As she flipped through the pages, there were no new entries.
Xiang Min’s diary stopped at this page, and her life ended on that very day.
Tan Manyu felt a lump of suffocating air stuck in her chest. “Xiang Min didn’t commit suicide because of love; she was forced to take her own life after discovering the secret of the principal’s office.”
What did the diary mean by “everything changed”? What did her once gentle teachers and friendly classmates do to her after she uncovered this secret?
Li Zhi slowly scanned the dormitory room.
The spacious and desolate dorm reeked of damp mildew, with cobwebs in the corners, dust covering the floor, and rotting leaves that had blown in from the balcony. The place looked dilapidated and dirty, but it wasn’t cloaked in the eerie gloom of lingering resentment.
The alarm in her arms remained silent; Xiang Min’s ghost wasn’t here.
Just as Tan Manyu had said, the system wouldn’t let any NPC who could become a vengeful ghost slip by. Those were all obstacles set for the players to overcome. As a key NPC in this scenario, Xiang Min’s death, after jumping from the school building, should have been one of the heart-pounding moments for players in this level.
Li Zhi closed the diary and put it back in the drawer. “Let’s go.”
With a heavy heart, Tan Manyu followed her out of the dormitory building.
Lunchtime had ended, and everyone returned to the classroom for lessons. From a few rows of desks away, Li Zhi glanced at Xie Cong, who sat upright, his expression serene.
In Xiang Min’s diary, he was a mischievous and rebellious boy, the bad student in the eyes of the teachers. But in Xiang Min’s eyes, he was a helpful classmate who would assist her with tasks like taking out the trash or wiping the blackboard on her duty day, and who gave her an apple for Christmas.
In the simple, beautiful days of student life, such innocent feelings blossomed slowly, nurtured by these small, joyful moments.
Did Xiang Min like Xie Cong? She probably did. His name appeared many times in her diary. She worried when he was punished, she hesitated over whether to offer him tutoring, and in the end, she revealed the secret that cost her life to save him.
But she was also insecure. Xie Cong was a city boy with many friends, and she felt he didn’t need her. Even in her diary, she never openly expressed her feelings.
So, when she saw the boy she secretly liked turn into a stranger, a monster, she completely broke down.
But what about Xie Cong? Did he ever have feelings for Xiang Min? Does he still remember the girl who lost her life because of him?
At the end of the school day, Li Zhi, holding the pen she had borrowed from him, called out to him: “Xie Cong.”
The tall, handsome boy turned around with a polite smile and a gentle voice, “Li Zhi, what’s the matter?”
He had been fully transformed into a perfect vessel.
If Xiang Min saw him like this, she would probably be heartbroken.
Li Zhi handed him the pen. “Thanks for the pen.”
Xie Cong took the pen, his smile unchanged. “No problem. It’s what classmates should do—help each other.”
“Exactly,” Li Zhi smiled. “Just like how you once helped Xiang Min.”
“Xiang Min…” Xie Cong repeated the name. His standardized smile suddenly twitched slightly. The warm, polite expression on his face cracked like a mask, revealing a brief flash of genuine confusion underneath.
But the crack quickly sealed. His eyes darted back and forth for a split second, and his smile returned, flawless once again.
“Yes, just like how I helped Xiang Min.” He replied.
Once the evening study session ended, Zhou Jianzhang’s group couldn’t wait to leave the classroom. They were eager to get back to the dormitory to play the mirror game.
Liao Ze, whose seat was separated from Li Zhi’s by an aisle, once again invited her to play the “Summoning the Lamp Spirit” game: “I heard you asked them for the incantation this morning. If you’re interested in playing, I can lead you through it.”
His eyes gleamed with an eerie allure as he spoke.
Li Zhi politely declined with a smile.
When all the students had left, the school building fell silent again. The few remaining people exchanged glances, each seeing the excitement reflected on the others’ faces.
Help! Why were they so eager to play a horror game?
