The university buildings loomed faintly in the dark.
Tang Yu sat on the flatbed cart, surrounded by players poking and prodding at his affection panel.
“Oh wow, his affection for me is 1. Is 10 the full score?”
“How many points does it take to propose?”
Tang Yu couldn’t see the affection scores the players were talking about—probably because he had the NPC perspective. NPCs didn’t need to know how much players liked them.
“Besides the panel, nothing changed. What a scam of a quest.”
“Hmm, if we’d picked quest 1, we wouldn’t have gotten the cart. So in hindsight, quest 2 was better.”
“Yeah, the vending machine had a few hundred bucks in it.”
“And we can sell the broken remains of the haunted bus to a scrap dealer. That’s a few hundred more.”
As the players chatted, Tang Yu felt the flatbed cart beneath him start to tremble.
Tang Yu also shivered and got off the cart. Before he could come up with an excuse to sneak away, a player shouted, “New quest alert!”
[New Quest: Find ???]
[Quest Description: ??? exists within the university. When you get close, the system will notify you.]
[Difficulty: C]
[Reward: +1 Agility]
The players shouted and joked about the “question marks” while charging toward the university on their carts.
But not all of them left. She Qulin stayed behind and greeted him familiarly: “Tang Yu, can you tell me something about this university?”
Tang Yu kept his head down, searched the school on his phone, and silently showed the results to She Qulin.
She Qulin skimmed it quickly, then said, “This isn’t what I meant. I’m looking for urban legends or ghost stories only students know.”
Tang Yu: “?”
Tang Yu shook his head. He suspected She Qulin thought this place was a horror game map. But the haunted bus was an exception—their school was a normal school.
“Oh, I see,” She Qulin said. “Has anyone around here died unexpectedly?”
Tang Yu shook his head again.
“I see.” She Qulin sounded a little disappointed.
Tang Yu: “…” Why do you sound disappointed?!
“By the way, leave your contact info. If you remember anything or need help, you can reach me.” She Qulin smiled.
Tang Yu didn’t really want to, but She Qulin had that persistent, obsessive air—or rather, a familiar kind of creepiness.
People like that wouldn’t let him go if he didn’t give them what they wanted. In the past, Tang Yu rarely had to handle them himself—Shen Junxing would step in. But now…
Tang Yu bit his lip, just about to give his contact info, when She Qulin suddenly turned around and left without another word.
Tang Yu looked at his quickly retreating figure in confusion. Under the streetlight, She Qulin’s shadow raced ahead.
Maybe the players were distracted by something new?
With the bouncy players gone, the campus felt especially empty and cold, leaving only Tang Yu and the shadow that followed him step by step.
A thin, long shadow reached out its hand, its fingertip seemingly about to grab the foot Tang Yu had just lifted.
Tang Yu’s hand froze midair with the phone. He glanced around suspiciously, then lowered his foot back down—stepping on the dark shadow. The edge of the shadow rippled slightly.
Seeing no surveillance cameras, Tang Yu hesitated, then looked back at the phone displaying his dorm number:
623.
Tang Yu had lived off-campus with Shen Junxing from the beginning. Though he kept a bed registered at school, he had never used it.
After a long walk, he arrived at the dorm building.
The dark lobby was deserted. Tang Yu fumbled toward the stairwell and began to climb to the sixth floor, using the wall as a guide.
The lights in the stairwell wouldn’t turn on—maybe because of a power cut or they were broken.
He thought about turning on his phone flashlight but saw his battery was at just 2%. Tang Yu’s phone didn’t last long; 2% meant it could shut off any second.
He had to climb six floors, so better to conserve power.
Tang Yu shut off the phone and carefully climbed the stairs.
There wasn’t even a window in the stairwell—no moonlight could come in. In the pitch black, the atmosphere felt weirdly eerie.
Maybe it was the lingering trauma from Shen Junxing climbing the stairs behind him earlier.
Every few steps, Tang Yu’s back prickled, as if something was following him.
The stairwell was freezing. Cold air crept along his exposed skin, and that single thought sent goosebumps across his whole body.
Tang Yu forced himself not to overthink, quickly reaching the second floor. He reached for a light switch on the wall—finally found one, but it didn’t respond.
