Chapter 23 Part 1

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. The moment the homeroom teacher stepped out, the classroom erupted into a lively buzz.

A bunch of students, brimming with curiosity about Jing Chi, swarmed over to their side the instant class let out.

Caught off guard by the sudden encirclement, Yu Xingzhou frowned and shifted uncomfortably toward the side.

But he’d forgotten he was already backed up against the wall—no amount of scooting would help.

Jing Chi quickly picked up on the boy’s unease. He glanced at the crowd and got the picture right away, promptly vacating his seat.

The group trailed after Jing Chi, peppering him with questions.

“Hey, Jing Chi. Nice to meet you. What school were you at before?”

“Hengyi High School,” Jing Chi replied flatly.

“No way—that legendary place that pumps out a handful of Qingbei admits every year? So why’d you transfer here to our school?”

The question came from someone genuinely puzzled. Their school was just your run-of-the-mill public high school in the city, nothing special.

“Personal reasons,” Jing Chi said curtly.

Picking up on his reluctance to elaborate, they let it drop.

Just then, a boy strolled over from nearby.

He had striking good looks and a gentle demeanor. Flashing a friendly smile, he said, “Hey, I’m the class leader here. Name’s Nan Musheng. Hit me up if you need anything.”

Jing Chi blinked in surprise—he hadn’t expected the protagonist bottom to be in the same class—but he composed himself in an instant and replied politely, “Appreciate it, Class Leader.”

Right on cue, the guy who’d butted heads with the homeroom teacher earlier—and taken a swipe at Yu Xingzhou while he was at it—sidled up. He clapped Jing Chi on the shoulder like they were old pals and launched in with a cocky grin.

“Listen up, dude. That weirdo right next to you? That’s Yu Xingzhou. Total fag. You wanna steer clear—he’s filthy. And watch your back, or he’ll drain every last drop of your life essence!”

Pretending to shudder in mock terror, the boy glanced at Jing Chi’s blank expression and figured he’d landed the scare. He doubled over, howling with laughter.

He wasn’t exactly whispering—his voice carried loud and clear to everyone in earshot, Yu Xingzhou included.

But the class acted like this was old news. Faces blank, no one batted an eye or said a word. It was as if sympathy had gone extinct around here.

“Time for me to step in?”

The evil spirit’s voice thrummed with excitement, laced with bloodthirsty glee and eager anticipation.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jing Chi caught sight of the boy slumped against the wall, scribbling away. His pen hesitated for a split second before resuming its steady stroke, as if those vicious words had never been uttered. More like he’d tuned them out after a thousand repeats.

Jing Chi’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t figured a kid of seventeen or eighteen could spew filth like that.

He lifted his gaze just a touch, locking eyes with the boy, and picked up right where he’d left off.

“That right? Doesn’t bother me. A bit of bloodletting’s no worse than donating.”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, playing it off like a joke—but the chill in his tone was unmistakable.

“Tch. Just trying to do you a solid. Your funeral.”

Sour-faced at Jing Chi’s brush-off, the boy stormed off, kicking the front-row desk for good measure.

The girl up front yelped. “Li Ze, you got a problem or what?”

Jing Chi slid back into his seat. The guy beside him hadn’t budged, frozen in the exact same pose, like nothing had happened.

Jing Chi let out a quiet sigh.

Yu Xingzhou’s lashes fluttered down as he quietly scratched out the word he’d botched—thanks to Jing Chi’s comeback.

Never in his wildest dreams had he thought someone would actually stand up for him one day.

Out in the open, no holds barred.

But he’d lurked in the shadows for so long that the sudden glare of sunlight didn’t draw him closer. No—his gut screamed to back away farther. He couldn’t risk getting burned by that light.

It already hurt bad enough. He didn’t need it worse.

Jing Chi figured this Li Ze punk wouldn’t last long. In a supernatural horror tale like this, cannon fodder that cocky was doomed from the jump.

Even so, he hadn’t pegged Yu Xingzhou for moving that fast.

The entire afternoon, Li Ze never showed his face in the classroom again.

Jing Chi shot a glance at the boy beside him, who’d spent the whole time hunched over his writing—save for a quick dash out during one break.

He’d left empty-handed but came back clutching a little toy figure, which he tossed casually into his desk drawer.

Call it coincidence or not, but Jing Chi could’ve sworn the wooden puppet’s face bore a striking resemblance to Li Ze.

Jing Chi’s eyes narrowed. He turned to the System.

“That Li Ze—is he really dead?”

The System had just gotten back from the scene and gulped hard. “Affirmative, Host. And, uh… it was pretty gruesome.”

No sooner had the words left it than a piercing scream ripped through from outside.

Chaos exploded in the classroom.

Everyone buzzed with chatter. “What’s going on out there?”

