By now, night had fallen. The campus outside was shrouded in darkness. Across the courtyard, the windows of the opposite classroom building were pitch black. A gust of wind caused some curtains to flutter in the open windows—someone must’ve forgotten to close them.

Li Jinjiang booted up the computer. The startup chime echoed through the quiet classroom.

“Um… can I not watch?” he asked awkwardly, rubbing his hands together. “It’s too scary. Makes me feel sick.”

“Sure,” Lin Jue replied without giving him a hard time. She walked to the podium and opened the video file from the USB. The footage soon began projecting onto the screen in front of them.

Zhou Jiayu glanced repeatedly at Lin Zhushui, wondering if he should describe the video to him, but Lin Zhushui, as if sensing his thoughts, said calmly, “No need to mind me.”

So Zhou Jiayu turned his attention back to the screen.

The video showed a classroom during self-study. The teacher sat at the front grading papers while students quietly worked at their desks. Everything looked normal—until halfway through the video, when Zhou Jiayu noticed something strange. “Look, that fan seems to be moving…”

Shen Yiqiong followed his gaze and saw that one ceiling fan, above a particular seat, was indeed swaying—forward and backward, forward and backward—almost like something was sitting on it, slowly rocking. This kind of motion was clearly unnatural, as the other fans were still. Ceiling fans rotate when operating—they don’t swing like swings.

Yet no one in the classroom seemed to notice.

The swaying grew stronger, and the creaking louder. Finally, it drew the attention of the students. But by the time they looked up and located the source of the sound, it was too late.

With a loud crash, the fan plummeted straight down and struck the head of the student sitting below.

Her head was split almost in half on impact—pink brain tissue visibly exposed. There was no doubt she died instantly.

Screams filled the classroom. Students ran in all directions. The teacher, frozen in shock, eventually screamed as well and stumbled out of the room in a panic.

The classroom was left with just the fallen fan and the lifeless body of the victim lying still in the empty silence.

Honestly speaking, by this point, Zhou Jiayu was starting to understand how Li Jinjiang must have felt—watching this kind of footage in the classroom where the incident had taken place really was a bit too much.

The screen went dark, but goosebumps had already risen on Zhou Jiayu’s arm. He swallowed hard, just about to say something, when he saw Lin Jue, expressionless as ever, click the video again, intending to watch it a second time.

Zhou Jiayu: “…”

Shen Yiqiong, looking rather distressed, said to Zhou Jiayu, “Have you noticed? Girls in our line of work all have ridiculous guts.”

Zhou Jiayu replied, “…I’ve noticed.”

Back during the competition, Tan Yingxue had already been the bravest among them. Now, meeting Lin Jue, Zhou Jiayu once again felt how timid he was in comparison.

Lin Zhushui had been silent all this time, but just as Lin Jue was about to play the video again, he suddenly said, “Skip to around the six-minute mark.”

Lin Jue nodded and moved the mouse, dragging the progress bar forward.

At around six minutes, the ceiling fan was shaking the most violently—but hadn’t yet fallen.

Lin Zhushui said, “Stop there.”

Lin Jue hit pause. “You see something?”

Lin Zhushui nodded.

At first, they didn’t understand what exactly Lin Zhushui meant by “something,” until Shen Yiqiong suddenly had a flash of insight and said, “Hey, look outside the window—isn’t there someone sitting on the other building?” He stood in front of the computer screen and pointed to a specific spot.

Zhou Jiayu followed the direction of Shen Yiqiong’s finger and saw that through the window, there appeared to be a pale, white figure hanging from the windowsill. Lin Jue didn’t speak. She rewound the footage a little, confirming that the figure hadn’t been there earlier—it only appeared once the video reached the six-minute mark.

As soon as the figure appeared, the fan began shaking violently. There was clearly some connection between the two.

“That’s the thing?” Lin Jue said. “But it’s just some dirty entity—how could it have so much power?”

The recording wasn’t taken at midnight, just on a normal afternoon. It was a bit gloomy outside, sure, with no sunlight, but that was all…

Zhou Jiayu didn’t know much about these things. He slowly walked to the classroom window and glanced outside. “Come take a look! The lights are on over there!”

