During morning reading the next day, Qin Shu arrived at school carrying both the peachwood sword and the eyeball, then openly sprawled across his desk and caught up on sleep once again.
Pei Zhao, meanwhile, ate the ice cream Qin Shu had bought as an apology and very reasonably agreed to keep watch for him. He was in a fairly good mood.
Since eating left him no time to work on his test papers, Pei Zhao’s attention began to wander. His gaze settled on the back of Qin Shu’s head, where his hair was slightly messy, then traveled down his broad back before finally stopping at the pocket of his school jacket.
Jiangcheng’s school uniform design was thoroughly ordinary. The only thing worth praising was how astonishingly spacious the pockets were. Boys and girls were treated equally: the pockets in both the jackets and trousers concealed depths of their own and could forcibly accommodate an entire bottle of Coke. They were remarkably convenient.
As a result, Pei Zhao quickly noticed something was off. His expression gradually became subtle, and he reached directly into Qin Shu’s pocket. The warmth of the young man’s body made Pei Zhao instinctively furrow his brows, but he did not stop moving. Slowly, he withdrew the acrylic box.
After staring at the gray-white eyeball inside for a moment, Pei Zhao had not even done anything when the eyeball began trembling violently. It suddenly burst apart, turning into a puddle of putrid liquid that seeped thread by thread into the velvet cushion.
Judging by its behavior, it had panicked and tried to hide inside the black cushion, like an ostrich burying its head deep in the sand.
Pei Zhao was somewhat speechless. His brows furrowed even more tightly as he said softly, “Change back.”
Several seconds later, the eyeball tremblingly returned to its original form. It was so frightened that it accidentally grew several tiny tendril-like limbs, which tangled with its lifeless capillaries in a twisted, hideous mass. Standing on the cushion, it shivered uncontrollably.
“Ugly.”
Seeing that the eyeball was at least obedient, Pei Zhao calmly offered this extremely concise judgment. He did not pursue the matter any further and simply stuffed the box back into Qin Shu’s pocket.
It was merely a little thing whose resentment had already faded by half. He could let Qin Shu keep it to play with. It did not matter.
As for the peachwood sword blatantly stuffed into Qin Shu’s backpack, with most of its blade exposed and a finely carved golden dragon coiling around it… Pei Zhao narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as he examined it, confirming that it was indeed high-quality lightning-struck peachwood.
A peachwood sword, also known as dragon-subduing wood or ghost-frightening wood, was an excellent tool for warding off evil and protecting a household. It was also one of the ritual implements considered essential by both genuine and fraudulent Daoist priests. In the hands of someone skilled with a sword, it could be terrifyingly lethal, producing remarkable effects even without being powered by spiritual energy.
That was why Pei Zhao disliked it—and disliked the idea of seeing Qin Shu holding it even more.
So when morning reading ended, Qin Shu forced himself upright while still half asleep, turned his head, and found himself face-to-face with Pei Zhao’s beautiful, expressionless features. The distance between them was frighteningly close. Those golden-amber eyes were shadowed, appearing almost purely gold, with a faint hint of displeasure within them.
Qin Shu’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. A chaotic assortment of ghostly faces flashed before his eyes and vanished just as quickly. The relentless horrors of the past several days surged into his mind, startling him so badly that his breathing briefly stopped before Pei Zhao’s face returned to normal.
It felt like a sudden waking nightmare. Perhaps he had not slept well while lying across his desk during morning reading and had dragged the mess inside his head into reality.
Even more frighteningly, if he leaned forward just a little farther, the tips of their noses would collide violently. That would be a truly painful traffic accident.
“Z-Zhaozhao… what’s wrong?” Still shaken, Qin Shu took a moment to recover before asking.
“I don’t like peachwood swords. Put it in storage from now on. Don’t bring it to school, and don’t hang it anywhere you can see it.” Pei Zhao still did not move back. His faintly dissatisfied gaze remained fixed on Qin Shu’s face, and his tone grew slightly heavier.
Qin Shu froze for a moment but did not refuse. After all, he had long privately suspected that someone in Pei Zhao’s family also understood this sort of thing. Otherwise, Pei Zhao would not have been able to smell ghosts, nor would he possess such miraculous moisturizer.
The most obvious example had happened last night. Even after showering, Qin Shu had continued feeling as though the smell of rotting corpses lingered on his hands. He scrubbed until his fingertips wrinkled, but it did no good. He simply could not get past the psychological barrier.
The moment he imagined Pei Zhao smelling it on him the following day, Qin Shu had run back into the living room and dug the silver metal tin from his backpack. He scooped out a large amount of the clear, smooth moisturizer and applied it thickly.
The moment it touched his fingers, half the corpse stench disappeared. The effect was outstanding, and he had slept very well too.
Thus, Qin Shu readily accepted Pei Zhao’s opinion and agreed without hesitation. He then continued asking curiously, “All right, I’ll listen to you. Can I bring the gourd pendant? Look, it’s Hetian jade.”
“You can. That one is useless.” Pei Zhao sat back down, lowered his eyes, and began tidying the ice cream wrappers on the desk, putting some distance between them.
