Three hours remained before the competition ended, but Jiang Luo wasn’t in a hurry to submit his answer.
He calmed the adrenaline rush from outsmarting the evil spirit and walked over to Ye Xun, standing beside him as they stared at the retrieved doll, Little Pink.
Little Pink’s cotton stuffing was exposed, soaked in water. The torn parts looked like they had been slashed by sharp blades—utterly pitiful.
Jiang Luo had once fought alongside Little Pink against the Ren Mian Ke and vaguely understood how important the doll was to Ye Xun. After a moment of silence, he asked with unfamiliar awkwardness, “Is Little Pink okay?”
Ye Xun said nothing as he stared at the rabbit doll torn in half, his eyes slowly reddening. Kuang Zheng, who had just jumped in to retrieve the doll, was wringing out his soaked clothes. Wenren Lian handed him a long towel from the pool and asked with concern, “Can it still be fixed?”
Kuang Zheng didn’t even dry himself properly. He quickly walked to Little Pink’s side and squatted down. As a tool refiner, he had a unique connection with the tools he forged. After inspecting the doll, his expression eased slightly. “It can be repaired.”
Ye Xun looked up sharply at him, his anxiety written all over his face though he said nothing.
“But it requires a special material,” Kuang Zheng said, slightly uneasy under everyone’s gaze. “A wraith willing to be absorbed by the doll. The wraith’s resentment enhances the doll’s energy.”
Ge Zhu sighed. “A willing wraith? That won’t be easy to find…”
Jiang Luo pressed his lips together, then suddenly stood up. “Aren’t there two resentful wraiths on campus?”
Zhuo Zhongqiu exclaimed, “You mean those two ghost girls?”
Ye Xun looked at Jiang Luo, his eyes filled with hope. Jiang Luo raised an eyebrow and returned the look. “If we help fulfill their wishes, they might just agree willingly.”
Kuang Zheng whispered, “Actually, we only need one.”
Lu Youyi and Cyril stayed behind to keep Ye Xun company, while the others followed Jiang Luo to search for the wraith. Although Jiang Luo had spoken confidently, he actually wasn’t very sure he could persuade the wraith to willingly become part of the wraith doll.
But perhaps Ye Xun looked too sad, or maybe it was because Jiang Luo had just dealt a major blow to the evil ghost and was still riding that emotional high—he had unexpectedly agreed to do something he wasn’t fully confident about.
Something he never would’ve done before.
Wang Xinhui’s spirit was on the sixth floor of the boys’ dormitory. Jiang Luo walked at the back of the group, a bit absent-minded. But as soon as he stepped onto the sixth-floor hallway, the companions in front of him suddenly vanished.
Jiang Luo frowned and focused on the corridor.
The lights flickered—the bulbs were the old models from years ago. The walls had a yellowish tint, as if the entire scene were overlaid with an aged filter.
The concrete floor was damp, and the far end of the corridor was pitch-black, like the gaping mouth of some monstrous beast.
This wasn’t his first time—Jiang Luo knew he had once again been dragged into a ghost’s memory.
His constitution was truly “lucky” like that. But after facing off against Chi You, the strongest evil ghost in the entire story, all other ghosts now seemed relatively insignificant to Jiang Luo. He calmly walked forward, heading straight to the bathroom.
A blood-covered girl staggered out of the bathroom.
It was Wang Xinhui. Her clothes were mostly torn to shreds, and her body was covered in dirty bootprints. Her face was swollen, and she limped forward on a twisted left leg, glancing behind her in terror.
Behind her, three men emerged from the bathroom. Like cats toying with a mouse, they didn’t hurry to catch her, instead trailing after her slowly.
Jiang Luo watched Wang Xinhui run into a familiar dorm room—coincidentally, the very room they had been staying in for the past three days.
His brow twitched, and he stepped inside the dorm.
Wang Xinhui frantically braced herself against the door, but was still knocked down by the three strong workers. What followed was too bloody and cruel—Wang Xinhui fought desperately and slammed into a metal bedpost, her face covered in blood as she drew her final breath.
The workers cursed, calling her a “d*mn sl*t.” Their unsatisfied rage overwhelmed their remaining sanity—they killed her right there in the dorm, dismembered her, and flushed the pieces down the toilet in batches.
This scene linked back to what Bai Yefeng had seen earlier in the bathroom. Jiang Luo had always thought Wang Xinhui died in the bathroom—but it turned out she was killed in the dorm.
And the bed she slammed into? The same one Jiang Luo had been sleeping on.
He was speechless at his own cursed luck. As he turned away, he noticed a book that had fallen beside the bed. He picked it up—it was Wang Xinhui’s notebook.
