Morning light filtered through the mist as Hwan Do stumbled from their tent, blinking sleep from his eyes. A piece of eel jerky clung stubbornly to his cheek like a bizarre beauty mark. Across the campsite, Zhu Bao sat honing a cleaver with unsettling focus.
"You're up early," Hwan Do yawned, scratching his stomach.
The pig didn't look up. "The toads grilled my mushrooms over weak fire last night." His voice dropped to a murderous whisper. "Weak fire."
"Right. Well, I dreamed about flying dumplings and a woman in wedding robes chasing me with chopsticks, so..." Hwan Do shrugged. "Guess we're both a little messed up this morning."
Seo Rin's voice cut through the tent flaps: "If you're done comparing nightmares, pack up. We're crossing Black Bone Gorge by noon."
Hwan Do froze mid-yawn. "Wait, isn't that where—"
"...the Phantom Wedding Festival happens every decade?" Zhu Bao finished, eyes gleaming. "Where lonely spirits kidnap living grooms? Yes. Yes it is."
Hwan Do turned to Seo Rin with pleading eyes. "Please tell me there's another route."
She threw his pack at his chest. "There isn't. Stop whining."
Black Bone Gorge
The cliffs loomed like rotten teeth against the sky. Wind whistled through the narrow pass, carrying whispers that almost sounded like words. Hwan Do gulped as a cold petal landed on his nose.
"Okay," he muttered. "Solid nine out of ten on the creepy scale. Could be worse. Could be bones growing from the cliffs like broken piano keys."
Music swelled from nowhere, a haunting melody played on instruments no human hand could touch. From the mist emerged a procession of ghostly figures in red, their floating forms carrying a ghostly sedan chair draped in funeral white silks that billowed without wind.
Zhu Bao hid behind Hwan Do. "That's her. The Phantom Bride. She collects handsome idiots like you collect questionable ingredients."
The spectral procession stopped. The silken veils fluttered. A voice like wind through dead leaves spoke:
"You who saw your heart's desire in the tea... will wed it today."
Hwan Do's knees knocked together. "Uh, small problem? I didn't actually drink the—"
Seo Rin's sword rang as she drew it. "We're not here for your ghost wedding. Move aside."
The bride floated forward, her veil revealing glimpses of a face that was beautiful and terrible all at once. "All who enter my gorge must prove their worth. You will duel for his hand."
Seo Rin's eye twitched. "I'm not fighting over him."
Zhu Bao coughed. "Technically, he did dream about you during —"
"ZHU BAO!"
Too late. The bride had already drawn a second sword.
The Duel
Steel met spectral silk in a shower of sparks. Seo Rin moved like water, her blade flashing—but the bride's sword passed through solid rock like mist.
Hwan Do watched, torn between awe and horror. "They're actually fighting over me?"
Zhu Bao tossed him a rice cracker. "Welcome to being a harem protagonist. Try not to screw this up worse than your cooking."
When the bride's sword came within an inch of Seo Rin's throat, Hwan Do moved without thinking.
THUNK
The ghost blade embedded itself in his wok lid.
Silence fell.
The bride stared at the dented cookware. "You blocked a death blow with a wok?"
Hwan Do grinned weakly, raising the dented wok lid like a shield. "It's nonstick."
The ghost bride's veil fluttered—whether from wind or laughter, he couldn't tell. "You would protect my rival?" Her voice carried the faintest note of amusement.
"She's not your rival," Hwan Do corrected without thinking. The words tumbled out before he could stop them: "She's... she matters."
The bride's form shimmered, edges dissolving into spectral petals. "Not yet ready for vows," she murmured, her voice fading with her body, "but your heart stirs like spring tea leaves."
As the last petal melted against his palm, Hwan Do could have sworn he smelled jasmine and heard one final whisper: "Mind the butcher's knife..."
That Night
By the firelight, Hwan Do turned the dented wok lid over in his hands.
"You're an idiot," Seo Rin said, sitting beside him.
"I know."
"But not completely useless."
When he looked up, she didn't turn away.
Somewhere behind them, Zhu Bao's snores hit a truly impressive volume, ruining the moment. Seo Rin stood abruptly.
"Rest up," she said, but paused at the tent flap. Just loud enough to hear: "That was decent wok work today."
Hwan Do stared at the embers long after she'd gone, his chest doing something strange and warm.
Elsewhere...
The Heavenly Butcher dipped a finger into a vial of stolen ghost essence and tasted it.
"Fear... longing... sacrifice..." He smiled beneath his mask. "The final dish needs just one more ingredient."