The razor-clawed attendants, once static stage dressing, now snapped into motion, their red paper robes rustling like dry leaves. Each step was a silent scrape, a promise of pain. Jinxi didn’t hesitate. Survival wasn’t about bravery; it was about knowing when to run and how to run like hell. He bounded off the altar, not towards the main doors, but deeper into the stage’s wings, a maze of ancient flats and forgotten backdrops. “Rui! What in the name of all that’s cursed just happened?!” he yelled into his earpiece, already weaving between dusty velvet curtains. His voice was a thin wire of panic stretched taut by bravado. “Did you order me extra scary wedding party members? Five-star service, honestly.” “He Jinxi, you *cheated*!” Dong Rui’s voice crackled, distorted, a predator’s snarl. “That wine was meant to bind you! To *fuel* the server! You just bought yourself a much, much worse reception.” The papier-mâché trio moved fast. Their paper claws, stiffened and honed to razors, sheared through a scenic flat where Jinxi had just stood. He ducked under a suspended iron birdcage, catching its bars to slingshot around a stack of rotted flats. Years of dodging scooters in clogged alleys had sharpened his footing into quick, reckless pivots. [NetherDash Notification: Rule Adherence Critical. Evasion of Bridal Party – Active. Failure to engage incurs penalty.] “Engage?” Jinxi scoffed, scrambling up a rickety wooden ladder leading to a narrow catwalk. “They’re trying to turn me into confetti! What am I supposed to do, ask them for a dance?” He glanced back. One attendant was already halfway up the rungs, ink-drawn eyes fixed on him in an unblinking stare. From the shadowy observation balcony, Pei Liuli leaned against a crumbling stone railing, a faint, ethereal hum escaping her lips. Her red veil, gossamer-thin, drifted with the ghost of a breeze. Below, Jinxi vaulted over a railing, dropping onto a pile of forgotten stage ropes with a soft thud, then rolled, coming up clean. He moved like quicksilver, a desperate, beautiful defiance. The way he used his body, his surroundings – it wasn't elegant, but it was effective. His shameless patter rang up into the flies. He was cornered, yet his grin held firm, drawing a slow smirk from her painted lips. He Jinxi, still running, fumbled with the clasp of his insulated delivery bag. It was standard NetherDash issue: thick, heat-resistant, and surprisingly durable. He swung it off his shoulder, parrying a gouge from an attendant who had boxed him against a wall of stacked folding chairs. The sound was a dull thud, the paper claws skittering across the dense fabric. “Alright, ladies, you asked for it!” he yelled, his voice strained. He ripped open a side pocket, pulling out a handful of small, foil-wrapped containers. “Special delivery! Five-star spice levels!” With a flick of his wrist, he launched a container of extra-spicy chili oil chicken directly at the first bridesmaid’s face. The foil burst open, splattering the viscous, red-tinged oil across her lacquered face. The paper effigy gave no cry, but its steps hitched as grease saturated its brow. Jinxi ripped open a samosa packet, spraying yellow curry dust directly into the second figure's eyes. The third took the brunt of the flying cardboard and flinched back. Liuli let out a peal of laughter, a sound like wind chimes in a graveyard, echoing through the vast theatre. He was using *takeout* as a weapon. Her groom was truly a unique specimen. “Aha! Now you know how my stomach feels after a late-night shift!” Jinxi crowed, dodging another clumsy swipe. “And for the record, I do take thee, O terrifying paper bride, to be my lawfully wedded… pursuer, in sickness and in health, as long as ‘health’ doesn’t involve being shredded! For richer or poorer, though mostly poorer, and frankly, I prefer my dates less… sharp-edged!” He hurled a packet of sweet and sour sauce, coating the chili-oil-smeared face with sticky, sugary goo. The combination was truly disgusting. He spotted his opportunity: a large, rotating prop door, meant for quick scene changes, stood ajar. It was a heavy, old mechanism, but if he timed it right… He bolted for it, the paper figures stumbling in his wake, their faces caked in paste and spice. He burst through the opening, then, using every ounce of his adrenaline-fueled strength, slammed his shoulder into the heavy wooden frame. The door groaned, then began to revolve. The pursuing trio lunged forward and got sucked into the pivot, their crisp torsos pinned against the turning panels. Jinxi pushed harder, grunting, until the door spun into a blur, trapping the three enraged figures within its dizzying embrace. He leaned against the wall, gasping, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. The air around the spinning door shimmered, a faint, frustrated growl emanating from the confined spirits. His phone vibrated. [NetherDash Notification: Task Completed – Evasion of Bridal Party. Survival Minutes awarded: +15.] From above, a soft, slow *clap* echoed. Pei Liuli, still on the balcony, offered him a lazy, appreciative smile. Her applause was a delicate, mocking rhythm. “You always did have a knack for making an entrance, and an exit, my little delivery boy.” Jinxi pushed off the wall, walking towards the central stage, catching his breath. “And you, my lovely, always have the best seats in the house for my show.” He looked up at her, a genuine smile replacing his usual smirk. “Though a little help wouldn’t go amiss. My five-star rating system includes ‘customer service,’ you know.” She dropped from the balcony without a sound, hems fluttering as she touched the floorboards. When she reached out, her pale hand shifted from vapor into cool flesh, fingers trailing soot off his cheek before settling against his jawline. “And where’s the fun in that, my daring groom?” she whispered against his ear, cold breath smelling of dried jasmine. “I like watching you scramble. Besides, a little terror makes your pulse race.” Her lips pressed against the hollow below his ear, ice-cold and firm, setting his skin tingling. He wanted to lean into her, to deepen the fleeting touch, but before he could, his phone emitted a demonic screech, a sound like tearing metal. Dong Rui’s voice, now gravelly and twisted, ripped through his earpiece, no longer merely distorted but monstrous. “Why won’t you just *die*, Jinxi?! Commencing Bridal Chamber sequence. Let’s see how you talk your way out of this one!”

Five-Star Evasion Tactics