Meanwhile, the workers flushed the blood down the dorm’s shower drain. Jiang Luo followed Jin Yuangao into the bathroom, watching as his hands trembled while he poured basins of thick blood into the pipes.
Jiang Luo suddenly remembered the first day he moved in—when the shower water ran red. His face blank, he thought: was that Wang Xinhui’s blood?
Heh. How delightfully surprising.
Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly froze. At some point, a bloody, mutilated female ghost had appeared beside him.
Her face was pale, blood continuously oozing from her skin. Her blood-red eyes bulged as she stared at Jin Yuangao, muttering, “Boyfriend… girlfriend… boyfriend… girlfriend…”
Jiang Luo recognized her as Wang Xinhui’s ghost. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but still said, “A boyfriend like that isn’t worth keeping.”
Wang Xinhui slowly turned her head, her hollow gaze locking onto him.
So she could hear. That made things easier.
Jiang Luo asked calmly, “Why didn’t you kill Jin Yuangao? Do you still love him?”
Wang Xinhui muttered, “Boyfriend… girlfriend…”
Jiang Luo asked, “Do you have any wishes you want fulfilled?”
Wang Xinhui repeated stiffly, “Boyfriend… girlfriend…”
Jiang Luo: “…”
He realized that most vengeful spirits had severely fragmented consciousness. They might not even know what they were doing. A ghost like Chi You, who became even more powerful after death, was truly one in a million.
Not wasting time, Jiang Luo dragged Wang Xinhui out of the dorm, slapped a talisman on the hallway wall, and in the next instant, the illusion shattered—revealing Kuang Zheng and the others.
They had been searching for him. Seeing him appear suddenly with a ghost in tow, they didn’t have time to be surprised—their eyes instantly focused on Wang Xinhui.
Jiang Luo asked, “How do we get her to willingly agree?”
Kuang Zheng walked up with the barely-patched-up Little Pink in his arms. Wang Xinhui seemed to be stirred by the aura of the wraith doll. A flicker of confusion passed through her eyes, and she briefly regained clarity.
Kuang Zheng carefully asked, “Would you be willing to become part of this doll? We can help you fulfill your wish in return. Becoming part of the wraith doll doesn’t mean death—you’ll still have your own consciousness, just in a different form.”
Wang Xinhui’s face was pale and swollen. She looked at the doll for a moment and rasped, “Find her… find her…”
Jiang Luo asked, “Fu Yuaner?”
Wang Xinhui looked at him. “Find… her…”
“We already found her,” Jiang Luo said. “Do you have any other wishes?”
Wang Xinhui looked down blankly at the hairclip in her hand.
She didn’t seem to fully understand what Jiang Luo meant. Looking at the pitiful state she was in, Jiang Luo sighed with a headache, “Fine. If you want to be laid to rest, that’s okay too… Just make sure in your next life you don’t end up with a trash boyfriend like that again.”
Jiang Luo had already given up, but Wang Xinhui suddenly stepped forward and dove into the mouth of the wraith doll.
The female ghost vanished, leaving behind only a hair clip that fell to the ground.
Kuang Zheng immediately sealed the mouth of the wraith doll and wrapped it in the yellow silk cloth that had been prepared in advance. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief and say, “It’s done.”
Jiang Luo picked up the hair clip Wang Xinhui had left behind and looked down at it for a while. “There’s still one vengeful spirit left.”
But halfway there, Zhuo Zhongqiu received a call and told them, “Fu Yuaner’s body is no longer at the school. Also, my old man told me something,” she paused, “At the police station, Liu Zhi said he didn’t know there were four corpses in the wall.”
Everyone was stunned.
What did that mean?
They still went to the office, hoping to find Fu Yuaner’s vengeful spirit, but didn’t. Fortunately, one vengeful spirit’s power was enough. The group took advantage of the approaching end of the competition to submit their answer to the staff.
For the competition, they had to write down all the key points the participants had figured out. Jiang Luo took two sheets of A4 paper and wrote down the entire sequence of events in swift, sweeping strokes.
Fu Yuaner and Wang Xinhui were close friends. From the diary, it was revealed that all of Wang Xinhui’s jewelry had been gifts from Fu Yuaner. Because of this, Liu Zhi recognized the accessory Wang Xinhui dropped—it was something he had once given to Fu Yuaner.
Jiang Luo wrote down the basic sequence of events, but one question remained: why didn’t Liu Zhi know there were four corpses inside the wall?
Jiang Luo tried to write down his speculation.
