Chapter 59: Yucai High School
After last night's split, the six players led by Zhou Jianzhang had clearly formed their own clique. They sat together, whispering excitedly, seemingly uninterested in engaging with the others.
The two male players who had followed Li Zhi hesitated, exchanged glances, then walked over with their trays.
Before they could sit, Bei Xuan sneered, "If you love following the big shot so much, why come crawling back now? Don’t be spineless fence-sitters."
The two froze, awkwardly standing mid-motion.
"Xiao Xuan," Zhou Jianzhang chided gently before smiling at the newcomers. "She’s blunt, but don’t take it to heart. Sit."
Grateful, the two joined them. The group of eight resumed their hushed conversation, and at some point, the newcomers gasped in regret: "Really?!"
Xu Yiran and Pei Pei glanced their way but kept eating.
Lian Qinglin sprawled lazily in his seat. "If you wanna join them, go ahead."
Xu Yiran looked at Li Zhi, calmly sipping porridge beside her, then gritted her teeth. "No! I’m sticking with Li Zhi! All the way!"
The pink-haired guy yelped, "Hey! Watch your wording! ‘All the way’ makes it sound like we’re marching to doom! Following my boss is the path to victory!"
Xu Yiran flushed. "Right, right!"
Li Zhi chuckled, tapping a boiled egg against the table. As she peeled it, she remarked, "Their scores must’ve gone up."
"What?!"
"That’s the only thing that’d excite them that much." She bit into the egg, eyes lighting up. "Double yolk. Lucky me."
Her calm demeanor steadied the group. No one panicked over the rival team’s lead.
As they left the cafeteria, Tan Manyu overheard Xu Yiran whisper to Pei Pei: "Don’t worry. I’ve watched Li Zhi’s streams. She starts slow but always delivers. Trust her!"
Tan Manyu smiled, observing Li Zhi’s relaxed stride ahead.
As an official analyst who’d studied Li Zhi extensively, Tan Manyu could confirm: Li Zhi was the most emotionally and tactically stable player on record.
Other top-ranked players had flashy moments—like Lian Qinglin’s leg-severing stunt, which earned him two million popularity points overnight. But those were just fireworks: dazzling bursts with no lasting stability.
Many high-rankers grew reckless with道具, treating dungeons as spectacles—exactly what the [Ghost] system wanted.
But Li Zhi was different.
From her first dungeon, her goal was clear: Get everyone out alive.
She didn’t chase popularity or glory. Every step was measured, every risk calculated.
If player performances were graphed, others would show jagged peaks and valleys. Li Zhi’s line stayed perfectly flat—at a height others couldn’t reach even at their best.
The only dip? Her first dungeon, watching a teammate—hostess Pei Xu—melt into wax.
Tan Manyu had reviewed the footage: Li Zhi vomiting after burying half a corpse, then placing a flower on the grave.
That moment had erased Tan Manyu’s fear of entering dungeons.
With a teammate like this, even death wouldn’t feel so lonely.
Morning self-study.
Li Zhi strolled past Zhou Jianzhang’s group under Bei Xuan’s glare. Their scores had increased—some by 10, others by 20 points.
No wonder they were gloating.
Bei Xuan huffed when Li Zhi showed no reaction, slamming her book shut.
The English teacher stormed in mid-session, clutching two notebooks. "Li Zhi! Lian Qinglin! Stand up!"
Only they’d skipped copying all vocabulary words (per the teacher’s ambiguous phrasing).
"Why didn’t you complete the task?" the teacher snapped.
Lian Qinglin played mute, letting Li Zhi handle it.
"Teacher, I did," Li Zhi said, wide-eyed. "I copied every mistake 500 times—just like you said: ‘Each wrong word, 500 copies.’"
The teacher’s eye twitched. Her wording could be interpreted that way.
Staring into Li Zhi’s deceptively earnest gaze, the teacher wavered.
Li Zhi pressed on, "I’ll finish the rest in the coming days. Sorry for misunderstanding."
Her flawless remorse left no room for punishment. The teacher dismissed them with a warning.
Tan Manyu passed a note: [Oscar-worthy.]
Li Zhi wrote back: [Just doing my job.]
At break, Lian Qinglin whispered, "Do we actually have to copy the rest?"
Li Zhi spun a pen. "I said ‘coming days.’ By then, we’ll be done with this dungeon."
Lian Qinglin grinned. "Genius."
Afternoon.
Tan Manyu reported: "Zhou’s group is playing the Lantern Spirit game tonight—with Xu Jingsheng’s help."
Li Zhi stacked her textbooks. "We’ll play too."
"What?!"
"Scores depend on completing horror games. Four Corners gave 20 points. To pass, we need at least three games."
From Xu Jingsheng, she’d learned all four rituals:
- Summon the Pen Spirit
- Summon the Lantern Spirit
- Four Corners
- Dormitory Mirror Game
The system’s cruel twist? Play and risk death; skip and fail.
But there was always a solution. Li Zhi had a theory—tonight would confirm it.
For now, she had more pressing matters.
In the infirmary, Li Jianxi watched as Li Zhi settled onto a bed for a nap. Silently, he drew the curtains, shielding her from the harsh afternoon light.