Chapter 37: Shen Ji’s Side Story (Part Two)

Zhao Xiaohu lifted his head and saw, emerging slowly in the darkness, a twisted human figure drawing closer. The searing heat seemed to melt the very air, suffusing everything around with oppressive warmth.

A terrifying rumor flashed through Zhao Xiaohu’s mind: if you encountered a wandering ghost and failed to answer its question, you would die. He tried to back away in fear, but his spine was already pressed against the wall—there was nowhere left to retreat.

A hoarse, dreadful voice came from overhead. “I have a question for you.”

It was here! Just as the rumors foretold—a question!

Zhao Xiaohu shrank into the corner, trembling uncontrollably. He pleaded, “Please… don’t kill me… I haven’t done anything, please don’t kill me…”

Suddenly, a mathematics workbook appeared before his eyes.

A charred hand, flickering with firelight, pointed at a geometry problem. “Solve this.”

Zhao Xiaohu was stunned.

A petite figure stepped out from the darkness. She stormed over, shouting, “Shen Ji, are you making someone do your homework again?”

The twisted figure froze. Before the girl could reach him, he seemed like a child caught in wrongdoing, clutching the workbook and fleeing in panic.

“Stop right there!” the girl called after him.

She wore a white skull-shaped hairpin in her long hair. As she passed the corner, she spared a moment to say to Zhao Xiaohu, “Adventuring isn’t for you. You’d better not come again.”

With those words, she chased after the fleeing ghost. Compared to the ghost who’d been scared off, her ferocity was far more daunting.

Gu Xia’ai hurried over. “Zhao Xiaohu, are you alright?”

Supported by his friend, Zhao Xiaohu was drenched in cold sweat, stammering, “I just saw a ghost—and that girl—”

Strangely, though, he couldn’t recall what the girl looked like at all. Zhao Xiaohu began to cry. “There really are ghosts, Gu Xia’ai! Let’s get out of here, I’m scared!”

Gu Xia’ai glanced up at the stairs. There really was something unexplainably eerie about this place. Seeing how frightened Zhao Xiaohu was, he helped him out of the building, deciding to heed his parents’ advice and keep his curiosity in check from now on.

In the fabled art room on the fourth floor, a young man knelt on the floor, holding his head in his hands, enduring a scolding with aggrieved resignation.

Bai Yao held a tree branch in her hand—the very same branch he had recently broken off a tree for her. Of course, she couldn’t bear to actually hit him, but holding something at least lent her some authority. She lectured him sternly, “This is your homework. How can you ask someone else to do it for you? You’re not just brushing me off—you’re cheating yourself! Shen Ji, you must change your attitude. You’re studying for your own sake! If you don’t learn math and science well, what if one day you go out to kill ten people but only manage five, and someone tricks you into believing you’ve met your quota?”

She spoke as if poor math skills would get him shortchanged at the market.

Shen Ji glanced at her angry face with caution and murmured, “I’m sorry, Yao Yao. I was wrong.”

Bai Yao was still angry. “And you even dared run away when you saw me! I—”

She raised the branch, but before she could bring it down, he was already clutching his head, eyes shut tight in nervous anticipation. He was clearly terrified, but made no attempt to dodge, obediently preparing himself for punishment.

With a soft thud, the branch was tossed heartlessly to the ground.

Suddenly, she was kneading his face with both hands, contorting his features into a comical mess. He opened his eyes, dazed, staring at the girl so close before him.

Bai Yao squatted in front of him, kneading his cheeks as she grumbled, “If you dare run away the next time you see me, I’ll really give you a beating!”

Whenever he overate and had indigestion, or dragged her into mischief at all hours, or deliberately caused trouble when she was bathing, she always threatened to beat him next time. But he had never actually been punished.

Shen Ji’s eyes curved into a smile, his expression one of utter contentment.

She muttered, “What are you smiling at? You look ridiculous.”

Shen Ji nuzzled her cheek. “Yao Yao, I love you so much.”

Bai Yao’s face remained stern, but Shen Ji could feel his heart growing warm and soft. Emboldened, he edged closer, slipping an arm around her waist. “Yao Yao, I’ll catch up on all my homework. But right now, I just want to love you. Is that alright?”

For him, “love” had always been a verb.

Bai Yao wanted to refuse. After all these years, how could he still be so passionate about this? But the thundering heartbeat within her chest swayed her. Every desire Shen Ji felt for her came vividly, powerfully, through that heart—stirring her body in response.

After so many years together, her body had memorized his touch. Because their hearts were connected, each could easily sense the other’s emotions.

Since she said nothing to refuse, it was as good as consent.

Filled with joy, Shen Ji pulled a blanket from the cabinet and spread it on the floor, heedless of the skeleton inside whose bones he snapped in his haste.

Impatiently, he scooped Bai Yao into his arms, gently laying her down on the blanket before lowering himself to kiss her lips.

Bathed in moonlight, the boy’s face looked even more clean and handsome. Noticing her gaze, he smiled radiantly, then continued kissing her, murmuring softly, “Yao Yao, I love you… I love you so much…”

The heart within Bai Yao’s chest kept telling her that every word he spoke was true.

How strange. When she first learned that her heart had been taken, she was terrified. But as time went on, she grew accustomed. One day, waking beside him, she suddenly felt a new heartbeat within her chest.

There was no rejection at all. It was as if his heart had always belonged to her, fitting her body perfectly.

They could feel so clearly how fiercely the other loved.

Moonlight streamed through the glass window, mingling with the brilliant hues of sunset on the walls, banishing the cold and darkness from this narrow space.

This place, rumored by all to be the most haunted and terrifying, was also the site of a ghost and his girl’s romance.

That night, the bright moon hung high in the sky.

In the dormitory, Gu Xia’ai was tending to his frightened roommate. He had just posted on social media about his adventure in the legendary building, when messages from his parents arrived in quick succession.

Dad: [Son! Never agree to watch a movie with anyone casually!]

Mom: [Son! Don’t you dare try any courage-testing games!]

Dad and Mom: [We’re too old—if something happens to you, we don’t have the energy to raise another child!]

Gu Xia’ai: “…”

Were these truly his own parents?