After Fu Yuaner was murdered, during the school expansion, Liu Zhi had her walled up inside the office wall, keeping her always within sight. Later, he started dating again, but afraid someone might discover Fu Yuaner’s body, he never took time off to go on dates with his girlfriends, and would even visit the office on his days off.
His girlfriends began to grow suspicious. Under their questioning, Liu Zhi, fearing they might uncover his secret, struck them down.
After killing one, a second would follow. Liu Zhi became more cunning in how he handled the bodies—it wasn’t necessarily that he bricked them all into the wall.
But Fu Yuaner, buried within that back-to-back white wall, pulled those other corpses close to her…
After submitting the answer, Jiang Luo walked out of the room. To him, this three-day competition was finally over. He stretched, then stood by the roadside under the gloomy sky to wait.
His companions trickled out one after another, and the group boarded the staff shuttle back to the hotel.
At the hotel, Jiang Luo planned to pack his things and relax in Yunnan for a couple of days. But before the results were even out, Feng Li summoned all the Feng family disciples among the contestants to meet him in the hotel garden.
At times like this, even Jiang Luo—a disciple under a minor, nominal master—had to follow the rules and go see Feng Li.
He had lunch first, then lazily made his way to the garden.
There were many Feng family disciples. Among the 130 participants, about a third were somehow connected to the Feng family.
Though there were many people, few had ever seen Feng Li in person. So everyone arrived early for the rare chance to meet the Heavenly Master.
When Jiang Luo arrived, he was already at the very back, hidden behind several rows of people.
He was more than happy to stay hidden in the rear.
Once the crowd had mostly gathered, Feng Li entered with two of his direct disciples. His expression was calm, and his long Tang suit brushed against his feet, as if he had stepped out of a painting.
Feng Li’s gaze swept through the crowd and slowly settled on Jiang Luo.
He shifted direction and walked toward Jiang Luo. The disciples blocking Jiang Luo’s way stepped aside one by one, revealing the black-haired youth at the very back.
The youth had already changed out of the bloodstained clothes from Bai Yefeng. His long black hair was loosely tied with a band, his red lips curled in a half-hearted smirk, eyelids drooping—like a lazy, disinterested big cat.
Feng Li looked at him. An invisible, sinister aura coiled tightly around Jiang Luo, clawing and gnashing like a beast.
He frowned and said coldly, “There’s a malicious ghost beside you that wants to kill you.”
Jiang Luo’s smile froze.
A ghost that wanted to kill him?
Besides Chi You, he couldn’t think of anyone else.
But Jiang Luo couldn’t sense Chi You at all.
He was still too weak.
A surge of violent emotion swept through Jiang Luo’s heart. In the next moment, his eyes reddened, and he anxiously turned to the side. “Teacher Feng, where is it?”
Feng Li reached out, trying to grasp the raging black mist. But it only tightened further around Jiang Luo, as if trying to crush him.
Feng Li paused and looked at Jiang Luo again. The youth’s listless expression vanished. Carefully, he asked, “Chi You?”
This vulnerable version of the black-haired youth was a stark contrast to the sharp, commanding figure seen in the competition livestream—yet both were equally captivating. Tears welled in his eyes. Feng Li instinctively reached out to catch one, but in the next instant, the clear drop turned into a bead of bright red blood.
Feng Li’s face turned cold. He pulled out a tissue, wiped the blood-tear away, and raised his head to face the black mist.
From the mist emerged a malevolent ghost—handsome as a deity. He smiled, warning Feng Li pleasantly, “Don’t touch him.”
The ghost tilted his head to look at Jiang Luo, his gaze as tender as that of a lover. His smile deepened, lips curved—but the twisted, cruel killing intent in his eyes was thick enough to feel tangible. “After all, he’s the one I love.”
He whispered darkly and seductively, “How could I let anyone else touch him?”
Seeing Jiang Luo’s performance just now…
The furious ghost was seized by a new, intense desire.
Before he killed Jiang Luo, he would make him experience utter despair, unable to live, unable to die.
He wanted that reckless mouth of his to beg for mercy, wanted those eyes to shed only tears of terror.
He wanted to turn Jiang Luo’s current performance of false calm into genuine fear and regret.
This idea burned ever hotter, entangled with the vengeful ghost’s fury and murderous intent, only intensifying the ghost’s sinister interest.
He was even growing impatient, eager to see the expression he desired appear on Jiang Luo’s face right away.
But he wasn’t in a rush.
The best gift should be unwrapped with the greatest sense of ceremony—don’t you agree?
Author’s Note:
Gong (top): Of course I’ll be the one to kill him and take all his tears away :-D
Shou (bottom): Heh.
