The flagstones rattled beneath twelve feet of folded soot-crepe as the paper headsman tramped forward, dragging a blade the width of a banquet table. Dust motes danced in the gloom, illuminated by the cold gleam of bronze mirrors reflecting a hundred distorted Lanshans. The quad smelled of scorched paste and ozone as a dry rattle hissed through the effigy's painted mouth slits.
Tang Mingze didn’t hesitate. With a feral cry, he threw himself directly into the executioner’s path. His pink silk bouquet whistled in a wide arc, streaming ruffled ribbons. He spun, a blur of fuchsia against the soot-colored crepe, slipping beneath the opening cleave before the iron-painted edge bit the flags. The massive axe cleaved through the air where he’d been a heartbeat before, sending a gust that nearly ripped his sash off.
“Hey, ugly!” Tang shrieked, his voice cracking with a mix of terror and exhilaration. He jabbed the cursed bouquet into the executioner’s knee-joint, a surprising crackle of energy erupting from the paper petals. The giant figure staggered, its head whipping around with a sound like tearing canvas. [Matchmaker OS: Unsanctioned Aggression Detected! Maid of Honor Engaging Hostile Entity! Initiating Purge Protocol Alpha!] A red targeting reticle, impossibly bright, snapped onto Tang’s chest.
“Go, Lanshan!” Tang yelled, twisting away from a follow-up strike that smashed a bronze mirror into shrapnel. Veins stood out along his throat as he rolled across the flags. “I’ll buy you time!”
Lanshan didn’t need to be told twice. He glanced at Ruoxue, her veiled face unreadable, her hand already reaching for his. “Now or never, my dear,” he breathed, squeezing her hand. “Let’s make this official.”
They sprinted toward the altar, a blur of red and black against the chaotic backdrop of Tang’s defiant ballet with death. The suona horns shrieked a discordant symphony, competing with splintering wood and the synthetic overseer's shrill warnings. Lanshan could feel the phantom pressure of his headset on his temples, a dull ache that promised real-world consequences if they failed.
Reaching the altar, they turned to face the main gates. A simple table stood before them, adorned with two intricately carved paper cups. A strand of crimson silk linked their slender stems. The 'Matchmaker OS' had already moved to the next step.
“First bow, to Heaven and Earth!” Lanshan declared, his voice cutting through the din. He bowed deeply, his spine straight, his eyes still on Ruoxue. She mirrored his movement, a rustle of silk and red fabric. As they straightened, Lanshan lifted his Speedlite rig, pointing the housing straight at the surrounding circle of polished bronze. The effigy, spun around by Tang's relentless swipes, tilted its head, heavy timbers creaking as it hoisted the axe back over its shoulder.
“Second bow, to the Ancestors!” Lanshan commanded, bowing again. Ruoxue followed, her movements fluid and sorrowful. At the peak of their second bow, Lanshan triggered the flash. A blinding white nova erupted from his camera, ricocheting through every curved bronze plate. The courtyard exploded with light, a thousand tiny suns igniting simultaneously. The executioner shrieked, a sound like tearing paper and cracking wood, its massive form momentarily frozen, its lacquered gaze bleached blank by the flash.
[Matchmaker OS: System Error! Optical Glitch Detected! Targeting Parameters Compromised! Recalibrating!]
The red reticle on Tang Mingze flickered, then vanished. The cleaver pitched sideways, the effigy's shoulders trembling as the suona wails hitching in mid-screech. Lanshan and Ruoxue, bathed in the lingering afterglow of the flash, completed their second bow, then their third.
“Third bow, to each other!” Lanshan finished, his voice strong, his gaze locked with Ruoxue’s. He straightened, then leaned in, his lips brushing the veil that obscured her face. “My lovely bride,” he murmured, murmuring beneath the shriek of the horns. Ruoxue’s hand found his, her touch like cool jade, yet fiercely possessive. She leaned her head against his shoulder for a brief, dizzying instant.
[Matchmaker OS: Bowing Ceremony Complete! Acknowledging Protocol Progression! Commencing Final Rite: Cross-Cupped Wine!]
A fresh vessel coalesced atop the alter: a twin-lipped porcelain cup washed in cloud patterns, venomous jade vapor seeping from the mouth. It was the cross-cupped wine, meant for both bride and groom. A tendril of green mist snaked from its rim, coiling in the air like a venomous serpent. Lanshan knew this wasn’t just digital poison. This was the real-world cardiac arrest trigger, the game’s final, lethal embrace.
His battery UI, once a comforting green, was now a frantic red. The numeric readout flashed: 0:01. Sixty seconds before the hardware tripped his pulse into silence. Ruoxue, her eyes fixed on the glowing goblet, began to reach for it, her hand trembling slightly.
“No,” Lanshan said, his voice firm, stepping squarely between her fingers and the jade haze. He snatched the cup, his thumb brushing the cool, smooth porcelain. The green light pulsed, illuminating his determined face in an eerie glow. He didn’t hesitate. He tipped the ceramic rim against his teeth, held her frozen gaze through the silk, and swallowed the draft down to the dregs. A searing pain erupted in his chest, hot and sharp, radiating outward. The world tilted. The heads-up display sputtered into static, pinning his real-world vitals on a flatline trace that pierced his skull with a clean, unbroken drone.