Chapter 8: Gu Insects

“No,” Ji Huaizhi replied.

His voice was as cold and deep as ever.

“Oh, okay then. It’s nothing. I just saw a little bird earlier. It seemed like a pet. I was about to take a shower, and there it was on the windowsill. I went downstairs to get some food for it, and by the time I came back up, it was gone,” Ning Shuang explained.

Ji Huaizhi’s tone softened slightly. “Maybe it flew home.”

“Could be.” Ning Shuang didn’t dwell on it. “Sorry to bother you. Get some rest soon. Remember to lock the doors and windows before bed. It’d be a hassle if any bugs flew in.”

He waved and returned to the bathroom.

Only after Ning Shuang had closed the bathroom door did Ji Huaizhi go back to his room.

He turned a cold gaze toward the little bird hiding behind the curtains. The little bird shrank back its neck and let out a faint cooing sound.

“Stupid,” he said, his thin lips parting abruptly. A flash of dark purple light, laced with warning, gleamed in his eyes.

He had only told it to watch Ning Shuang, but it had taken liberties by flying right up to him—even while he was showering. It had gotten so entranced watching him that it came back raving about Ning Shuang’s great figure. Calling it stupid was going easy on it.

The little bird didn’t even dare coo anymore.

~~~

The morning glow faded, and the sky turned the color of fish belly white. A thin mist took on hues from the sunrise, like a gossamer veil of gold. Dew trickled from leaf tips, trailing slender transparent threads. After his morning run, Ning Shuang walked home from the park, leading Ning Dundun by the hand.

Buzz.

His phone buzzed in his pocket with a message notification. Ning Shuang pulled it out and saw it was from Zhao Wei Liang.

【Zhao Wei Liang: Do you have class this afternoon in third period?】

【Ning Shuang: No class. What’s up?】

【Zhao Wei Liang: I have an elective that period. Can you cover for me?】

Ning Shuang and Zhao Wei Liang weren’t in the same class, but they often helped each other skip classes like this. Ning Shuang was used to it, but he still asked casually: 【What’s the matter?】

【Zhao Wei Liang: Caught a cold. Probably from the night breeze last night. My head’s pounding.】

Ning Shuang paused, then typed: 【A cold from the wind? Did you get medicine?】

Zhao Wei Liang sent a voice message: “I got medicine. I need to sleep it off. I can barely keep my eyes open…”

From the hoarse rasp in Zhao Wei Liang’s voice—like he hadn’t had water in a week—Ning Shuang could tell he was really under the weather.

Ning Shuang typed: “Send me the class schedule then. I’ll cover for you.”

About ten minutes later, after Ning Shuang had gotten home, changed clothes, and boarded the bus to school, Zhao Wei Liang finally sent the schedule.

He glanced at it briefly and put the minor incident out of his mind.

By the time Ning Shuang got back from his morning run, Ji Huaizhi was already gone. The house felt empty, and the living room inexplicably drafty. After changing clothes and filling Ning Dundun’s food and water bowls, Ning Shuang headed to school too.

The new students’ military training uniforms from the past couple of days had been accounted for. When Ning Shuang arrived at school, he checked in with Business Class 1’s counselor, then joined their class group chat.

It was Friday, and the school required all military training uniforms to be distributed to the freshmen by that afternoon, since training started Monday.

So Ning Shuang first introduced himself briefly in the group chat, then reminded everyone to pick up their uniforms downstairs from the dorms that afternoon.

Distribution was scheduled for the afternoon, but Ning Shuang had to cover Zhao Wei Liang’s first class, so he went to the Storage Building now to pick up his class’s full batch of uniforms.

The morning’s crisp coolness lingered, the air heavy with damp dew. As Ning Shuang hurried from the teaching building toward Building 8, he reached the fork that passed the Abandoned Lab Building and noticed the warning tape blocking the path entrance had been removed.

Ning Shuang blinked in surprise. Had those thrill-seekers from last night been that bold? They’d even taken down the school’s warning tape?

The area was remote with no cameras, so even if someone had removed it, the school couldn’t catch them.

Besides, it was all baseless rumors anyway. Sealing it off had probably annoyed plenty of early birds who had to take detours.

With the tape gone, Ning Shuang could cut through without guilt.

Without a second thought, he strode onto the shortcut path.

Leaves rustled in the wind, the river flowed quietly by the bank, and birdsong mingled with insect chirps in the woods. The sounds wove together in a way that unexpectedly sent a chill down his spine.

