Chapter 60: Yucai Middle School

The person lying on the examination bed seemed to be asleep. Her wrist rested across her forehead

Li Jianxi watched her for a moment, then quickly looked away.

Just as he thought she had fallen asleep, her voice suddenly broke the silence:

“Teacher Li.”

Her tone was always cheerful—gentle and calm, just like when she first called him “Mr. Li” all those times ago. It was strange—he had met countless people, his memory bottomless, yet that one word from her remained vivid in his mind.

Li Jianxi turned his head slightly. “What is it?”

Li Zhi still had her eyes closed, maintaining the same posture. Her voice carried a hint of post-lunch drowsiness. “Do you know about the girl who jumped from the building in Senior Two, Class One?”

Li Jianxi paused. “She was named Xiang Min.”

Li Zhi’s lips curved slightly—just as expected.

The students avoided talking about Xiang Min’s death, offering no clues. But Li Jianxi was different—he was the school nurse. When the incident happened, he was the first medical responder on site. He must know something.

She removed her wrist from her face and turned toward him. “Was it really a suicide over love?”

Li Jianxi shook his head. “I don’t know. By the time I got there, she was already…” He hesitated, as if recalling the scene unsettled him. His brows furrowed slightly before he finally murmured, “I don’t think so.”

Li Zhi sat up. “Why do you say that?”

Li Jianxi said, “Xiang Min was a scholarship student from a remote mountain village. She worked very hard.”

The clinic didn’t only handle injuries and colds—it also provided some psychological counseling. As a supported student, Xiang Min had been monitored for emotional well-being, so Li Jianxi knew her reasonably well.

“She was very introverted, quiet. At first, she was too shy to speak during counseling—just nodded at questions. Over time, she slowly opened up to me.”

“She said she was the only one from her village to pass high school entrance exams. Because of her academic performance, she was admitted here—tuition waived, and fully supported through three years of high school. She said she was grateful to the school and teachers, and promised to study hard, get into a good university, and come back to give back.”

She might have been shy, might have felt different from others—but she still held onto youthful dreams of the future. She understood how rare this opportunity was. To continue studying, to live and learn in the city—she felt incredibly fortunate compared to her peers back home.

“She said she cherished everything.”

Li Jianxi looked toward the direction of the teaching building.

That was where she had leapt.

Li Zhi nodded. “A girl like that wouldn’t kill herself over unrequited love.” She paused. “Did she show any unusual behavior before her death?”

Li Jianxi thought for a moment, frowning. “She became more silent than usual around that time. Easily startled. Always seemed afraid of something. I asked her several times, but she never said anything.”

Li Zhi asked, “Did she mention someone named Xie Cong? I heard from students in Senior Two, Class One that she fell for him and jumped after being rejected.”

Li Jianxi shook his head. “No.” After a pause, he added slowly, “She mentioned once that the students in her class were kind—helped her clean the blackboard and take out trash on duty days. She really liked Senior Two, Class One.”

Liking Xie Cong and liking your class are two completely different things.

If Xiang Min didn’t die for love, then what drove her to jump?

And why did everyone—her classmates, teachers—insist it was a love suicide?

There was little else Li Jianxi could offer. Li Zhi glanced at the wall clock. Lunch break wasn’t over yet—perfect timing to check the administrative building. She hopped off the bed and waved goodbye. “Thanks, Teacher Li. I’ll go now.”

Li Jianxi: "…………"

He looked at the rumpled bed she’d slept on, then at the curtains he’d drawn shut. Quietly, he nodded.

Li Zhi waved and left, unaware of the subtle reactions she left behind.

【Wait, Li Jianxi, is that disappointment in your eyes? You didn’t really think she came here just to sleep with you, did you?】

【Bro, watch your words! Not 'sleep with'—just borrow his bed to nap!】

【Who knows what Li Jianxi imagined during that time】
【He looks genuinely sad she didn’t stay for lunch break. Makes me cry T_T】

【Li Jianxi: Why does she keep smiling at me? Why ask if she can see me again? Why come to my clinic instead of her dorm? She must like me】
【Li Jianxi, have you even planned your kid’s name already??】

...

As Li Zhi predicted yesterday, the administrative building was unguarded when the principal was away. She slipped inside easily. The entire building felt cold and dim, even more oppressive than the teaching building.

