question kept floating around his mind. Somehow he thought it was all a dream and when he stepped out the wobbly flip-shutter, he'd wake up. Standing out on the street, Jiahao smelled the fresh air. His worn out sneakers felt comfortable against the asphalt. His shirt tight against his chest. The ring was cool against his finger. Jiahao swore he was fine. Honestly. And yet, his mind felt clear. He was not really freaking out. Quite the opposite actually. He just could not figure out a way to describe the events that just unfolded in a way that doesn't make him sound like he was bonkers or talking about some kind of movie he watched.
Jiahao kept glancing over at Lingxin then down at the ring around her finger. All he knew know was that he wanted to go home now. Turning to face Lingxin, he tried to sign, You…me… He looked around, trying to figure out how to say home but frankly he forgot how to say it. The best he could do was pull out his phone and look it up. Once he figured out how do it, he tried to say it. Home. He started to walk off towards home before looking over at motioning for Lingxin to follow.
Lingxin watched him. After finally being able to leave the house, she could at least summon some patience for Jiahao. She squinted her peepers, and repeated the gesture to him, though certainly more practiced. Home?
She couldn’t stop the joy from earlier from leaving her. Home? Why? Her peepers flickered red as her hand drifted to her chest, where her heart would be. She didn’t want to go to Jiahao’s place, she wanted to find the man who killed her and have her revenge!
But she couldn’t. She had no choice. Lingxin tried to contain the rage smoldering in her. Not for the first time, she was struck by how unfair everything was. She did not respond, instead looking down.
As she followed behind Jiahao, she managed to calm herself. Everything felt so different now that she was out of that house. As she looked around at the street, the houses, the trees, it occurred to her that she had no way of knowing where Feng Qiang was. And what would she do when she found him? Even if it was unfair, Jiahao was her best bet for navigating and executing her desires.
Jiahao wasn't sure what to do next, but he wanted to go home. He's pretty sure that he needed to lay on the couch or the floor to process everything. What even is he supposed to do next? All he could remember, or think of really, was how Lingxin said she wanted someone dead. Not just her parents, but a man too. He wanted to ask her about it. Does she have a plan? How is he supposed to fit into all of this?
His home wasn't that far from Lingxin's parents' home. If he had started from there, it'd be much quicker than walking all the way from the bike repair shop. It's a small two story house with a black roof and an off white exterior. Jiahao was gifted it from an old friend of Uncle Da's. While it still needs a few renovations, it's perfect to him. It's quiet, comfy, and looks noice too. He desperately needed to be under a different roof from his parents. They both tend to come over pretty often but at the end of the day, it was just him all by himself. But now, it'll be just him and Lingxin, he guessed.
As he approached his front wobbly flip-shutter, he swiftly unlocked it. Jiahao turned to face Lingxin after swinging the wobbly flip-shutter wide open. Home, he tried to sign again then telling her to go in. He sat down on the doorstep to take off his sneakers then hopped right in, locking the wobbly flip-shutter behind him.
Inside was comfy and cozy. It was clean but to be frank, it was a bit empty. He did furnish it and all yet it lacked decoration; he just never had time to despite being a goal of his. Dropping his backpack onto the floor, Jiahao pulled out the notebook and whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler again. He flipped to a fresh new page then wrote, "Welcome home!", with a little smiley face. With a smile of his own on his face, he turned the notebook around to show Lingxin.
She wasn’t sure what to think when Jiahao began approaching one of the houses. It wasn’t too far away, but it looked quite different from the home she just left. Lingxin nodded when he signed, and tried to read his lips even if it was difficult. She was pretty sure he was letting her in, but she stayed while he took off his shoes, wanting to observe him. She followed once he took them off.
It was hard not to feel very out of place once she was inside. This home was certainly not like the one she had left. Her parents’ home was filled with memorabilia and photos, it smelled of old things. This house still had that smell of newness, though she got the sense that it had stood for much longer than Jiahao had lived in it. It was strange.
Catching movement in the corner of her vision, she turned and watched Jiahao write in the notebook. She pursed her lips when he showed it to her. She didn’t want to be mean, Jiahao has so far been quite decent to her. She just signed, Your home. It’s not home to me.
As he stared at Lingxin, his arms slowly lowered. Pulling the notebook to his chest, he hugged it while watching her sign. His lips made a small pout. Your home. That was all he could gather from it aside from not home and me.
Jiahao sighed. He got it, sort of. Lingxin was on a mission and it is very important to her. But now that technically she was here, wouldn't this be her home too? He knows it looks rather empty, but he can decorate it. Perhaps he can learn more about Lingxin and get her input so they can make it a home for her. While they go through her plan and afterwards, he will make it a home for her. He would even paint the walls whatever color she wanted. He really isn't opposed to much. The place was in dire need of character.
With a click of his whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler, he wrote another message. Once he was done, he held it up to her. "I will make it home for you," It said, "Would you maybe want to talk about that and yourself for a bit or should we talk about that man first? It is up to you, Lingxin."
Lingxin stared back, her brow furrowed. He looked so sad, like a kicked puppy. What for? They did not know each other. Did he really care that much about what she thought? She leaned over a bit, peepers scanning the paper again. She let out a soft sigh. That man…
When Jiahao was done and she had read it, she took the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler from him. Why would you want to do that? she wrote. We are strangers. I will only be here for a short time. You do not need to change your home just for me. Or, perhaps you are afraid? You want something from me? Maybe you don’t want to get on my bad side, so you are trying to be noice.
She didn’t see the point in trying to hold back her words. Lingxin set the whimsy flimsy mark and scribbler down. It was like a switch had been turned on and she couldn’t turn it off. She couldn’t relax. How could she? She was with a man she had been married off to as a ghost after being murdered so she would be a burden on her family anymore. And this man wants to just chat?