But Ning Shuang had always been fearless. He felt no fear—instead, he quickened his pace toward the front of the Abandoned Lab Building.

The path entrance bore many footprints, along with some fresh trash—likely left by last night’s group.

Ning Shuang’s gaze followed the tracks and paused. In the middle of the clearing stood a long-haired young man in a white shirt and black trousers.

From the back and the aura alone, Ning Shuang instantly guessed who it was. Still, out of caution, he didn’t call the name. “Classmate?”

Ji Huaizhi turned around.

“It really is you. I was worried I’d mistaken you. What are you doing here? I thought you had morning class,” Ning Shuang said, stepping forward.

Dry twigs and leaves crunched underfoot.

“Passing by,” Ji Huaizhi lied without batting an eye. “That morning class got canceled.”

“Canceled again?” Ning Shuang recalled yesterday’s morning class had been canceled too. On second thought, with school just starting, some professors’ schedules might conflict, making rescheduling likely.

“Yeah.” Ji Huaizhi tucked his long hair behind his ear. “I passed by here earlier. It looked nice.”

Ning Shuang looked at him, his gaze landing by his ear. “Ji Huaizhi, there’s a leaf on your head.”

Ning Shuang pointed at Ji Huaizhi’s hair. Ji Huaizhi’s expression faltered as he started to raise his hand, but Ning Shuang had already reached over, plucked the fallen leaf from his hair tip, and held out his palm to show him with a smile. “How long have you been standing here? You didn’t even notice.”

“Thanks.” Ji Huaizhi took the leaf from Ning Shuang’s palm. Their hands brushed, and Ning Shuang felt Ji Huaizhi’s even colder than a couple days ago.

“No problem.” Ning Shuang clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head toward the dilapidated building beside them. The air carried a rotten stench mixed with the acrid remnants of chemical smoke—not pleasant at all.

It was laced with a strangely alluring fresh fragrance. Ning Shuang sniffed, and his heart inexplicably raced—like gu…

The building loomed alone amid desolation, cracks spiderwebbing its walls. Weeds thrust from the fissures, moss patching spots worn by rain.

A wisp of chill seeped from inside.

Ning Shuang sneezed. He really didn’t like this place.

“Ji Huaizhi, let’s go. It’s so cold here. Your hand feels icy too,” Ning Shuang said.

Just then, a gust kicked up, rustling the surrounding leaves. Ji Huaizhi’s shirt billowed, his long hair whipping freely. Ning Shuang blinked, momentarily dazzled.

“Okay.” Ji Huaizhi nodded slightly and turned to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

They walked out together. Suddenly curious, Ning Shuang asked, “By the way, why don’t you live on campus? Renting off-site must cost a pretty penny.”

Ji Huaizhi’s tone stayed even. “I like quiet.”

Fair enough. Ji Huaizhi did seem like the type who avoided crowds.

“True. Dorms mean dealing with roommates. Even if yours are quiet, the ones next door might not be.” Ning Shuang nodded, then added, “What time do you usually go to bed? I’ll try not to make noise after that.”

Ning Shuang went to bed fairly early himself, but Ji Huaizhi might turn in sooner.

“It’s fine for you.”

“Hm?” The vague remark caught Ning Shuang off guard.

The air stilled for a few seconds.

Ning Shuang thought he heard an extremely faint sigh of exasperation. Then Ji Huaizhi said, “The house has good soundproofing. And you don’t make much noise anyway, so it’s fine.”

“Really? Good then.” Ning Shuang tilted his head and grinned at Ji Huaizhi again, his sharp tiger teeth lending him a cute air.

“Oh, right…” Ning Shuang remembered he was now the class assistant for Ji Huaizhi’s class. “Have you checked your class group chat?”

Ji Huaizhi: “What’s wrong?”

Ning Shuang: “The school assigned Student Union members as class assistants for freshmen during military training—to help them get oriented and such. I just found out today that I’m yours.”

“I joined your group this morning and sent a notice about picking up military training uniforms downstairs from the dorms this afternoon. Did you see it?” Ning Shuang asked carefully.

Ji Huaizhi: “Sorry, I didn’t notice.”

Ning Shuang waved it off hurriedly. “No worries, no worries. It was just sent. If you can’t make it, I can grab yours and bring it home. We live together, after all, right?”

“Good. Thanks. I’ll be at the dorms on time.” It was on campus anyway; picking up the uniform wouldn’t take long.

Ning Shuang needed to go to Building 8 for the uniforms, while Ji Huaizhi was headed to the library. Their paths diverged, so after exiting the Bamboo Grove Path, they parted ways with goodbyes.

