The person lying on the examination bed seemed to have fallen asleep. Her wrist rested against her brow, covering most of her face. Light danced over her slender knuckles, creating sharp contrasts between light and shadow.
Li Jianxi glanced at her twice, then quickly looked away.
Just as he thought she was asleep, he suddenly heard her call, “Teacher Li.”
That voice always carried a hint of a smile—gentle and calm, no different from the first time she addressed him as “Mr. Li.”
How strange. He had met so many people and had a memory like a bottomless pit, yet he still vividly remembered the first time she called him “Mr. Li.”
Li Jianxi turned his head. “What is it?”
Li Zhi kept her eyes closed, maintaining the same posture, her voice tinged with a drowsy afternoon lethargy. “Have you heard about the girl from Class Two, Grade Eleven, who jumped off the building and committed suicide?”
Li Jianxi was silent for a moment. “Her name was Xiang Min.”
Li Zhi, unsurprisingly, curved her lips into a slight smile.
The students in the class had been tight-lipped about Xiang Min’s suicide, and no clues could be gathered from them. But Li Jianxi was different. He was the school doctor and had been the first to arrive at the scene when she jumped. He must know something about Xiang Min.
Li Zhi moved her wrist away and turned her head to look at him. “Did she really commit suicide over a romantic relationship?”
Li Jianxi shook his head. “I don’t know. By the time I got there, she had already…” He paused, as if recalling the scene was unsettling, his brows furrowing unconsciously.
After a long silence, he spoke in a low voice, “I don’t think so.”
Li Zhi sat up from the bed. “What makes you say that?”
Li Jianxi replied, “Xiang Min was a poor student from a very remote mountainous area. She always worked hard in her studies.”
The school’s medical office not only handled physical injuries and colds but also took responsibility for some psychological counseling. Xiang Min, a student who continued her education thanks to the school’s support, was one whose mental health the school paid attention to. So, Li Jianxi wasn’t unfamiliar with her.
“She was very introverted and didn’t talk much. At first, when she came for counseling, she was very shy. She would only nod in response to questions. But after coming more frequently, she gradually opened up and was willing to communicate with me.”
She told him that she was the only one from her area to get into high school. Because of her academic performance, Yucai High School admitted her, waived her tuition fees, and even covered all her living expenses for her three years in high school. She expressed her deep gratitude to the school and the teachers, vowing to study hard, get into a good university, and return one day to repay her alma mater.
She might have felt somewhat inferior, perhaps thinking she was different from her classmates. Yet, she still maintained the youthful aspirations one would expect at her age. She knew how hard-earned everything was, and the fact that she could continue her studies, study in a city, made her feel far more fortunate than her peers back in her hometown.
“Xiang Min said she cherished everything she had now.”
Li Jianxi finished speaking and looked in the direction of the teaching building.
That was where Xiang Min had jumped.
Li Zhi nodded. “A girl like that wouldn’t commit suicide over a relationship.” She thought for a moment. “Was there anything unusual about her before she committed suicide?”
Li Jianxi reflected for a moment, frowning as he replied, “During that period, she was indeed quieter than before and was especially jumpy, like she was afraid of something. I asked her several times, but she wouldn’t say anything.”
Li Zhi asked, “Did she ever mention a person named Xie Cong? I heard from the students in Class Two that she had a crush on Xie Cong and jumped because he rejected her confession.”
Li Jianxi shook his head. “No.” He paused briefly, then slowly added, “She only mentioned once that her classmates were very kind to her. They would help her clean the blackboard and take out the trash on her duty days, and she liked Class Two very much.”
Liking Xie Cong and liking Class Two were entirely different matters.
If Xiang Min didn’t commit suicide over a romantic relationship, then what was the real reason for her jumping off the building? Why did her classmates and teachers unanimously assume it was for love after her death?
There was no point in pressing Li Jianxi for more information. Li Zhi glanced at the clock on the wall—there was still time before the lunch break ended, so she decided to take a stroll to the administration building.
She hopped off the examination bed and waved at Li Jianxi. “Thank you, Teacher Li. I’m heading out.”
Li Jianxi: “…”
He looked at the rumpled examination bed she had left behind, then at the drawn curtains, and silently nodded.
Li Zhi left without noticing, but her departure didn’t escape the attention of the onlookers:
[Viewer Commentary]
[Wait, Li Jianxi, why is your reaction so off? Did you really think Li Zhi came to take a nap with you?”]
[Hey, watch your words! She just borrowed his bed to nap, nothing more!”]
[Who knows what Li Jianxi was imagining during that time?”]
[He seems really disappointed that Li Zhi didn’t stay longer. He’s too much, I can’t even!”]
[Li Jianxi: Why does she always smile at me? Why does she ask if we’ll meet again? With so many places to nap, why does she always come to me? She must like me.”]
[Li Jianxi, you little rascal, have you already picked out names for your future children?”]
…
As Li Zhi had predicted yesterday, with the principal out, there was no security guard at the entrance of the administration building during lunch break. She easily made her way inside. The entire building felt eerily cold and dark, even more unsettling than the teaching building.
