Chapter 29:
School Specter (Part 3):
“Tell Me, How Do You Plan to Punish Me?”
It was past midnight. The whip cracked like lightning, a flash of white against Li Qinqin’s pale, greenish face. Her voice was foul, like a rotting watermelon, and the figures seated at the desks were like buzzing flies.
The classroom had changed. The doors and windows were sealed, the air cold and suffocating. Li Qinqin’s voice echoed through the room, and the dead students turned their heads, their necks creaking like rusty screws.
One head fell off, rolling onto a desk.
“Bad student,” the detached head said, its mouth still moving. “There will be punishment.”
“Punishment?” Chen Henian looked at the head.
“Tell me, how do you plan to punish me?” He walked towards it, then, remembering Wang Min, turned and pointed to the back of the classroom. “Go stand over there, don’t get in the way.”
Wang Min, clutching the talisman, retreated to a corner, the dead students’ eyes following their every move, their faces twisted in anticipation, like hungry predators eyeing their prey.
The head’s eyes rolled upward, its mouth gaping open, its voice a mixture of anger and excitement. “Bad student, bad student!”
“Punishment! Punishment!” the other stiff figures echoed.
A loud crash drowned out their voices, the head jolting, almost falling off again. Chen Henian had kicked a desk, sending it flying.
His face was colder than a ghost’s. “Move.”
The head stared at him, stunned.
“Aren’t we having class?” Chen Henian continued. “I want to sit here.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk, his posture aggressive, predatory.
The head recoiled, its expression turning to terror. It was a ghost, yet this human exuded a chilling aura.
“Move,” Chen Henian repeated.
The headless body stood up obediently, giving up its seat.
Chen Henian sat down, pointing at the head. “Garbage, take it away.”
The headless body picked up its head and scurried away, hiding its face against the wall.
Chen Henian had claimed a desk. “Alright,” he said, leaning back. “You can start class now.”
He looked at Li Qinqin, his tone disapproving. “Weren’t you a student? Why are you pretending to be a teacher now that you’re dead?”
Li Qinqin smiled, a sinister smile, her tongue almost falling out. The hemp rope whip vanished from her hand, reappearing before Chen Henian, its other end tied to the ceiling fan, a noose waiting for him.
Unfazed, he sat there, tapping his fingers on the desk, counting.
With each tap, the figures at the desks shifted.
They stood up.
Stiff as statues, they turned towards him, their faces illuminated by the flickering lightbulb, a greenish glow on their chins.
“Eee—”
“Punishment.”
They had formed a circle around him, their faces looming, their eyes wide, their smiles sinister, their voices a chorus of judgment. “Die.”
“Die?” Chen Henian said calmly. “You want to die? I can help you with that.” He slammed his hand on the desk, shattering it like paper.
“Such weak illusions…” he chuckled, examining his palm. “Can you compare to me?”
Before the ghosts could react, he jumped onto his chair, then leaped into the air, the red string in his hand swirling, striking the surrounding figures, then retracting it as he landed smoothly on his feet.
The ghost students turned into scraps of paper, scattering across the floor.
Chen Henian held the red string, his gaze turning to Li Qinqin. Even a ghost’s face could pale.
Li Qinqin trembled, her face ashen, her eyes wide with fear and anger. She looked past Chen Henian, towards Wang Min.
“Still thinking about others?” Chen Henian approached her, his voice calm, his hand poised to strike.
Li Qinqin, panicked, tried to escape, her form turning into mist, but the red string wrapped around her, glowing faintly against her shadowy body.
He pulled her towards him, throwing her to the floor.
She glared at him, trapped. The classroom returned to normal, the ghostly students gone, replaced by scattered pieces of paper.
“Tell me, why are you haunting her?” He crouched down beside her, unafraid, his hand brushing against her hair, which turned to dust at his touch.
Li Qinqin flinched, a flicker of fear in her eyes. “If you don’t give me a good reason,” Chen Henian said, “I’ll destroy you. Suicides can’t be reincarnated. I’m giving you a chance, since you’re still a student.”
Li Qinqin remained silent. “Not talking?” He didn’t have much patience. “Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
Before he could strike, Wang Min screamed, her voice filled with terror.
“Help! Stay away from me!”
Chen Henian turned to see her pushing at the air with her hands and feet. “What are you doing?” he asked. In that moment of distraction, Li Qinqin vanished.
He frowned. He hadn’t seen any ghosts near Wang Min.
She continued to scream, and he pulled her up from the floor.
“Shut up,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she touched herself, her voice trembling. “I just saw a terrifying person! I dropped the talisman!”
She quickly picked it up, apologizing profusely. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s my fault.”
“Are your hands alright?” She glanced at his hand, reaching for it, but he pulled away, only letting their fingers brush lightly.
“I’m glad you’re not hurt,” she said, relieved. “I saw something red on your hand, I thought you were bleeding.”
“It’s nothing,” Chen Henian wiped some paper ash from his fingers.