“Lights?” Li Jinjiang was the first to walk over and stand next to Zhou Jiayu. Looking out the window, he also saw the light shining from a window in the opposite building. “How can that be? It’s so late—there shouldn’t be anyone at school!”

Zhou Jiayu didn’t say anything—he had already realized that the window now glowing with light was the same one where the shadowy figure had been sitting in the footage…

That window was smaller than the classroom ones—it looked like an office window, with a few potted plants on the sill. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss, but on closer inspection, shadows were flickering across the adjacent white wall—almost like there were lots of people moving around inside the room.

“Should we go check it out?” Lin Jue stood beside Zhou Jiayu, frowning at the window.

Lin Zhushui said, “We can go.”

Li Jinjiang looked downright miserable—he couldn’t even force a smile. “Do… do we really have to go now? Maybe we can check it out during the day…”

“During the day?” Lin Jue said. “It’s not so easy to find these dirty things during the day. If you really want this resolved quickly, we have to go at night.”

Li Jinjiang said, “I get it, but…”

Lin Jue cut him off: “Then how about this—you stay here by yourself, and we’ll go check it out and come back?” It was clearly meant to provoke him, and sure enough, the moment she said it, Li Jinjiang caved.

“No no no, don’t leave me here alone. I’ll come with you guys.”

Lin Jue smiled. “Alright then.”

To be fair, no one could blame Li Jinjiang. Even Zhou Jiayu and Shen Yiqiong were creeped out after seeing that footage—especially when the shadows inside the office window seemed to be multiplying. You could count over a dozen just from what was cast on the wall.

They were just about to head over to the building, already at the classroom door, when Shen Yiqiong glanced back at the window. He immediately shuddered all over and cursed out loud.

Zhou Jiayu wisely didn’t look back. “What did you see?”

Shen Yiqiong’s face had gone pale. “Damn… I saw a pair of hands reach out and close the window—”

Zhou Jiayu: “…”

Lin Jue, on the other hand, calmly examined the scene. “It really did close. The lights are off, too.” She smiled faintly. “What, are they scared we’re coming?”

Zhou Jiayu truly admired Lin Jue’s composure. It was unreal.

The group continued walking toward the other building. While going down the stairs, Shen Yiqiong quietly told Zhou Jiayu that actually, cursing was useful when encountering spirits—and that he knew of a secret technique.

“A secret technique?” Zhou Jiayu asked.

“Yeah! I’m telling you, when you’re super scared, just think of something dirty or perverted—it makes you feel way better.”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” He was speechless.

Lin Jue overheard and let out a chuckle.

Shen Yiqiong looked wronged. “Why are you laughing, Master? It’s true!”

Lin Jue nodded. “It is. In ancient folklore, there were many stories of people cursing spirits and driving them off.”

Zhou Jiayu had thought Shen Yiqiong was joking, but seeing Lin Jue confirm it left him stunned.

“But it only works on ghosts with a consciousness,” Lin Jue sighed softly. “If it’s already killed someone… it won’t do much.” Her gaze lingered momentarily on Lin Zhushui’s expressionless face. “Still, thinking of dirty jokes isn’t the worst idea.”

Lin Zhushui seemed to notice her gaze and slightly raised his brows.

Lin Jue chuckled.

Zhou Jiayu and Shen Yiqiong were completely baffled by this subtle exchange.

The building they were headed to was right next to theirs. Li Jinjiang, the most familiar with the campus, looked absolutely terrified the entire way.

“Fourth floor, right?” At the base of the building, Lin Jue looked up.

“Yes,” Li Jinjiang replied softly. “Should be… 4-13.”

“4-13?” Lin Jue paused to think. “Now that we’re here, you should probably tell us what happened in that office.”

Li Jinjiang fell into an obvious silence. He hesitated a long time before finally speaking in a halting voice: “That office… a teacher died there.”

“A teacher?” Zhou Jiayu asked. “When did that happen?”

“A long time ago…” Li Jinjiang wiped his face heavily with a hand that was either cold from the weather or stiff from fear. “Before I started working at the school, actually. I don’t know the details—just that a teacher jumped out of the office window. Died on the spot.”