Sure enough, after spending too much time around the pros, even their sense of fear was fading!
Under Li Zhi’s direction, they moved the desks and chairs to the sides of the room, leaving the middle empty. Then, using their seven desks, they arranged them to form a seven-pointed space, creating an area to play the “Four Corners Game.”
None of them had played the game before, but Li Zhi recreated the gameplay based on the rules she had overheard from Xu Jingsheng that day. She then explained it to the group again: “Starting from the door, this will be the first position, numbered as 1. Clockwise from here, 1 is Tan Manyu, 2 is Pink Hair, 3 is White Hair, 4 is Yiran, 5 is Peipei, 6 is Lian Qinglin, and 7 is me.”
“Everyone will walk toward the next person in sequence. When 7, which is me, reaches the starting point, position 1 will be empty. I’ll cough once and continue toward position 2. At that time, Tan Manyu, who is at position 2, will continue to walk forward. Once this round is complete, Lian Qinglin at position 7 will walk to the starting point, which is position 1.”
Li Zhi looked at Lian Qinglin: “At that moment, you won’t need to continue walking. You’ll stand at position 1 and say, ‘The game is over,’ and that will end the game.”
Lian Qinglin nodded excitedly.
Li Zhi then gave a stern reminder: “During the game, no matter what noises you hear, don’t turn around. While walking, no matter what you see, don’t run. Just follow the rules and walk to the next person. Don’t mess up, and stick to the game rules.”
Everyone nodded in unison. “Got it!”
They all took their assigned positions. Tan Manyu walked to the door and solemnly switched off the classroom light, her voice carrying a trace of gravity. “It’s starting.”
Darkness fell, and the classroom, like the previous night, was once again enveloped in dim light, barely enough to make out silhouettes. Seven figures stood with their backs to each other in the center of the room, all breathing quietly. They could hear Tan Manyu, in position 1, walking toward position 2.
At position 2 was Pink Hair, who could hear the approaching footsteps and felt a layer of sweat forming in his palms. Soon, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
In theory, the person who tapped him had to be Tan Manyu.
But Pink Hair’s mind was filled with scenes from various horror movies he’d seen before. He didn’t dare look back and, drenched in cold sweat, quickly made his way to position 3.
At position 3 stood his buddy, White Hair. In the dim light, Pink Hair could only make out the outline of his back. At that moment, he couldn’t even be sure if it was really White Hair’s figure. His heart pounded in his throat as he shakily tapped White Hair’s shoulder. Without turning around, the figure at position 3 walked toward position 4. Pink Hair stood at position 3 and let out a slow breath.
One by one, without any mishaps, the players proceeded, until finally, Lian Qinglin at position 6 walked up behind Li Zhi at position 7.
He tapped Li Zhi’s shoulder and then took his place at position 7, listening to Li Zhi’s calm, steady footsteps as she walked toward position 1. He silently exhaled in relief.
Position 1 was empty now. Li Zhi arrived as expected and gave a small cough.
This marked the end of the first round. All they had to do was repeat the same steps one more time, and the game would be over. Everyone was a bit excited.
After coughing, Li Zhi continued walking toward Tan Manyu at position 2. But after taking just two steps, she felt a sudden chill down her spine.
Behind her… wasn’t that position 1?
She didn’t turn around, quickening her pace as she reached position 2 and tapped Tan Manyu on the shoulder.
The new round of movement began once again.
Soon, Peipei, who was at position 6, walked up behind Lian Qinglin at position 7. Lian Qinglin heard a sound, like someone chattering their teeth in extreme fear. Peipei’s trembling hand tapped him on the shoulder.
Position 7 was very close to position 1. As Peipei had walked over from position 6, he must have seen something that scared him so badly.
Lian Qinglin realized something was wrong and instinctively clenched the item in his pocket.
He turned around and slowly started walking toward position 1. As long as he reached position 1, the game would be over.