“She got away. This will take a little longer.”
He sighed, annoyed, grabbing Wang Min by the collar and pulling her out of the classroom.
“What should we do now?” she asked, her head lowered. “How can I fix this?”
“She won’t show herself easily again,” Chen Henian said. “If she wants to kill you, she’ll wait until I’m gone.” His voice turned sharp. “What are you hiding? She seems to know you.”
Wang Min shook her head innocently. “I don’t know her. I didn’t even know who she was when she died.”
“I swear, her death has nothing to do with me! I’m innocent! If I’m lying, I’ll die!” She raised her hand, her voice firm. But Chen Henian had turned away, his gaze fixed on something else.
“Yin energy.”
He walked towards the source, to the end of the corridor, looking down at a low, unfinished concrete building.
The scent was coming from there.
“What are you looking at?” Wang Min asked. “Is there something strange there?”
“Be quiet,” Chen Henian heard footsteps and quickly pulled her down, covering her mouth.
A beam of light shone on the window above them, a voice calling out from below. “Who’s there?”
“It’s the security guard,” Wang Min whispered. “He hasn’t left yet?!”
They hid behind the restrooms, the security guard calling out a few more times, then turning off his flashlight and walking away.
“It’s getting late,” Chen Henian stood up. “Go back.”
“Alright,” Wang Min hesitated. “But…”
Chen Henian reassured her. “I’ll come back tomorrow night and take care of everything.”
“I need you to bring a personal belonging of the deceased. Meet me here at one in the morning. Keep my talisman with you, and she won’t harm you.”
Wang Min nodded quickly. “I understand.”
Chen Henian left her, returning to his shop. It was two in the morning. He fell asleep, waking up at noon. After lunch, he checked his tools.
“Why are you taking me this time?” the mirror ghost asked as he placed the mirror in his suitcase. “You said it was an easy job.”
“There’s something strange about that school,” Chen Henian said, not regretting letting Li Qinqin escape. He enjoyed playing with ghosts. “You might get a meal out of this.”
“There’s more than one ghost.” He remembered the pool of blood at the end of the corridor, staining the floor, dripping down to the lower floors. Wang Min hadn’t seen it. It belonged to another ghost.
The following night, he returned to Qingping No. 2 High School. Ghost Festival was tomorrow, so this had to be resolved tonight. Fortunately, the security guard wasn’t there, making his task easier.
“Here’s what you asked for,” Wang Min waited for him inside the school grounds, holding out a ballpoint pen. “I asked my classmate for it. It was hers.”
“Where did she die?” Chen Henian asked, standing in the courtyard. “Which window did she jump from? Where did her body land?”
“I remember,” Wang Min said.
“Follow me.” She led him to a window on the third floor. “Here, this was her classroom. I heard she jumped from this window, landing on the grass below.”
Chen Henian looked down at the spot.
“Come here,” he beckoned her.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“Summon her spirit,” he replied, placing the pen on the ground, arranging three candles around it, lighting them, then placing a paper figurine beside it, writing Li Qinqin’s name on it with ink.
“If she won’t come out willingly, we’ll summon her.” He finished the preparations. “Call her name.”
“Li Qinqin, the path to the underworld is long, don’t be afraid, return,” Chen Henian instructed. “Repeat after me. If she doesn’t respond, tap the paper figurine.”
Wang Min nodded, chanting and tapping. “Li Qinqin, the path to the underworld is long, don’t be afraid, return!”
“Li Qinqin.” Slap. “Li Qinqin, the path to the underworld is long, don’t be afraid, return…”
She repeated the chant several times, tapping the figurine, but there was no response, only the rustling of grass in the wind.
“No… no reaction,” she said. “Did I say it wrong?”
“Is that not her pen?” Chen Henian asked.
“I’m absolutely certain! She used it!” Wang Min insisted.
Chen Henian frowned. “Wait.”
He took out a needle, pricked his finger, and squeezed a drop of blood onto the paper figurine.
The blood spread, staining Li Qinqin’s name red.
“Call her again,” he said.
“Return,” Wang Min chanted, her head lowered. “The path is long, don’t be afraid, return!”
As she finished the chant, a sudden gust of wind blew the paper figurine into the air.
The wind was cold, extinguishing the candles.
A chorus of cries filled the air, not just one voice, but many, men and women, old and young, like a surging tide.
A crack of thunder split the sky, a flash of lightning illuminating countless figures appearing before them.
The shadows solidified, forming a crowd of people.
How many?
Twenty, thirty, fifty…
Too many to count. They moved towards Chen Henian, but Li Qinqin wasn’t among them.
It wasn’t Ghost Festival yet. Where did all these ghosts come from?
Chen Henian rotated his wrist, preparing to act, when the approaching ghosts were suddenly thrown back, their cries of pain echoing through the night.
“There’s writing on the ground!” Wang Min pointed. “Oh my god, it’s blood!”
Chen Henian looked down.
Three characters, written in blood: Save me.