Each floor’s offices were locked. Li Zhi walked all the way up to the fifth floor, where only two small windows at either end let in any light. The dim hallway had an odd, lingering smell in the air. She covered her nose after catching a whiff, worried it might be toxic and unwilling to breathe it in too much.
The entire floor had multiple rooms, but only the principal’s office had a nameplate on the wall next to the door. The two tightly sealed aluminum doors didn’t budge when she pushed them, clearly making any attempts to force entry useless.
It seemed that after this, she’d have to learn how to pick locks.
If the principal’s office was always this well-guarded, the only way to enter would likely be as a student in trouble, escorted for punishment. But once inside, the chances of escape would narrow drastically. She still didn’t know what secrets were hidden in that office, and wasn’t sure if she was equipped to handle them. Unless absolutely necessary, Li Zhi preferred to avoid using this method.
Lunch break ended quickly, and the students returned to another round of studying. However, Zhou Jianzhang’s group seemed noticeably excited about the upcoming “Lamp Spirit” game that evening. Once they played through these games and scored 60 points, they would be able to clear the level.
During evening self-study, Tan Manyu noticed them passing notes frequently and guessed they were discussing the details of the game.
She remembered Li Zhi saying earlier in the day that she, too, planned to play that night, which made Tan Manyu feel a bit anxious.
After the third evening self-study period, when the dismissal bell rang, Zhou Jianzhang’s group wasted no time gathering together.
Tan Manyu glanced at them and then quietly asked Li Zhi, “What about us?”
Li Zhi replied, “We wait.”
Tan Manyu asked, “Wait for what?”
Li Zhi smiled. “Wait for them to invite us, and then we refuse.”
Sure enough, after Zhou Jianzhang’s group finished discussing, they didn’t immediately leave the classroom.
Zhou Jianzhang walked over to Li Zhi, his attitude and tone polite. “Li Zhi, we’ve confirmed that the way to increase our score is to play these horror games. Yesterday, we already tested the waters for you, and nothing went wrong. Tonight, why don’t you join us? We’re all in this together, no need for division.”
Though his tone was polite, the content of his words was anything but.
Li Zhi found herself in an unexpectedly passive position. If she agreed to join them, it would imply that her refusal to play the game the previous night was due to cowardice, and that she had used them to test the waters. This would damage her reputation among the audience, who might start perceiving her as timid. On the other hand, if she refused, she would be seen as causing division in the team, which would contradict her image of always helping her teammates. This could leave the audience thinking of her as two-faced.
Before Li Zhi could respond, Bei Xuan chimed in sarcastically, “Why are you even inviting her, Mr. Zhou? She’s a big shot, she has her own ways of clearing the game. We risked our lives testing the mission last night, and now she’s just sitting back to reap the benefits.”
“Xuan, don’t say it like that,” Zhou Jianzhang responded gently. “We’re all teammates. Since we came in here together, we should all try to make it out together.”
He finished speaking and looked back at Li Zhi, his words now more earnest. “Li Zhi, join us. The sooner we finish the game, the sooner we can clear this place.”
At this point, if Li Zhi refused, it would seem terribly ungrateful.
But Li Zhi had no problem appearing ungrateful.
Resting her head on her hand, she smiled pleasantly, just as polite as Zhou Jianzhang, but her words were far from courteous. “Thank you for the kind offer, Teacher Zhou, but I’m not really interested in playing the game with you. Let’s just play separately. After all, we all know the game rules.”
“Li Zhi!” Bei Xuan burst out angrily. “Don’t be so ungrateful! We’re inviting you out of goodwill!”
Li Zhi glanced at her. “Who knows whether it’s goodwill or ill intent? And besides, us not playing with you doesn’t affect you at all, does it?”
She cast a puzzled look at the group, her gaze slowly sweeping over them. “Why are you in such a rush?”
Zhou Jianzhang’s expression shifted slightly. He held back Bei Xuan, who was about to argue further, and said in a low voice, “The ‘Lamp Spirit’ game requires a special incantation. If you don’t play with us, you won’t know the incantation. Skipping even one game might prevent you from reaching the required score.”
Li Zhi looked at him in surprise. “Can’t you just tell us the incantation after you finish playing? Are you really refusing to share the incantation just because we don’t want to play with you? Aren’t you deliberately preventing us from clearing the level? If that’s the case, what’s the point of all the things you said earlier? It feels rather hypocritical.”
Zhou Jianzhang: “…”
He hadn’t expected his own words to backfire on him like this. With Li Zhi being so completely uncooperative, Zhou Jianzhang finally dropped his polite demeanor and told his teammates, “If they don’t want our goodwill, let’s go.”
The six players who had joined him in last night’s game, along with the two male players who had joined them this morning in the cafeteria, headed toward the classroom door.
“Dong Mingcheng, Yu Qian,” Li Zhi called out to the two male players, her tone gentle. “We’re going to play the game too. Why don’t you join us?”
The two exchanged a glance and quickly shook their heads. “No, no, we’ve already agreed to go with Teacher Zhou.”
Out in the hallway, Bei Xuan enthusiastically called, “Come on, Brother Dong, Yu Qian, let’s go.”
Without further hesitation, the two hurried out of the classroom.
“Let it go, Sister Zhi,” Lian Qinglin whispered softly. “Good advice is wasted on those doomed to die. It’s their choice.”