Chapter One: The Familiar Campus

As a child, I was frail and often ill. My family sought medical help everywhere, but my health remained precarious. Even my father, who had never believed in superstition, took me to visit the Northeast Spirit Medium—what people call a “seer”—hoping for some miraculous cure. Yet the outcome was disappointing; the medium even declared, “This child won’t live past the age of ten.”

Despite such dire predictions, I somehow managed to survive, stumbling from one illness to another for eighteen years.

That June, I was hospitalized once more with tuberculosis. By the time I returned to school, it was already July.

“Well, look who it is! Isn’t that our resident invalid, Lin Yao?” The moment I stepped into the classroom, I was greeted by a chorus of teasing from my classmates.

I was fairly well-liked, and not unattractive, but my constant illnesses made me an easy target for ridicule.

“Shut up, damn you, Li Zijian,” I grumbled at my insufferable deskmate and slumped into my seat beside him.

“Oh, still mad?” Li Zijian gave me a look so mischievous I couldn’t help but want to laugh. “He’s even more annoying than Deadpool,” I thought.

Senior year was busy. Though I’d been gone a month, no one made a fuss over my return—it was as if a pebble had dropped into the ocean, leaving not a ripple behind.

By the second break, fatigue overwhelmed me and I dozed off at my desk. Even twenty minutes of sleep was a precious respite for my exhausted body.

Then, something odd happened—I had the strangest dream.

In the dream, I found myself in a silent forest, distant voices echoing through the trees. I wanted to move toward the sound, but it was as if some unseen force compelled me forward, guiding my steps against my will.

Suddenly, a frantic voice yanked me out of my slumber.

“Lin Yao, Lin Yao!” I opened my eyes groggily to find Li Zijian pounding my shoulder, chattering all the while.

“Hurry up and join the WeChat group! Someone called Ghost King just created it and is handing out red envelopes… Ugh, I just snatched another fifty yuan!” Li Zijian’s eyes never left his phone.

I glanced at the time. Class had already started—ten minutes ago, in fact—but the teacher was nowhere to be seen.

I couldn’t be bothered to care. To shut Li Zijian up, I pulled out my phone and let him add me to the group. I was the last one in, making a neat hundred members.

“Hello, classmates. How about we play a game?” The user named Ghost King finally spoke.

“Yes, let’s play!”

“Who would say no to free cash?”

“How come I never get the biggest share? So unfair…”

Clearly, everyone was enthralled by Ghost King’s generosity, flooding the group chat with messages.

“Alright, let’s begin.” With those words from Ghost King, a red envelope appeared. Everyone scrambled for it, myself included.

The classroom filled with the sounds of excited chatter.

“Damn, only six yuan forty for me,” Li Zijian grumbled, glancing at me. “How much did you get?”

I checked my phone—thirty yuan, exactly.

I thought I must have gotten the most, but my classmate in front of me, Liu Tian, had managed to grab thirty yuan and sixty cents.

“This round’s luckiest player must touch Zhou Jiali’s leg for thirty seconds. You have ten minutes. Game starts now,” Ghost King announced.

I thought, “This is getting a bit out of hand…”

Some classmates were amused, others dismayed.

“Why should I be the one?” Zhou Jiali protested. She was the class’s little darling, looking barely older than a preteen.

I peeked over and saw her pretending to be calm, already having put away her phone.

“What kind of game is this? I’m not playing,” Liu Tian said, waving his hand in the group chat.

“Once the game begins, it cannot be stopped,” Ghost King replied curtly, ignoring the flurry of protests.

“Oh come on, it’s just a leg. Play by the rules,” someone chimed in.

“Yeah, it’s not like you’ll get pregnant.”

“Just go with it, Lady Zhou. Hahaha…”

The group was buzzing with jokes, but something felt off to me.

Ten minutes passed in a flash. Right on cue, Ghost King sent another message.

“Liu Tian failed to complete the game. Punishment: bungee jump.”

Everyone was curious about the punishment.

“Bungee jump?”

“Is he supposed to go on a trip?”

“How is that a punishment…”

Suddenly, Liu Tian, sitting in front of me, began to convulse. Then, as if in a trance, he walked to the front of the room.

He gave us a strange, eerie smile, then dashed toward the window and leapt out without hesitation.

For a few seconds, the class was stunned. Then chaos erupted. Some girls ran out in tears, screaming.

I fumbled for my phone and called the police.

Even Li Zijian was shaken. “Did… did he just die?”

I didn’t answer. Heart pounding, I edged toward the window.

Through the shattered glass, I saw Liu Tian lying flat on the ground below, head first, his body broken, the contents spilling out grotesquely.

I turned away, nauseated.

By now, only a few braver students remained, while others from Class Two were gathered at the door, trying to find out what had happened.

I slumped in a corner, cold sweat drenching me as Liu Tian’s sinister smile played over and over in my mind.

“Ah! Murder!” Li Zijian seemed possessed, running down the hall and yelling like a madman.

I looked up at the blazing sun outside, thinking, “In broad daylight… could there really be ghosts?”

Steeling myself, I walked out of the classroom.

Oddly enough, the school was deserted—no teachers anywhere, as if they had vanished into thin air.

“Hey, Lin Yao!” I looked up to see a man at the stairwell, waving at me.

“Chen Chen?” I hurried over and recognized him as I approached.

“What happened in your class?” he asked, as cool as ever, though I knew him to be soft-hearted beneath his tough exterior.

“I don’t know. He just jumped, out of nowhere,” I replied with a shiver.

He was one of my few true friends—after more than ten years, perhaps I was his only close companion too.

“Let’s get out of here. It’s creepy just being around.”

We were nearly at the school gate when the police finally arrived.

A handsome man with sharp brows and deep-set eyes was crouched by the body, examining it closely.

He glanced up and locked eyes with me.

“You there—come here!” His tone was sharp, and if it weren’t for his uniform, I might have mistaken him for a killer himself.

I walked over, stepping past the police tape, and faced him. With a glance, I signaled Chen Chen to head home; we’d be fine.

Chen Chen gave a slight nod—our understanding was always unspoken—and walked away.