The detective’s heart abruptly lurched, and he instinctively lowered his head to check at once. Yet everywhere his gaze landed, the uniform he wore today remained crisp and neat, perfectly clean without even a speck of dust.
“…Student Qin, you’re already in your final year. You should focus on your studies instead of constantly thinking about ghosts and supernatural nonsense. It isn’t good for you.”
The moment Qin Shu told the plain and honest truth, no one believed him at all.
He had expected this. Smoothly putting on an obedient expression as though accepting the lecture, he stopped pursuing the matter.
Of course, he could tell that the detective was actually somewhat shaken inside.
Whether the man suspected that something was wrong with Qin Shu or had quietly begun wondering whether supernatural beings might truly exist… as long as Qin Shu’s words left a deep enough impression that the detective would remember whom to seek for help when he encountered a ghost, they would serve as a precaution.
After all, there truly was a black handprint on his shoulder, so conspicuous it looked entirely out of place. Unfortunately, Qin Shu had secretly observed the surroundings for a long time but still saw no suspicious ghost nearby. Perhaps the ghost had not followed the detective to the school, or perhaps the handprint was some kind of curse Qin Shu had yet to understand.
At present, there was truly nothing else Qin Shu could do beyond warning him. After honestly answering several routine questions, the detective helplessly allowed him to return to class.
Everyone in the classroom wore gossip-hungry expressions and was practically itching to crowd around and ask what had happened. Only under Old Fu’s individual glares did they barely restrain themselves.
That was only human nature. The moment they heard that the homeroom teacher who had driven a student into jumping had suddenly died—and apparently died a gruesome death at that—everyone’s heads stopped aching, their stomachs stopped feeling hungry, they no longer wanted to sleep, and even their arms ceased hurting from working through practice questions… One by one, they looked ready to applaud and tried every possible means to uncover more details.
Sure enough, anyone who had not personally witnessed a head explode could always enjoy the spectacle without considering the consequences.
“Disperse, disperse. We can’t talk about this. The police warned me that it has to remain confidential, so none of you are allowed to spread it around.”
Qin Shu casually muddled through with a few words, covered his still-damp head with the bath towel, and temporarily switched seats with Pei Zhao.
He hid at the desk beside the wall, sighed faintly, then buried his face inside the collar of the school jacket.
It smelled wonderful. This was actually Pei Zhao’s spare uniform.
Earlier, while classes were still in session, Qin Shu had gone specifically to the dormitory to shower and urgently change out of his blood-soaked jacket. Throughout the entire process, the dorm supervisor was the only person who had been frightened.
Tang Rui Cheng was still in the hospital, so after showering, Qin Shu could only borrow Pei Zhao’s uniform. This was the first time he had ever worn his deskmate’s clothes, and he had conveniently taken his bath towel too.
He did not know whether it was merely his imagination. Clearly, everyone used washing machines, yet Pei Zhao’s clothes somehow smelled more fragrant than his.
After breathing it in for a while, he even felt a little dizzy. The scent was strangely addictive.
…
Halfway through the class, the remaining time was assigned for students to complete test papers. Teacher Fu silently circled the classroom before finally stopping in the back corner as though by chance.
“Qin Shu, I need to ask you something… Why did the two of you switch seats? What are you doing?”
Pei Zhao put down his pen, tilted his head slightly, and answered in an extremely soft voice, “Teacher Fu, Qin Shu fell asleep.”
“Asleep? Ah, forget it. Let him sleep. This brat has encountered too many strange things lately. He looks carefree, but his mind is always full of thoughts. His parents are away from home all year, and there’s no one there for him to talk things through with. If this continues, he might develop emotional problems.”
Teacher Fu lowered his voice and patted Pei Zhao’s shoulder. “Pei Zhao, you’re the person closest to him and the student I trust most, so I’d like to discuss something with you. Keep an eye on him for me in everyday life. If the two of you have any small disagreements, try to be understanding toward each other first. All right?”
Naturally, Old Fu treated students with different personalities in different ways. With someone as detached from the outside world and excessively distant as Pei Zhao, he always chose a gentler approach.
He could only speak softly and negotiate with him. Otherwise, the student might genuinely have no interest in listening.
“All right, Teacher Fu.”
Pei Zhao agreed politely. At the same time, he shifted slightly aside, directly avoiding any further physical contact without making the slightest attempt to conceal his aversion.