Probably a scheduled power outage.
Gritting his teeth, Tang Yu continued upward in the dark.
He was in poor shape—just a few stairs left him breathless. But he didn’t dare stop. An overwhelming sense of dread gnawed at him.
After climbing for a while, Tang Yu lost track of where he was—fourth floor? Fifth?
Just then, a voice suddenly called out from the depths of the hallway on this floor: “Tang Yu.”
It was the coach’s voice.
Tang Yu froze for a moment. He heard the coach say, “I’ve been waiting here for you for a long time. Why are you only arriving now?”
“I—I ran into a little trouble on the way. Thank you for waiting, teacher,” Tang Yu quickly replied.
“Alright, never mind that. Come over quickly,” the coach urged.
Tang Yu hurried toward the hallway on this floor. The corridor was very dark, and he walked slowly.
“Don’t worry, you won’t fall over this way,” the coach reassured him.
Tang Yu took two steps, then suddenly stopped. He realized something—
How could the coach in the dark recognize him from so far away?
“Tang Yu, why aren’t you coming over?” the coach asked. “Where are you?”
Tang Yu held his breath, standing dazedly in place.
“Ding-dong~”
A phone notification suddenly rang out. In the dead silence of the hallway, it was especially jarring.
Tang Yu slowly lowered his head.
Coach (via message): “Tang Yu, it’s so late already. You’re still not in your dorm?”
…Why was the coach asking if he was in the dorm if he was already in the hallway?
That’s right. The real coach always addressed him as “Student Tang Yu,” not just “Tang Yu.”
Since the real coach was messaging him, then who—or what—was the one calling him over?
Tang Yu took a small step back. The voice from the end of the hallway suddenly changed tone. It grew louder and louder, as if rushing out of the darkness: “Tang Yu! Why aren’t you coming over?!”
A bone-deep chill exploded down Tang Yu’s spine. He abruptly turned around, frantically turning on his phone’s flashlight, and glanced at the floor number—fifth floor.
Almost there! He just had to reach the sixth floor!
Clutching the stair rail, Tang Yu scrambled upward. When he finally finished climbing the stairs, the coach’s voice suddenly echoed again from the stairwell: “Student Tang Yu, come over quickly. Come to teacher.”
Student Tang Yu?
Was it the real coach this time?
Tang Yu’s hand trembled as he held his phone. The shaking light beam happened to fall on the floor number—
5.
A cold wave surged from his feet to the top of his head. Why was he still on the fifth floor?!
“Student Tang Yu, why aren’t you coming? Why aren’t you coming! Why aren’t you coming!!!”
That eerie scream rang out through the entire corridor, surging toward Tang Yu like a tidal wave.
His limbs went weak with fear. He fled blindly downward. The light from his phone illuminated a small section of the stairs. His footsteps pounded as frantically as his heart, but the next second—the flashlight cut out.
Battery: 2%. Now drained.
Darkness reclaimed the stairwell.
Tang Yu’s mind went blank. Driven by sheer survival instinct, he—
Took off his mask.
This was his last resort when pushed to the brink by something deranged. But now…
“Do ghosts care about looks?”
All the strange noises around him abruptly ceased. The endless screaming disappeared entirely. For a moment, only Tang Yu’s deafening heartbeat remained. In this suffocating silence, he froze for two seconds— Then realized: he’d just done something stupid with his Intelligence 5 brain again.
He kept running in a panic, but after everything that happened, he tripped on the stairs and fell into the darkness.
…Should’ve asked a fellow player to go back to the dorm together.
As Tang Yu regretted this, a slender, powerful hand suddenly caught his shoulder and stopped his fall.
Tang Yu dumbly looked up—and saw, in the thick darkness, a glowing blue status panel:
NPC – Li Sheng
【Intelligence】: 9
【Constitution】: 1
【Agility】: 9
【Strength】: 9
【Luck】:8
【Charm】: 9
The hand on Tang Yu’s shoulder released him. Pale, elegant fingers glowed faintly in the pitch-black, and a subtle, cold fragrance lingered on the retreating fingertips.
The glowing panel lifted upward—Li Sheng seemed to be standing and heading up the stairs.
