Blood in the Veil
697 Words
The fire had burned low by the time Li Wei finished speaking.
The silence between them hung like a noose.
“My… great-great aunt?” Mei Lin repeated slowly.
She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t wrap her head around it.
But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.
The mansion.
The veil.
The ghost’s presence—so focused, so personal.
Li Wei nodded. “Your grandmother told me before she passed. Lianhua was her aunt. Your bloodline ties directly to this house, and to the spirit that never left it.”
Mei Lin looked at the dying fire. “Then I really can’t leave, can I?”
Li Wei hesitated. “No. Not until this is finished. Not until she finds peace—or takes something in exchange.”
---
The next day, they both began digging through the library on the second floor. It was dusty and mostly untouched, but behind one of the shelves, Mei Lin found a stack of bound newspapers from the 1920s.
She flipped through until she saw a headline:
> TRAGEDY STRIKES FAMILY WEDDING
Bride Missing; Groom Vanished Hours Before Ceremony
Her hands trembled as she read the article. It spoke of Lianhua’s disappearance, the scandal of the groom running off, and a witness who claimed to have seen Lianhua enter the lake wearing her wedding dress.
But there was no body.
No confirmation of her death.
Only rumors.
---
Later, Li Wei brought out a letter he had kept hidden—one he hadn’t shown her before.
It was written by Lianhua herself.
Dated two days after the wedding.
“They lied.
He didn’t run.
He was taken.
And now I wait, in red, until the truth is seen and the vow is broken.
Blood for betrayal.
Blood for remembrance.”
The paper was stained. The ink ran in places. But it was real.
“She was trying to speak even in death,” Mei Lin whispered. “She wasn’t just a ghost. She was… silenced.”
Li Wei’s voice was low. “And now she’s done waiting.”
---
That night, the dreams came again.
Only this time, it wasn’t a dream.
Mei Lin woke to the sound of whispers—dozens of voices, layered over each other, speaking in tongues she didn’t understand.
She sat up in bed.
A faint glow pulsed from the hallway.
Not moonlight. Not candlelight.
Red.
She followed it.
Step by step.
At the end of the corridor, the guest room door was open.
Inside, the veil floated in midair, spinning slowly as if suspended by invisible threads.
And behind it—a woman.
Lianhua.
Her face was pale and lifeless, her eyes hollow and red, the gown soaked and clinging to her ghostly frame. Her lips moved silently. Her hands lifted the veil toward Mei Lin.
Mei Lin didn’t move.
She was frozen—not in fear, but recognition.
In that moment, something inside her shifted.
A memory? A blood echo? She didn’t know.
But she felt it.
Pain. Betrayal. Fire in her chest.
And then—
The ghost screamed.
A terrible, shrieking wail that shattered the window and made the lights burst.
Mei Lin fell backward, clutching her ears, and blacked out.
---
She woke up in Li Wei’s arms, lying on the couch downstairs.
He looked shaken.
“I found you unconscious,” he said. “The room was full of smoke. Something’s happening. The house is changing.”
Mei Lin looked up at him, her voice hoarse. “She showed herself to me.”
He nodded. “Then we’re almost at the end. But there’s still something she hasn’t said. Something she wants you to uncover.”
“What?”
Li Wei hesitated, then handed her an old necklace.
Her grandmother’s pendant.
Inside was a tiny, folded photo.
It showed two women.
One was unmistakably Lianhua.
The other… was a young girl who looked exactly like Mei Lin.
Only the photo was dated 1937.
Mei Lin felt her stomach twist. “This… this can’t be real.”
“She’s not just your ancestor,” Li Wei said.
“She might have tried to live again.”
---
- Writer