“You’ve been here five or six years, right?” Lin Jue mused. “Then this really happened a while ago. If something was going to linger, it would’ve started back then. So why have there been so many incidents just in the past year?”

Lin Zhushui said flatly, “Let’s go up and take a look.”

Lin Jue nodded and led the way inside.

This building was newer, more modern, and equipped with air conditioning. According to Li Jinjiang, though, students still preferred the “Top Scholar Building”—supposedly, the feng shui there was good and helped with grades.

They soon arrived at the fourth-floor office Li Jinjiang mentioned. The door was tightly shut, and from the sliver of light underneath, it was clear the lights inside had been turned off.

Zhou Jiayu noticed a smell—something familiar, though he couldn’t place it right away.

“No one’s inside?” Lin Jue asked. “Do you have the key? We should take a look.”

Li Jinjiang quickly shook his head. “No key. That’s a teacher’s office—it’s still in use. I can’t just go in like that.”

“Really?” Lin Jue reached out and gave the door a push, then lowered her head to examine the lock closely. “Grade-A cruciform lock. Give me five minutes.” As she spoke, she naturally pulled a small hairpin from her pocket and bent over the lock at the door.

Li Jinjiang stared at her movements, eyes wide. “Miss Lin, th-this isn’t appropriate, is it?”

Lin Jue replied casually, “What’s inappropriate about it?” She turned to Li Jinjiang with a gentle smile. “Or would you prefer to come back here with us tomorrow night?”

Li Jinjiang instantly fell silent.

Zhou Jiayu watched Lin Jue’s practiced movements and thought, Why are you so familiar with this…?

Click. With a soft sound, the door cracked open. Lin Jue pocketed her tool and pushed the door wide. “Shall we?”

Zhou Jiayu and Shen Yiqiong looked at each other hesitantly but didn’t move. Li Jinjiang was even worse—Zhou Jiayu half-suspected he wanted to crawl inside his down jacket and disappear.

Lin Zhushui, standing behind them, said nothing and was the first to step inside. Zhou Jiayu quickly followed.

They turned on the lights and saw the full layout of the office.

It was a large office space for about seven or eight people—very spacious, with each desk spaced far apart. Most desks were covered with teaching materials and supplies.

“This is the science department office,” Li Jinjiang spoke weakly, fear having drained most of his energy. “Good lighting, plenty of space. Before the incident, everyone wanted to be here. But after what happened…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Zhou Jiayu could easily imagine: because of the sudden death, the office had become a place people avoided.

Lin Jue quickly inspected the entire office and then, based on the location, found the window that had appeared lit from the opposite building.

The window was closed, thick curtains drawn. It looked like the teachers had shut everything properly before leaving for the day. Lin Jue examined it and found the latch was still securely fastened. She said, “Interesting.”

Zhou Jiayu stood beside her as she undid the latch and forcefully pushed the window open.

As soon as it opened, a blast of wind swept in, bringing with it scattered snowflakes.

Lin Jue’s hair whipped around in the wind. She stood at the window and leaned her head out.

Just then, Lin Zhushui suddenly spoke up: “Careful—something’s there!”

Lin Jue was about to ask what, but her expression froze. She had looked down—and there, at the base of the building, lay a shattered corpse sprawled on the concrete, blood pooled all around it. Just then, the thing slowly raised its twisted head and locked eyes with her.

Lin Jue: “…Yiqiong, come here. I’ve got a treasure to show you.”

Shen Yiqiong: “…” Like hell I’m falling for that!

He and Zhou Jiayu instinctively took a step back in sync. Lin Jue, seeing their reactions, looked aggrieved and said, “You don’t believe me? This really is a rare spectacle. It’s fascinating.” As she spoke, the thing below had begun to rise, staggering awkwardly as it headed toward the teaching building.

Zhou Jiayu and Shen Yiqiong both waved their hands furiously. “Nope, nope, no thanks.”

Click. Lin Jue clicked her tongue in disappointment.

---

Author’s Note:

Zhou Jiayu: A little scared…

Lin Zhushui: Remember what Lin Jue said?

Zhou Jiayu: You mean the dirty jokes thing? Wait—wait a minute, sir, what are you doing—

Lin Zhushui: Helping you think of dirty jokes.