The Marriage Knot - Chapter 2

Black and White Impermanence came with him. Even King Yanluo followed him respectfully. A whole crowd of people—no, ghosts—arrived at once.

Before I could work out what was happening, he seized my wrist and examined the red thread connecting us. “Xiao Zhaodi, right? Can we get a divorce?” he asked urgently.

I nodded, bewildered.

We stood before the underworld’s Terrace of Severed Affection and recited the vows of separation over and over. The red thread refused to break.

In the end, he grew so desperate that he tried every weapon he could lay hands on. While I watched in uncomprehending awe, he even summoned fire and lightning. Still, the thread connecting us remained as good as new.

Sweat poured off him, and he kept muttering, “Fuck.” He didn’t look remotely sickly now.

After a long while, I couldn’t stand watching anymore and tried to comfort him.

“Young Master Wang Fugui.” That was his name, wasn’t it?

“Don’t call me Wang Fugui!” He recoiled as though I’d subjected him to some unspeakable humiliation. Then he enunciated every syllable. “I. Am. Prince. Ao. Ye.”

Ao Ye? That sounded exactly like “staying up all night.” Wang Fugui was a better name.

“Young Master Ao, it doesn’t matter if the thread won’t break. I won’t pester you.”

He was indignant again. “This damn thread is trapping me! All I did was undergo a trial, and now I can’t even get out of the underworld!”

Black Impermanence spoke with great deference. “Your Highness, this red thread may… may not be severed anytime soon.”

He grabbed Black Impermanence by the collar. “If I can’t break it, I’ll break you!”

White Impermanence, sweating profusely himself, hurried over to intervene. I worried that if he broke out in any more cold sweat, the paint on his face would run.

“Your Highness, this marriage knot was tied in the mortal world. It really is outside our jurisdiction.”

“Is there any other way?” he demanded impatiently.

“Unless Miss Xiao is reborn, the knot cannot be undone.”

“How long will that take?”

“I’ve made a calculation. For all mortals to forget Miss Xiao, it will take approximately…” Sweat dripped from White Impermanence’s face, one bead after another. Now I knew for certain that their black and white faces were painted on.

His voice grew smaller and smaller until he finally squeaked, “Approximately… one sexagenary cycle.”

“Find me another way!” Ao Ye punched and kicked the two officers.

King Yanluo finally stepped in to dissuade him. “My dear nephew, calm yourself. If you injure them, it’ll count as a workplace accident.”

“A sexagenary cycle! He said a whole sexagenary cycle!” Even restrained, Ao Ye landed two more angry kicks.

How many years was that? And why did they have to make it sound so literary?

Seeing my blank expression, Ao Ye enlightened me. “Sixty years! They’re making me wait another sixty years!”

Sixty years? Was the road to reincarnation that badly congested? Why did we have to wait so long?

I was angry enough to kick them twice myself.

Ao Ye squatted by the door and viciously bit into another ginseng root. “Once my cultivation improves, I’ll get out of here for sure!”

I looked around King Yanluo’s magnificent temporary palace. None of it felt entirely real.

I’d thought marrying into a rich family after death was already far above my station. Instead, I’d married into a family of immortals. Was I dreaming?

At that moment, my new husband—Ao Ye, youngest son of the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea—picked up a lingzhi mushroom and started chewing.

“Heartless immortals! Heartless Siming!” he grumbled between bites. “He promised this trial would just be a bit of fun. He even promised there’d be no trial of love. Then I die, and he springs a ghost marriage on me! Now I’m stuck in the underworld because of this lousy piece of string!”

“Try to look on the bright side, Young Master Ao,” I said consolingly.

Sixty years was the blink of an eye to immortals like him. To ghosts like us, it was our whole life.

But he threw a tantrum. “I miss my father! I miss my sister! I want fish! I want to go home!”

Accept your fate. I already had.

After returning several times from the underworld’s boundary, filthy and defeated, he slowly began to accept reality.

He even started planning for sixty years with me. First, he established boundaries: separate rooms, separate beds, separate territories.

Then he made rules. I wasn’t to nag him for staying up late or disturb him when he slept in.

And then he took issue with my name.

“Xiao Zhaodi, right? What kind of name is that?” He looked speechless. “Why don’t we call you Xiaoxiao instead?”

“Xiaoxiao? I like that,” I told him.

In life, I’d been the least important person in my family. In death, I wanted to be a free, happy ghost.

“And no calling me Ao Ye!” he declared solemnly. “It gives away my sleeping habits. Just call me A-Ye.”

“All right,” I agreed.

What we called each other didn’t really matter. As long as I had somewhere to shelter, I could get through sixty years on my own.