Old Fu knew his personality as well. Apart from Qin Shu, who could casually put an arm around his shoulders, none of the other students seemed capable of becoming close to Pei Zhao. Everyone had their own preferred social distance, so Old Fu did not mind. He nodded, turned around, and continued patrolling the classroom.
After listening to Old Fu’s instructions, Pei Zhao decided to carry them out immediately.
Thoughtfully turning his head, he gently lifted the bath towel covering Qin Shu’s head and stroked the fluffy back of his hair.
In the next instant, however, Pei Zhao’s movement paused slightly as he suddenly sensed that something was wrong.
Qin Shu might not have fallen asleep.
He might have been poisoned.
His clothes… were not something just anyone could casually wear.
Pei Zhao sighed soundlessly and opened his thermos. Staring at Qin Shu’s nearly unconscious sleeping face, he hesitated briefly before reaching out, pinching his cheeks open, and carefully feeding him several mouthfuls of specially prepared hot water.
“Mm…”
When the bell signaling the end of class rang, Qin Shu finally woke up.
He had slept extremely comfortably—as comfortably as though he had died once. It felt as if he had never experienced such comfort in his entire life, even deeper than the nap he had taken in the hospital chair last night.
The accumulated exhaustion and muscular injuries in his body seemed to have completely vanished. He was bursting with vitality and almost immediately wanted to rush outside, play basketball, run several laps, or do something else that required physical effort.
More importantly, he currently held a cool hand in his palm. It felt particularly pleasant, and the more he touched it, the more addictive it became.
…Wait.
Qin Shu abruptly sat upright and turned his head, immediately spotting Pei Zhao beside him.
His good deskmate seemed lost in thought. One hand had been left for Qin Shu to hug as a pillow, while the other casually propped up his chin. His gaze rested somewhere in the empty space of the noisy classroom, leaving Qin Shu with only his cold yet beautiful profile.
“Zhaozhao, being too softhearted makes it very easy for other people to take advantage of you. Do you understand?” Qin Shu said with profound anguish.
Pei Zhao froze, then turned his face in confusion, having no idea what he meant. “…Mm?”
Honestly, he was both absentminded and easy to bully. Qin Shu hesitated, wanting to say more, but ultimately only squeezed his fingers. “Never mind. In any case, you’re not allowed to hold hands with other people casually.”
“Oh.” Pei Zhao still did not understand and responded perfunctorily before handing him the thermos. “Drink some more of this.”
“Are you worried about me?”
Pei Zhao gently nodded and looked at Qin Shu with exceptional seriousness. Dim daylight spilled in through the window and reflected within his golden-amber pupils, refracting into an extraordinarily clear and brilliant color.
“Qin Shu, you need to drink more hot water today.”
His tone was equally serious. It sounded unbearably adorable.
“Good Zhaozhao, let me hug you…”
No longer satisfied with holding just one hand, Qin Shu lifted Pei Zhao without allowing him to object and pulled him entirely into his arms.
Pei Zhao had long since grown accustomed to Qin Shu’s sudden fits of eccentricity. Light as a feather, he sat on Qin Shu’s lap and smoothly found a comfortable position before picking up his test paper and focusing on the longer problems.
“You’re really too light.” Like a sheet of paper, he barely seemed to weigh anything. It felt as though a single breeze might carry him away, making Qin Shu constantly want to hold him tighter.
Pei Zhao had never complained about being unable to breathe. He would only dislike how warm Qin Shu was. For example, right now, Qin Shu spoke softly beside his ear, warm breath brushing across the pale side of his neck and coloring a small patch of skin a beautiful light pink.
Despite it being the middle of winter, there was an oddly stifling heat between them. It felt strange.
Ordinarily, Pei Zhao would probably have said so directly and refused to tolerate such a prolonged embrace. But today, he had accidentally poisoned the other person… He was in the wrong, so he would endure it.
He endured it for half the class. Under the terrifying authority of “Voldemort,” the students barely dared whisper to one another, so no one noticed the commotion occurring in the final row.
Only Teacher Fu sat beside the lectern, answering students’ questions while repeatedly glancing toward the two youngsters with a peculiar expression. He looked and looked, wanting to speak but stopping himself.
He had only just told Pei Zhao to keep an eye on Qin Shu and be a little more understanding toward him… Did he really need to be this understanding?