Everyone could hear the footsteps that signaled their near victory. They were already imagining the thrill of seeing their scores increase after finishing the game. But suddenly, the footsteps stopped.
In the eerie silence of the classroom, Lian Qinglin’s trembling voice broke through, “Sister Zhi… there’s someone at position 1…”
Everyone held their breath at that moment, the hairs on the backs of their necks standing on end.
Lian Qinglin wanted nothing more than to turn and run, but he remembered Li Zhi’s warning. He stood there, frozen, staring at the figure standing just a few steps ahead of him. Like the rest of them, it stood with its back turned, as if it were just another player in the game.
Lian Qinglin really wanted to shout, “What the hell, if you’re standing there, where am I supposed to go?”
Then, he heard Li Zhi ask, “What does it look like?”
“Huh?”
“The ghost at position 1, what does it look like?”
Lian Qinglin was stunned but, gritting his teeth, he began to describe the figure at position 1. “…It’s tall and thin… definitely not human-looking.”
Li Zhi had already suspected something like this might happen. She just hadn’t been sure whether the ghost would appear in the first or second round, so she had placed herself and the experienced Lian Qinglin at the beginning and end of the sequence. It seemed her luck was better than Lian Qinglin’s.
Suddenly, Lian Qinglin drew in a sharp breath. “Sister Zhi, hurry up! It’s turning its head to look at me! Damn, it’s only turning its head!”
Li Zhi responded firmly, “Then what are you waiting for? That’s your spot! Chase it away!”
Lian Qinglin was dumbfounded. “What?”
Li Zhi quickly said, “We can’t break the game rules. You’re the only one who can move right now.”
The ghostly figure at position 1 had fully turned its head, staring directly at him. The dim light made it hard for Lian Qinglin to see its face clearly, but in the next second, it started to walk toward position 2, where Li Zhi was.
Without hesitating any longer, Lian Qinglin rushed forward at lightning speed and threw the item he’d been clutching right at the ghost’s face.
Shrink Dust!
It was an item he had exchanged for 799 points in the previous instance.
The tall, thin ghost froze for a moment, and in the next instant, its entire body began to shrink rapidly. Lian Qinglin watched as it shrank smaller and smaller until it was the size of a yellow bean. He then stomped on it, grinding his foot back and forth to make sure.
He wasn’t sure if it was really dead.
Then, he hurried to position 1 and clapped his hands. “Game over!”
Li Zhi immediately looked at the desk she had previously moved to position 2. On the name tag in the upper right corner, her score had doubled from 20 points to 40.
“The score went up.”
The increase in points signified the game had ended.
Peipei’s legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor. Lian Qinglin quickly ran over to turn on the lights. The bright fluorescent lights flickered on, flooding the room with blinding light. Everyone instinctively squinted for a moment. When they opened their eyes again, Lian Qinglin was crouched down, carefully searching for the ghost he’d stomped on.
Pink Hair listened to him with envy and said, “You actually have such an awesome item! If I had something like that, I’d be brave enough to face a vengeful ghost head-on!”
“Yeah, right!” Lian Qinglin, who hadn’t found any trace of the ghost, replied. “Maybe it disappeared when the game ended, or maybe I really stomped it into dust. But with your courage, you’d probably wet your pants the moment you saw a ghost!”
Li Zhi walked over and asked him, “Could you tell if the ghost was male or female?”
Lian Qinglin thought for a moment. “No, you couldn’t tell. It didn’t even have a human shape, so how could I tell its gender? It seemed like one of those ghosts formed purely from resentment, without any consciousness.”
Li Zhi turned to look at the window from which Xiang Min had jumped.
She had committed suicide in this very classroom. Logically, if they were playing a ghost-summoning game here, the ghost that appeared should have been Xiang Min’s.
Tan Manyu also walked over. “Are you looking for Xiang Min?”
Li Zhi slowly nodded. “Don’t you think it’s strange? She wasn’t in the dormitory, and she’s not in the classroom either. Where did Xiang Min go?”