The Lament of the Vanished Bride

The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the village of Longsheng. The air was thick with the scent of blooming azaleas and the distant sound of a brook. It was the night of the wedding of Xian, a young and beautiful woman, to her childhood love, Ming. The villagers had gathered to celebrate, their laughter mingling with the sound of traditional Miao music.

Xian, adorned in her finest red silk wedding dress, stood at the altar, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. Ming, a gentle and kind-hearted man, stood beside her, his eyes filled with love and anticipation. The priest chanted ancient words, the sound of which seemed to carry through the night, echoing in the hearts of those present.

As the priest declared them husband and wife, Xian and Ming exchanged vows, their voices trembling with emotion. The villagers erupted in cheers, showering them with rice and confetti. The night was perfect, or so it seemed.

But as the couple retreated to their room, the perfect night took a dark turn. The door slammed shut behind them, and Ming turned to Xian, his eyes wide with shock. "Xian, something's wrong," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Xian followed his gaze and saw the reflection of a woman in the mirror. It was her, yet it wasn't. The woman in the mirror had long, flowing hair that seemed to move on its own, and her eyes held a cold, calculating gaze. Xian's heart raced as she realized the woman was a witch, and she was cursed.

The witch's voice echoed in the room, "You are bound to me by a curse. On this night, you will be apart forever. Your love is not meant to be."

Ming's face turned pale as he looked at Xian. "What is happening?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The witch's laugh was chilling. "The curse is real, Ming. You must leave this room, or you will die."

Ming, driven by love and fear, turned to Xian. "I can't leave you, Xian. I won't."

The witch's laughter grew louder, and the room seemed to spin around them. Xian felt a cold hand grip her throat, and she struggled to breathe. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Ming, please."

But Ming was already gone. The door opened, and he stepped out, his face pale and determined. The witch's voice followed him, "You will never find true love, Ming. You are mine now."

Xian collapsed to the floor, her heart breaking. The witch's laughter filled the room, and the image of the woman in the mirror grew clearer. Xian's eyes met the witch's, and she saw the truth. The witch was her own reflection, the curse a manifestation of her own insecurities and fears.

As the witch's laughter faded, Xian felt a strange warmth envelop her. The room seemed to spin, and she closed her eyes, letting the darkness take her. When she opened them, she was alone, the witch's curse a part of her forever.

Days turned into weeks, and Xian remained in her room, the door never opening. The villagers whispered about the cursed bride, and Ming was seen wandering the village, his eyes hollow and his spirit broken.

One night, as the moon hung low in the sky, Xian heard a knock at the door. She opened it to find Ming, his face bruised and his eyes filled with tears. "Xian, I've come for you," he said, his voice trembling.

Xian stepped back, her heart pounding. "Ming, you can't leave your family. This is for the best."

Ming stepped forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "I love you, Xian. I will never stop loving you."

The witch's voice echoed in the room, "Your love is not meant to be. You will never be together."

But Xian and Ming ignored the witch's curse, their love stronger than any curse. They ran from the village, hand in hand, their hearts filled with hope.

As they ran, the witch's laughter followed them, but it was fainter now, and their love was stronger. They knew that no curse could ever tear them apart.

The Lament of the Vanished Bride became a legend in Longsheng, a story of love that defied all odds. And though the witch's curse remained, it was a reminder that true love can overcome even the darkest of curses.