Were young people nowadays all like this?
When evening self-study ended, Qin Shu received a fierce, quietly spoken warning from Old Fu: “Don’t bully your deskmate.”
Completely baffled, Qin Shu agreed, picked up his backpack, and accompanied Pei Zhao all the way to the entrance of the dormitory. Afterward, he went to the school gate to collect a package, then took advantage of the quiet night and energetically returned through the darkness to the empty classroom building.
Perhaps catching up on sleep had filled him with energy. In any case, Qin Shu was now in excellent condition, and even his state of mind was fairly good.
Failing to save Teacher He from the class next door had not actually left him particularly upset.
At the time, he had instinctively rushed forward to resuscitate him only out of a basic respect for life. But honestly… Qin Shu privately supported repaying an eye for an eye.
Having a lawyer for a mother had exposed him to even more intolerable forms of “injustice,” quietly pushing his views on revenge toward the extreme.
It was people who drove other people into becoming ghosts. Since that was the case, ghosts also had the right to make people pay the painful price they deserved.
The only condition was that they could not harm anyone unrelated to them. The moment there was any possibility of innocent people being dragged into the matter, Qin Shu would act without hesitation.
For example, the hanged ghost lingering outside the teachers’ office carried far too much baleful energy. The windowsill was piled high with an almost viscous layer of sinister black mist. Over time, it might cause the teachers’ health to deteriorate.
Qin Shu had deliberately searched online and also confirmed it with Daoist Priest Xu. If physically weak people absorbed too much baleful yin energy, they might lose part of their souls, suffer nightmares or persistent high fevers, or even experience reproductive damage and be tormented by nightmares for years. That was bad. Very bad.
That was why he had mentioned it to Old Fu while at the hospital. Since he had promised to deal with it today, he could not delay it until tomorrow.
Tap, tap, tap…
The sound of Qin Shu’s solitary footsteps echoed through the empty corridor. The motion-activated lights illuminated one after another, warm yellow light falling through his hair and outlining his calm, focused profile.
The number of carrion-eating eagle-bodied little ghosts had abruptly decreased. The young boy who caught ants was nowhere to be found today. Only the teachers’ office on the senior-year floor seemed like territory marked by an evil presence, a layer of chilling ghostly darkness visible around it from afar.
The hanged ghost made no attempt to conceal itself. It hung quietly before the office’s main entrance, its long black hair resembling vast sheets of soft, dense seaweed that silently swayed in the sinister wind, carrying a faint scent of rust.
A snow-white long dress, lace-up casual shoes, and a simply designed silver bracelet around its wrist. This had been a fashionable combination five or six years ago, capable of making an already tall and slender person appear even more delicate and clean-cut.
No. 2 High School was not particularly strict about clothing. As long as students wore the school jacket, they could wear whatever they liked underneath. But seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds at a prestigious high school were generally at the most unfashionable stage of their lives. Even students who enjoyed dressing up usually would not deliberately stand out on campus.
“Miss, were you a teacher, or are you related to someone who works here?”
Qin Shu moved closer and tilted his head, studying the direction of its toes and palms. He was actively expressing goodwill while also trying to determine, beneath the thick curtain of dense hair… which side was the hanged ghost’s front.
Creak—creak—
The moment he finished greeting it, Qin Shu heard a grating friction that made his teeth ache. The hanged ghost in the white dress slowly rotated its body until its toes faced Qin Shu.
Of course, its head did not move. Only its body turned. The distinction between front and back apparently did not matter.
As its body rotated, its face and slender neck, previously hidden within its black hair, finally came into view. Beneath the glaring purplish-red ligature mark was mangled flesh and skin torn apart by the rope. Its elongated tongue hung lifelessly from the corner of its mouth—a thoroughly classic appearance.
There was also a single bloodshot eye, glaring venomously at Qin Shu through the gaps in its hair.
A fierce chill immediately swept across the side of Qin Shu’s neck, racing from his earlobe down his entire arm. The cold briefly robbed half his body of all sensation, followed immediately by stabbing pain.
It felt as though a pair of frozen lips had pressed close to his ear, as though an invisible person were lying across his shoulder and whispering mournfully, calling again and again in a voice that seemed to weep blood:
“Little sister… give her to me… Give my little sister back to me…”
Futile Devices Scans 
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