“Quiet down, everyone. Quiet!” The teacher supervising study hall ordered. He then strode out of the room.

Less than five minutes passed before the teacher returned, his face ashen and his eyes wide with lingering terror. He drew several deep breaths before addressing the students below.

“Class, after the bell, don’t use the restroom on this floor. Head downstairs instead. It’s out of order—no one’s allowed inside right now.”

No one was buying that flimsy excuse. Seizing the chaos in the classroom, Jing Chi slipped out unnoticed.

He was the type who wouldn’t rest until he’d seen it for himself. He made a beeline for the restroom.

The restrooms on each floor sat squarely in the middle of the hallway, and their classroom was close enough that the sounds had carried clearly.

The incident had unfolded so abruptly that the school hadn’t implemented any real precautions yet.

There was only a yellow maintenance sign propped up outside.

That wasn’t about to stop Jing Chi. He craned his neck for a peek and caught sight of the grim scene within.

The guy who’d been full of life and bluster that morning now lay abandoned on the floor, surrounded by a vast pool of red liquid.

The thick, metallic stench of blood assaulted his senses. Jing Chi knew it was Li Ze’s blood—and from the looks of it, every drop in his body had drained out.

Before Jing Chi could take a closer look, a sharp voice barked from behind him.

“Hey! Which class are you from? What are you doing lurking around there?”

Jing Chi didn’t hesitate. He turned tail and ran.

His pursuer gave chase for a short distance before calling it quits. Only then did Jing Chi slow to a stop.

Moments later, the wail of police sirens pierced the air, growing louder as they approached.

Soon enough, Jing Chi watched from afar as they entered the school building, a pang of regret in his eyes.

They’d come all this way for nothing, of course. After all, this was no ordinary matter—it involved supernatural forces.

In no mood to head back to class just yet, Jing Chi wandered out onto the playground. He happened to pass by the little campus shop, where he picked up two bottles of soda and a handful of fruit candies before stuffing them into his pocket.

As he stepped back into the classroom, he came face-to-face with the homeroom teacher, whose expression was stern and thunderous.

It was his student who’d met such a gruesome end, after all.

Spotting Jing Chi entering from outside, the homeroom teacher furrowed his brow and demanded in a heavy voice, “Where have you been? Why weren’t you in class?”

Jing Chi flashed a smile. “I got thirsty, Teacher, so I stepped out to grab a drink.”

With that, he fished the items from his pocket. Jing Chi’s composure seemed utterly genuine, and the homeroom teacher concluded he couldn’t have visited the scene—most people wouldn’t stomach it.

With a quiet sigh of relief, the teacher added his warning. “Don’t wander off during class next time.”

Under normal circumstances, he’d have given Jing Chi a proper talking-to. But not today.

Jing Chi nodded and returned to his seat. From the lectern, the homeroom teacher continued.

“You’re going to take a two-hour mock exam. No one leaves this room. Understood?”

“Aw, what?”

The announcement of a test sparked a chorus of groans from the class. Just like that, no one cared about the commotion outside anymore.

Jing Chi, however, understood the real intent. The school wanted to keep everyone contained, and by the end of those two hours, the police would have cleared the scene.

Exams held no interest for him. Instead, he set one of the sodas down on Yu Xingzhou’s desk.

“A little welcome gift,” he said with a smile, his eyes curving gently as he regarded the other boy. “To celebrate our first day as desk mates.”

Yu Xingzhou froze for a moment. Uncharacteristically, he lifted his head and fixed his gaze on the bottle.

It was Jing Chi’s first real chance to take in the boy’s full features.

His skin carried the pallor of someone who rarely saw the sun, with slightly long bangs draping over his forehead. His lashes were thick and long, framing eyes of deep, inky black. And there, at the corner of one eye, sat that familiar teardrop mole.

It was positioned exactly like Feng Qinghan’s.

Jing Chi’s heart skipped a beat. Some of his suspicions were starting to look spot-on.

The antagonists across these worlds might all be the same person, if he wasn’t mistaken.

He shook off the thought. Coming back to himself, he saw Yu Xingzhou still staring blankly at the soda, as if he could bore a hole right through it.

“Want me to open it for you to try?” Jing Chi ventured.

The words seemed to jolt Yu Xingzhou awake. In a flash, he shoved the bottle back onto Jing Chi’s desk and mumbled, “No need. Thanks.”

It was like a little mole poking its head out of its burrow, only to duck right back in.

Jing Chi arched a brow but said nothing more. The soda sat quietly on the desk.

Turning his attention inward, he asked the System, “By the way, what was that about earlier? Li Ze calling Yu Xingzhou gay?”

The System explained:

“It’s like this, Host. One day, Li Ze and a few other male classmates planned a prank. They wanted to toss Yu Xingzhou’s homework, but while they were rummaging through his things, they found his diary.”