Chapter 3 The Ceremony

• Ophelia nodded in response.
• Eamon led me up to the second floor. He then took out a key and unlocked the door to a room.
• “Have Eamon accompany you inside,” Ophelia said.
• Observing her demeanor, it seemed she was afraid that she would be emotionally affected. Thus, I nodded and followed Eamon into the room.
• As soon as I stepped through the door, a blast of cold air hit me, making me shiver involuntarily.
• The room was chilled with very powerful air conditioning. In the very center, a massive ice coffin was positioned.
• On the table nearby, there was a black and white photograph displayed. Next to the photo were a white candle and some offerings.
• I had seen death many times before and it didn't particularly frighten me. Yet, there was something about this room that filled me with an indescribable chill, as if it was seeping right into my bones.
• “I'll wait for you outside, Ms. Layton,” said Eamon.
• Eamon seems to understand our line of work quite well. Had there been others from our field who visited before?
• With this thought in mind, I made up my mind and became determined to secure this big deal.
• After the door was shut, an eerie sense of silence pervaded the room.
• I crossed my arms as I gradually edged closer to the coffin.
• Inside the coffin lay a man with a tall and robust figure. He was dressed in a well-fitted suit, his hair cut short and clean.
• This was the most handsome face I had ever seen, with its well-defined features and striking contours. Even though his eyes were closed, I could still imagine how captivating he would be if he were alive. He was undoubtedly a heartthrob.
• I walked up to the door, opened it, and addressed Eamon who was standing outside, “Eamon, could you provide me with Mr. Shandor's birth chart, please?”
• Unfazed, Eamon pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me.
• I took it, feeling even more certain that someone from my line of work must have been here before. After all, Eamon even had the birth chart prepared.
• I pulled out a white candle from my bag and placed it on the edge of the coffin overhead. Then, I carefully reached out and plucked a strand of his hair, wrapping it in the yellow paper bag I had brought with me.
• I glanced at the memorial tablet and saw that his name was Jayden Shandor. So, I said, “Jayden Shandor, dust to dust, ashes to ashes. I am a spirit matchmaker. At your mother's request, I'm here to help you find a wife, in the hope that your journey to the afterlife will be less lonely.”
• After I finished speaking, I took the yellow paper bag containing the strand of hair and set it aflame over the candle.
• In the past, I could always light it up smoothly, but this time, surprisingly, it didn't catch even after three attempts.
• Could it be that it's too cold here?
• I swallowed hard, shielding it from the wind, and tried again. This time, it finally lit up.
• As the yellow paper burned out, I anxiously watched the ashes, only to discover something rather unsettling.
• Jayden's hair was perfectly fine; it wasn't burnt off.
• A chill ran down my spine. Sure enough, trouble had found me. Jayden was still here. Not only had he not departed, but he was also right in this very room.
• I nervously scanned the surroundings, my gaze settling on his photograph. Despite being in black and white, the picture failed to conceal Jayden's elegance. As if he was reluctant to have his picture taken, his eyes in the photo looked sharp, and his lips were tightly pursed.
• I couldn't help but lament, “It's such a shame for someone so handsome to die!”
• I stole a glance at his body, noticing no visible wounds. However, they could be there, hidden beneath his clothing.
• I gathered his hair, cautiously wrapping it in the paper with his birth chart, before stowing it away in my pocket.
• “Mr. Shandor, I'm doing my best to find you a wife that meets your expectations, but you should try not to be too picky. After all, you're a very handsome man, and there aren't many who could match up to you...”
• I couldn't continue speaking. The more I spoke, the colder I felt. I could even sense a pair of eyes fixated on me, making me extremely uncomfortable.
• I swallowed nervously as I said, “I'm leaving now. I'll arrange your blind date in a few days!”
• After I finished speaking, I stormed out the door.
• Upon seeing my state outside the door, Eamon asked worriedly, “Are you all right, Ms. Layton?”
• “I'm fine!” I replied with a nod and followed Eamon downstairs.
• Ophelia's eyes were rimmed with red again, clearly indicating that she had just cried.
• “Mrs. Shandor, I'll be honest with you here. Mr. Shandor's spirit hasn't departed yet.”
• “Oh, Jay!” Upon hearing my words, Ophelia was on the verge of collapse, unable to hold back her tears any longer.
• After finally managing to compose herself, Ophelia wiped away her tears before speaking, “Please name your price, Ms. Layton. As long as it pleases Jay, money is of no concern.”
• I hesitated for a moment before saying, “Mrs. Shandor, to be honest, finding a match for someone as strikingly handsome as Mr. Shandor is rather challenging.”
• “One million!” Ophelia said without any hesitation.
• I was a bit dazed, still thinking that I could afford a house with that much money.
• Upon noticing my silence, Ophelia assumed it was due to dissatisfaction with the price.
• “Two million!” she exclaimed again.
• I gritted my teeth. “All right, but—”
• “Ms. Layton, you're being paid to resolve our problems. I don't care about your difficulties. I'm only concerned about my money being put to good use!” Ophelia interrupted me before I could finish.
• At that moment, I understood what she meant.
• Once this deal was sealed, Morgana and I would never have to worry again. So, I gritted my teeth and assured her by saying, “Mrs. Shandor, please rest assured that I will definitely get it done. However, I will need some time!”
• Ophelia was well aware of the rules of the game. Women were everywhere, but finding one who was both deceased and a suitable match for her son was no easy task.
• “I'll give you six months. If you can't get it done within that time frame, then...”
• Ophelia suddenly dropped her gentle facade, her gaze piercing through me as she continued, “You must marry my son, Ms. Layton!”
• Any sympathy I had just felt for Ophelia had completely disappeared after I heard that.