“…Oh.”
By useless, he probably meant useless against ghosts. Qin Shu understood, but he was not especially disappointed.
The gifts Auntie Su gave him were never poor quality. Besides, jade was said to be nurtured by the person wearing it. Perhaps if he kept it close to his body for long enough, it might eventually cultivate some good-luck properties.
Honestly, now that things had reached this point, Qin Shu very much wanted to take the eyeball from his pocket and show it to Pei Zhao. But that was an eyeball from a corpse in an advanced state of decomposition, and the smell… What if it stank up the place and offended him?
Forget it, forget it.
Qin Shu kept his mouth shut and restrained himself.
Nothing happened that morning. At least, the advanced class remained rather peaceful. Because of last night’s jumping incident, all physical education classes throughout the school were canceled and replaced with self-study.
Everyone cheered enthusiastically. Quite a few people were still asking why the boy had jumped, because the moment the incident occurred, the dorm supervisor had immediately locked the girls’ dormitory and kept it sealed until the police finished cordoning off the area and cleaning away the blood.
Almost none of the girls had witnessed the horrific scene, nor did they want to look at the bloody photographs taken by the boys. But Tang Rui Cheng from their own class had been innocently injured and was still lying in the hospital, while the school also forbade students from spreading anything online… Naturally, everyone became even more curious about what had happened.
Qin Shu did not actively join the discussion. He merely sat quietly in the back row, propping his chin on one hand as he eavesdropped.
“Hey, I know. The homeroom teacher of the elite class is going through menopause. He loses his temper all day and even leads the way in stirring up trouble. He secretly runs an off-campus tutoring class too, and it’s insanely expensive. Anyone who refuses to pay for lessons gets publicly rolled eyes at by him!”
“Wait, men go through menopause too?”
“Why wouldn’t they? And he’s wildly ambitious. He wants the elite class to overtake ours in the next citywide exam. It’s hilarious. Who knows where he gets the confidence?”
“With the academic representative here, the elite class won’t surpass us in this lifetime. Anything is possible in dreams… So what, their homeroom teacher drove the kid into jumping? I remember that boy was always third in the grade at the final exams. Even someone with grades that good was being pressured?”
“Yeah. I heard he was from an impoverished family. Really poor. He entered No. 2 High School among the top ten on the entrance examination, and the school had always waived his tuition. But because he refused to attend that old bastard’s extracurricular lessons, the teacher deliberately blocked his financial assistance this year. He also stopped him from attending the winter camp at Jing University during the break and even removed his low-income student status for next semester.”
“Damn, that’s vicious. He left him no way to survive… Wait, A’Dong, how do you know so much? Did you break into the principal’s office?”
“Bullshit. His younger sister was my sister’s middle-school classmate. The two kids are close. The little girl called last night and cried until she fainted several times. Even my mom started crying. Ah, he still had a younger brother and sister at home, and they were already a single-parent family. Things were hard enough, and now the brother with the best grades jumped first. What is that family supposed to do from now on?”
“What can they do? If I were him, even as a ghost, I wouldn’t let that old bastard off. Before I dragged him down with me, I wouldn’t be able to close my eyes even inside the crematorium.”
The moment Qin Shu heard this, he abruptly became alert, and every trace of lingering drowsiness from the previous class vanished.
This was bad. Something like that truly could happen. Especially over the past few days, the atmosphere at No. 2 High School had become so sinister. Everyone was shrouded beneath the dark clouds covering the sky, making them all look as though their foreheads had turned black with misfortune…
No. Absolutely not. He had to go to the dormitory rooftop and inspect it personally.
“Zhaozhao, can I borrow your meal card?” Qin Shu lowered his voice and secretly asked Pei Zhao.
“Did you spend all your money?” Pei Zhao glanced at him and handed over the card. There seemed to be a faint note of reproach in his voice, though it contained even more indulgence. “I’ll pay for your meals from now on. You don’t need to return the card.”
This sudden display of generosity made Qin Shu laugh. Unable to resist, he reached out and pinched Pei Zhao’s cheek. “Oh, Zhaozhao, how can you be so cute…”
“Mm. Don’t pinch.”
Despite his words, Pei Zhao did not dodge. The reproach in his eyes merely became more pronounced.
Qin Shu curved his lips in a smile. One hand remained pressed against the side of Pei Zhao’s face, rubbing his slightly cool skin until it became warm, while the other slid downward along his wrist. Their fingertips tangled for an instant, and in the blink of an eye, Qin Shu hooked the keychain-shaped meal card and drew it into his palm.
“Not only are you cute, you have such a good temper too. It’s worrying.” Qin Shu, now satisfied, instead turned slightly serious. “Zhaozhao, if someone else treated you like this, would you know how to refuse them? You can’t let people pinch your face whenever they want, and you can’t casually lend money either. Don’t be like me and get tricked all the time. You’ll end up running into terrible things.”
“…Mm.” Pei Zhao was silent for a long moment before giving an ambiguous response.
He looked obedient enough, but Qin Shu suddenly found it difficult to understand what he was actually thinking.
He would keep watching.
