The summer night weighed heavy on Yuncheng's streets, heat clinging stubbornly to the air. Under the dim glow of the streetlights, a lone figure trudged slowly—Jiang Yichen, a tired university student returning home after another long day.
"Ugh… this weather's killing me. I just want to sleep for days," he muttered, shifting the heavy backpack on his shoulders.
As he passed a cracked sidewalk corner, something caught his eye. Red. A faint shimmer beneath the flickering light.
He stopped.
There, lying neatly in the dust, was a red envelope. Not an ordinary one—it was tightly bound with a scarlet thread, wound deliberately, like a gift waiting for someone. The glow it gave off was faint, almost unnatural.
Yichen crouched, curiosity outweighing caution. The envelope was heavier than it looked. A laugh slipped from his lips as he peeled it open.
Inside—money. Packed thick.
"Jackpot!" he grinned. "I must be the luckiest guy tonight."
But as he straightened, envelope in hand, the street around him seemed to shift. The air thickened. The night grew too quiet—unnaturally still.
What Jiang Yichen didn't know was that the moment he picked up that envelope, his fate was no longer his own.
The front door banged open as Yichen burst inside, grinning ear to ear. Sweat clung to him from the night heat, but the smile never left his face.
On the couch, his roommate and closest friend, Lu Nian, raised an eyebrow.
"What's with that stupid grin? Don't tell me the heat fried your brain."
"I'm fine," Yichen said, dropping his bag with a sigh and sprawling onto the couch. "Actually, I'm better than fine."
"Oh?" Lu Nian smirked. "Don't tell me Tian Tian finally said yes?"
Yichen laughed and shook his head. "Even better."
He reached into his pocket and held up the red envelope like a trophy.
"I found this on the street—full of cash! Someone must've dropped their lucky envelope. Guess I'm the lucky one now."
The color drained from Lu Nian's face. He sat up straight, eyes widening.
"Wait. You… you picked that up?!"
"Yeah?" Yichen frowned. "So what?"
"You idiot!" Lu Nian shot up from the couch, pointing at the thread wrapped around it. "That's not just any red envelope—it's tied with red thread!"
Yichen blinked, unimpressed. "So? It's just thread."
"Didn't your grandparents ever tell you the old stories?" Lu Nian's voice dropped, dead serious. "If you pick up a red envelope tied with thread, it means you've accepted a ghost marriage."
For a moment, silence hung heavy.
Then Yichen burst out laughing. "Seriously? A ghost wedding? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Who even believes that kind of superstition?"
"I do," Lu Nian shot back. "And you should too."
But Yichen was already standing, brushing it off. "Well, I don't. Tomorrow I'm taking Tian Tian out for a movie and shopping. She'll be way more impressed by my good luck than your creepy ghost story."
Lu Nian groaned, slumping back onto the couch. "You're hopeless."
"Now, I need a cold shower and twelve hours of sleep. Goodnight!" Yichen called, heading for his room—red envelope still clutched in his hand.
In his bedroom, Yichen opened the envelope fully. Money spilled out, but his gaze caught on something else: a name written neatly in the corner.
Wen Zhaoyan.
"Huh? Guess this belongs to someone named Wen Zhaoyan," he muttered. "Tsk, bad luck for him. Losing all this cash."
Setting the envelope and thread aside, he went to shower. Later, in clean pajamas, he sprawled on his bed, phone in hand.
Yichen: Tian Tian, want to watch a movie tomorrow?
Tian Tian: Sure.
Yichen grinned, tossing his phone aside. "Why do I feel so lucky today?"
Sleep came quickly.
Sometime in the night, he stirred. A strange sensation crawled along his skin, as though someone was leaning close… smelling him. He shifted, brushing it off, but then—
A warm tongue slid across his ear.
"Husband… you smell nice."
The husky whisper froze his blood.
Yichen's eyes flew open. He sat bolt upright, heart pounding. The room was still, dark, empty.
He rubbed at his ear. "What the hell…? Why does it feel like someone just licked me?" Shaking his head, he muttered, "Nian, your creepy stories are messing with my dreams," and lay back down.
But when his eyes opened again, he wasn't in his room anymore.
Red. Everything was red. The air was thick with the scent of roses. Red silk curtains swayed. Red lanterns glowed dimly. The bed beneath him was blanketed in petals—like a bridal chamber.
Yichen's breath caught.
Arms slid around his waist from behind.
He gasped, whipping his head around.
A tall, strikingly handsome boy was smiling at him—dressed in a traditional crimson wedding robe. His hold tightened around Yichen, warm and firm.
"W-Who are you?!" Yichen stammered.
The boy's gaze softened. "I'm Wen Zhaoyan," he murmured. "Your groom."
Yichen's eyes widened. "Groom? Are you insane? I'm a boy!"
"I don't care," Zhaoyan said simply, brushing his fingers across Yichen's cheek.
Before Yichen could react, a veil of red silk dropped over his head. His breath hitched as a glowing red thread snaked around his finger—then coiled around Zhaoyan's as well, binding them together.
"No… no, what is this?!" Yichen's voice broke into a scream.