Tang Yu stared blankly upward. He saw the panel turn slightly—it seemed the person in the dark looked back.
A cold voice spoke, calm yet commanding: “Keep up.”
The short sentence hit Tang Yu like a bucket of ice water. He shivered and finally snapped out of his daze, staggering after Li Sheng.
He was certain now—he’d encountered something like a ghost bus.
And this Li Sheng… His stat panel had even more 9s than Shen Junxing’s. He likely had mysterious powers too.
The glowing panel moved swiftly in the dark. Tang Yu couldn’t see the path but rushed to follow. As the faint blue light threatened to disappear ahead, he panicked and tripped again.
His knee hit something sharp—pain surged.
Tang Yu sucked in a breath. If Shen Junxing were here, he’d definitely be complaining about how bruised his knee must be.
“So stupid.” That icy voice came from above again. Tang Yu snapped his head up to see Li Sheng’s panel reappear.
His pale blue eyes looked absent in the dark. Snow-white fingertips seemed to sense the world in place of eyes, carefully probing around, bearing the burden of an injured leg.
Right now, in the darkness, Tang Yu looked…
Pitiful.
He looked pitiful.
So Li Sheng saw it.
Tang Yu thought seriously.
In the dark, most people wouldn’t be able to see. But if Li Sheng had scolded him for being stupid, then he must’ve seen him fall.
Right—Li Sheng had just caught his shoulder in the dark. Of course he could see.
So Li Sheng had seen his face.
Tang Yu blinked and looked up, aligning his gaze with where he guessed Li Sheng’s eyes would be based on the panel’s height.
1, 2, 3…
At the count of three, Li Sheng’s panel lowered. He walked to Tang Yu and said coldly, “I’ll carry you.”
Tang Yu slowly stood up and replied mildly, “Thank you, but it’s just a small injury—I can manage.”
Li Sheng’s panel moved forward again, this time very slowly. Even with Tang Yu limping, he could keep up.
Under Li Sheng’s lead, Tang Yu entered a dorm room. “This is…”
“623,” Li Sheng replied.
So he was his roommate. The coach must’ve told Li Sheng in advance that Tang Yu would be moving in. Tang Yu didn’t have a key, so Li Sheng might’ve stayed up waiting for him.
Dorm 6 housed mostly upperclassmen. Tang Yu was an exception—there were no other available rooms when he was assigned, so they placed him in 623.
Thinking this, Tang Yu sincerely said: “Thank you for your help tonight, senior. My name is Tang Yu.”
Li Sheng didn’t respond.
The dorm was so quiet it felt dead.
Unbothered, Tang Yu went about his things. He felt around the wall and found the light switch, but no matter how many times he flicked it, it didn’t work. Since Li Sheng made no move either, Tang Yu figured the power must’ve shut off for the night.
Feeling his way through the dark, he found an empty bed and clumsily climbed up with his injured leg.
As he finally sat down, another problem hit him:
He hadn’t brought a blanket.
It was too late to buy one now. Maybe he could ask Li Sheng…
But bedding was personal. Li Sheng might not want to lend his out.
Tang Yu curled up on the hard bed, arms hugging his legs, resting his head lightly against his uninjured knee—ready to just get through the night like this.
Suddenly, a dull thud landed by his feet, startling him.
“Are you mute?” Li Sheng said coldly.
Tang Yu reached out and touched the object tossed beside him.
It felt like…
A stack of bedding.
Silky and very comfortable to the touch.
“…Thank you, senior.”
He couldn’t see a thing, so he messily spread the sheets as best as he could.
Tang Yu crawled into the blanket.
Though it was dry, it felt chilling, like it had just come out of an air-conditioned room. There was even a faint cold fragrance.
Tang Yu tried to warm himself, but no matter what, the chill remained. Maybe the temperature had dropped tonight.
Still, after everything that happened, he was utterly exhausted.
Curled up in the cool bedding, he drifted off into a hazy sleep.
…..
Morning sunlight filled the dorm.
As Tang Yu opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a strange curtain on the bed across from him: A white canopy, black valance, and long drapes.
The long black-and-white fabric not only covered the bed, but even the desk beneath it was tightly concealed—it looked very odd.