The two of them stared at each other in silence for a moment before Qin Shu realized his hand was still resting against Pei Zhao’s face. Pei Zhao merely sat there, unconsciously puffing out the cheek being pinched, his attention already beginning to drift naturally farther and farther away.
He truly was a little cute, yet for some inexplicable reason, Qin Shu felt a trace of panic—and a little guilt.
“Cough… Zhaozhao, are you hot?”
“Hot.”
Qin Shu smoothly withdrew his hand, then abruptly stood up and stuffed the meal card into his pocket. “I’m going to take care of something first. This class was changed to self-study anyway. I’ll probably pass the school store later. Do you want me to buy you anything?”
Pei Zhao’s eyes lit up. “Ice—”
“No ice cream. You’ve eaten too much over the past two days!”
Pei Zhao’s eyes dimmed. “Then forget it.”
Their discussion about buying snacks ended without agreement. Qin Shu did not delay any further. The moment he left the classroom, he quickened his steps and raced downstairs, circling the stair railing.
The acrylic box in his pocket bounced repeatedly, producing a rising and falling series of knocks that resonated with the rattling of his school-uniform zipper. The sound made Qin Shu uncomfortable. A faint sense of foreboding stirred in his heart, though he worried that the past two days had simply made him excessively suspicious.
How could that be possible? How could a haunting appear just because someone mentioned one?
“Something happened! Can anyone help?! Someone, come quickly!!”
Yet precisely then, Qin Shu heard a deep roar coming from the sports field below.
He ran out of the classroom building and looked toward the sound. Near the edge of the rubber track beside the field, a man lay on the ground.
A middle-aged man dressed in a shirt and suit trousers lay facedown and unconscious, his face hidden from view. But hanging from his belt was an unmistakable, enormous ring of keys.
—Teacher He, the homeroom teacher of the elite class.
Because of the jumping incident, No. 2 High School had suspended every outdoor class for the day and advised students to avoid going outside frequently in case anyone attempted to imitate the act.
As a result, the sports field was now deserted. Only two tall, sturdy second-year students stood around him, while a chaotic assortment of test papers and exercise books lay scattered nearby.
Teacher He had probably called them over to help carry books. They had not expected to encounter something like this and could only shout for help in panic.
At a glance, Qin Shu could tell that Teacher He was already dead.
He could not explain why. It felt more like a sudden flash of intuition. Yet he did not give up immediately. He rushed over, rolled Teacher He onto his back, forced open his mouth to check that nothing was obstructing it, then straddled him and began chest compressions at once.
Qin Shu had performed CPR many times and was highly practiced. While rhythmically pressing down hard with both hands, he still had enough breath to issue instructions. “The AED is mounted on the wall outside the infirmary. It’s red and easy to see. If the school doctor isn’t there, break the glass directly. You have long legs, so run and get it. And you—go call a teacher. Hurry!”
Once someone took command, the panicked younger students seemed to find their anchor and immediately split up to act.
Qin Shu had no time to think about anything else. His first instinct was to use all his strength to save the man. The dull sounds of ribs breaking echoed in his ears, along with the faint rush of breath he forced from Teacher He’s body. In the depths of winter, Qin Shu worked himself into a fine sweat, though it might also have been cold sweat.
The school doctor soon arrived carrying the defibrillator, sprinting behind the younger student. Qin Shu caught sight of them from the corner of his eye and immediately tore open Teacher He’s shirt with his bare hands. He helped the school doctor peel off the protective film and attach the electrode pads, then consciously pulled the younger students back.
Defibrillation, followed by chest compressions from the school doctor. Once, twice, three times… Qin Shu’s eyes suddenly widened.
Teacher He was breathing on his own!
The school doctor also noticed that his consciousness was returning and released a breath of relief. “Teacher He, can you hear me? The ambulance will be here soon. How do you feel?”
“Huff… huff…”
A long breath of foul air escaped from his damaged chest. Teacher He weakly opened his eyes, his gaze moving with painful slowness before consciously settling on Qin Shu.
Qin Shu suddenly noticed that his lips remained bluish-purple. Every fingernail had also changed color, showing no sign of recovery whatsoever.
His pupils were severely dilated, unresponsive to light and completely unable to focus. Teacher He seemed to be looking at Qin Shu, yet it was more as though he were staring into empty space—at something hidden above Qin Shu’s head or buried deep beneath the ground, exchanging gazes with someone who did not exist.
…Something was wrong.
Instinctively, Qin Shu followed that unfocused line of sight and turned around, abruptly meeting a pair of utterly black, hollow eyes and a deathly pale face drenched in blood.
A hideous centipede-like pattern crawled across its temple. Wet, viscous, unidentified liquid dripped from the corner of its eye.
Drip. Drip.
“No… no, don’t, don’t!!!”
In that split second, Qin Shu heard several fragmented, despairing screams, followed by a dull impact like a watermelon being smashed to pieces.
Shattered fragments of skull and brain tissue sprayed through the air. The connection between the head and neck snapped completely, and arterial blood spurted in intermittent streams, soaking Qin Shu’s back.
Teacher He was dead.
Completely and unmistakably dead.
Futile Devices Scans 
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