Every office on each floor was locked. She reached the fifth floor—the top level. Except for a small window at either end, the corridor was nearly pitch-black. A strange smell lingered in the air; Li Zhi covered her nose immediately, unwilling to risk inhaling anything toxic.

There were multiple rooms, but only the principal’s office bore a sign. Its aluminum doors were tightly sealed—Li Zhi gave them a gentle push. Not even a creak. Clearly, brute force wouldn’t work.

Looks like she needed to pick up lock-picking skills soon.

If the principal’s office was always this heavily secured, then the only way in would be as a punished student brought in for discipline. But once inside, escape routes would be extremely limited. Without knowing what secrets lay within, she wasn’t sure she could handle it alone. Unless absolutely necessary, she wanted to avoid that path.

Lunch break ended quickly. Students resumed classes.

But because of the upcoming Light-Summoning Ritual, Zhou Jianzhang’s group was visibly excited. Once they completed the games, their scores would reach 60—and they’d clear the replica.

During evening self-study, Tan Manyu noticed them passing notes, likely finalizing plans for the game after school.

Remembering what Li Zhi had said earlier about playing games at night, she felt nervous.

When the bell rang for the end of the third session, Zhou’s group gathered eagerly.

Tan Manyu glanced at them and whispered, “What now?”

Li Zhi smiled. “Wait.”

Tan blinked. “Wait for what?”

Li Zhi replied calmly, “Wait for them to invite us… then we’ll refuse.”

Sure enough, after eight people finished discussing, they didn’t leave immediately.

Zhou approached Li Zhi, polite in both tone and expression: “Li Zhi, we’ve confirmed that playing horror games increases our score. Yesterday we tested it safely. Come with us today. We’re teammates—we should stick together.”

His words sounded friendly, but the implication was sharp.

This put Li Zhi in a difficult position. If she agreed, she’d seem cowardly—using them as test subjects. If she refused, she’d be accused of causing division, damaging her helpful-player image and appearing two-faced.

Before Li Zhi could respond, Bei Xuan chimed in sarcastically: “Teacher Zhou, why bother inviting her? She’s a big player. She has her own way. We risked our lives testing missions last night, and now she benefits without effort.”

“Xiao Xuan,” Zhou said gently, “we’re all teammates. We entered together—we should survive together.”

Then he turned back to Li Zhi, earnestly urging: “Li Zhi, come with us. Finish the games early, get out early.”

At this point, refusing would seem ungrateful.

Too bad Li Zhi had no intention of playing nice.

She leaned forward, smiling sweetly—just like Zhou—yet her words were equally cutting: “Thank you, Teacher Zhou, but I don’t want to play with you. Let’s each do our own thing. Everyone knows the rules anyway.”

“Li Zhi!” Bei Xuan snapped. “Don’t be so unkind! We’re trying to include you!”

Li Zhi looked at her. “How do I know your intentions are good? And not joining you doesn’t hurt you, right?” She scanned the group curiously. “Why are you in such a rush?”

Zhou’s expression shifted slightly. He stopped Bei Xuan from arguing further, saying evenly, “The Light-Summoning Ritual requires a chant. If you don’t join us, you won’t get the chant. Missing one game might mean failing the score requirement.”

Li Zhi widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Can’t you just tell us the chant afterward? Then we can play separately. If you don’t share it just because we don’t play with you… aren’t you intentionally preventing us from clearing? Then why say all those nice things earlier? Seems fake.”

Zhou: "…………"

He hadn’t expected his own logic to trap him. Seeing Li Zhi’s firm refusal, his expression darkened. He signaled his team: “If they don’t appreciate the offer, let’s go.”

Six players from last night, plus two male players who joined them at lunchtime—eight in total—headed for the door.

“Dong Mingcheng. Yu Qian.” Li Zhi called the two males, voice still soft. “We’re going to play too. Join us.”

They exchanged glances, shaking their heads. “No thanks. We already agreed with Teacher Zhou.”

Outside in the hallway, Bei Xuan cheerfully shouted: “Bro Dong, Yu Qian, let’s go!”

Without hesitation, the two hurried out.

“Forget it, Big Sis.” Lian Qinglin muttered. “You can’t reason with fools who choose their own doom.”

Li Zhi simply smiled.