Tang Yu curiously glanced around and saw that, aside from that strange bed, there were two empty beds, and the one he had slept in.
Last night, Li Sheng had given him a silver silk bedspread embossed with golden patterns—the design consisted of interlocking straight lines forming a repetitive square motif.
Tang Yu looked at the dusty gray bedboard. When he touched it, a thick layer of dust coated his fingertip.
…Li Sheng really didn’t have any obligation to clean the other beds.
But he did have an obligation to wash the bedding Li Sheng lent him.
Hugging the bedding, Tang Yu climbed down the ladder. After sleeping on the hard bedboard all night, his whole body ached, but strangely, the injury on his left knee didn’t hurt at all.
Tang Yu, puzzled, rolled up his pants. When he pulled the fabric to his knee, his eyes widened—
The skin around the knee was fair and smooth, without a single mark.
Tang Yu leaned in to look closely—there wasn’t even a hint of redness, only a faint, barely detectable cool fragrance lingering at the tip of his nose.
…How strange. When did his wound heal so quickly? Or did it only feel painful last night, but wasn’t actually injured?
Tang Yu didn’t think too much more about it. Unsure if Li Sheng was still resting upstairs, he moved as quietly as possible and tiptoed into the bathroom.
The bathroom light was broken, and the mirror was covered in a layer of dust. When he turned on the faucet, rusty-red water gushed out after a few seconds. It ran for a while before finally turning clear.
Tang Yu knew unused faucets could behave like this. But hadn’t Li Sheng been living here? Had the pipes suddenly gone bad?
As long as no one tells him this dorm is haunted, it’s fine.
Of course, even if someone did tell him, nothing would happen. He’d just get angry and storm off.
Expressionless, Tang Yu turned off the faucet without using the water and left Room 623 with the bedding, heading toward the laundry room.
At this hour, few people were awake, and there were only two or three others in the laundry room. Just as Tang Yu threw the bedding into the washer, a surprised voice came from behind:
“Tang Yu?”
An unfamiliar voice.
Tang Yu turned his head and first looked at the name panel above the person’s head.
A name he didn’t recognize.
His life was always full of people who seemed to know him, while he had no idea who they were. After a couple of seconds, Tang Yu suddenly realized that when he interacted with others, he always stared at the top of their heads—which probably looked like he was rolling his eyes from their perspective.
He once overheard classmates wondering if he avoided eye contact because he disliked them.
Tang Yu quickly, almost frantically, looked into this person’s eyes.
The classmate had bright eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you here! Which dorm are you in?”
“623,” Tang Yu replied softly.
The moment he said it, the classmate—who had been staring at him intensely—had a dramatic change in expression: “What?! You’re living in 623?!”
The sudden spike in volume startled Tang Yu.
“Haven’t you heard the rumor?! Do you know—” the classmate suddenly lowered his voice, as if afraid of disturbing something, and said sneakily, “Go look it up on the forum—keywords: 623, Li.”
After that, he hurried off with his laundry basket, as if nothing had happened.
Tang Yu stood there in a daze.
He pulled out his dead phone. While waiting for the laundry cycle to finish, he borrowed a power bank from a nearby dorm mate, turned on his phone, replied to the flood of messages from his anxious coach, then logged into the campus forum and searched for “Li Sheng” and “623.”
Hot post:
#Li Sheng living alone in Room 623—what kind of academic god privilege is this?#
Main post:
[There are already too few beds in the old campus. Some freshmen have even been squeezed into our dorms. How does Li Sheng get a whole four-person dorm to himself?]
Reply 1:
[Li Shen does have roommates, they just switched to commuting.]
Reply 2:
[Heard Tang Yu’s assigned bed is in 623.]
Reply 3:
[What?! Tang Yu lives in 623?!]
Reply 4:
[What?! Tang Yu and Li Sheng live together?!]
Reply 5:
[What?! Tang Yu and Li Sheng slept together?!]
Reply 6:
[Wishing them 99 (a slang way of saying “lasting love”)]
Reply 7:
[They do match. Wishing 99.]
……
Tang Yu: “…?”
Tang Yu quietly closed the forum tab.
He hadn’t expected that what this classmate had been trying so hard not to say… was this rumor.