Ning Shuang checked the student roster and inventoried every military training uniform for Business Class 1. He discovered that Ji Huaizhi was the tallest person in the class.

At 192 centimeters, Ji Huaizhi stood three centimeters taller than Ning Shuang himself.

It was rare to find anyone as tall as Ji Huaizhi at the school—and even rarer to find someone as handsome.

No wonder Lu Yuyang had teased him about having such good taste.

Once the uniforms were stored away, Ning Shuang had to hurry back to class.

This was a professional course, and by the time he reached the classroom, Lu Yuyang had saved him a seat as usual. Ning Shuang hunched over and slipped in beside him.

“Yo, big shot busybody—I thought you were skipping this one,” Lu Yuyang teased.

Ning Shuang lowered his voice. “It counts for attendance. I’d crawl here if I had to.”

Lu Yuyang chuckled a few times.

After more than half the class had gone by, the teacher switched them to self-study and problem-solving.

Lu Yuyang tossed his pen onto the desk. He leaned back fully into the chair, stretched his legs out long, and cradled his head in his hands—a perfect setup for a nap.

Ning Shuang nudged him with an elbow. “We’re still in class!”

“I’m sleepy,” Lu Yuyang grumbled, sounding annoyed.

Noticing the dark circles under his eyes, Ning Shuang asked curiously, “Did you stay up late gaming again last night?”

“Nah, just didn’t get enough sleep.” Lu Yuyang suddenly sat up straight and leaned toward Ning Shuang. “Hey, I just remembered something.”

“Last night, someone sent me a few short videos.” Lu Yuyang had a sneaky look about him, which made Ning Shuang suspect they weren’t exactly wholesome.

“What are you doing? This is class!” Ning Shuang refused sternly.

Lu Yuyang rolled his eyes. “What are you imagining? If I had stuff like that, you think I’d share it with you?”

Ning Shuang felt a bit speechless. “So what are the videos?”

Lu Yuyang pulled up the clips his friend had sent and showed them to Ning Shuang. “That Abandoned Lab Building behind our school—remember it?”

“Yeah. Didn’t it have that whole ghost rumor last semester?” It had obviously been someone playing tricks.

Lu Yuyang shook his head. “Not ghosts. Some real guardian god. You guys in the Student Union had that dinner last night, right? My buddy invited me to check it out, but I didn’t have any wishes to make, so I passed.”

“These are the videos they sent me.” Lu Yuyang handed over his earbuds. Once Ning Shuang had them in, he hit play.

The video showed them clearly entering the building. Abandoned glass instruments littered the place, and the walls were blackened from fire. The person in front stepped onto the staircase, leaving behind footprints that glowed blue.

The prints flickered on and off, casting an eerie blue glow over the dark spots.

“See? Totally magical,” Lu Yuyang said.

Ning Shuang held the phone, completely absorbed as he watched closely. Then the filmer’s phone suddenly dropped, a scream rang out from the speakers, and the video cut off.

Ning Shuang jolted in fright and flung the phone away, creating a huge racket.

Lu Yuyang immediately ducked his head, putting as much distance as possible between himself and Ning Shuang.

The professor up front pushed up his glasses. Once he saw who had made the noise, he said earnestly, “Ning Shuang, how is it you again? Don’t make sounds that disturb the class, understand?”

Ning Shuang shot to his feet and bowed in apology. “Sorry, Professor. I didn’t mean to.”

The professor waved him off—he always cut Ning Shuang, the model student, plenty of slack. “All right, sit down. You and your deskmate keep it quiet.”

Ning Shuang sank back into his seat.

Only after the professor stopped glancing their way did Lu Yuyang raise his head. “It was just a phone dropping. Did you really have to freak out like that?”

“It’s not…” Ning Shuang trailed off, at a loss for words. “Show me again.”

In that final second of footage, he’d distinctly seen a familiar insect.

Lu Yuyang replayed the video. Ning Shuang dragged it straight to the end: the phone hit the ground, the camera pulled in close to the floor, and an ant-sized bug appeared in frame.

“Firefly Gu,” Ning Shuang muttered with a frown.

“What?” Lu Yuyang looked puzzled.

Ning Shuang threw out a quick excuse. “Nothing… yeah, it’s pretty magical.”

Ying. It was one of the gu insects they raised in the Miao Frontier—ant-sized, with a plump abdomen filled with fluorescent ink. When crushed to death, the ink leaked out and glowed an eerie blue. It was harmless, but perfect for staging ghostly tricks.

But how had one of those bugs ended up here?