Chapter 65: Yucai Middle School
“The system never said that NPCs in replicas automatically become vengeful ghosts after death,” Lian Qinglin muttered, still a little shaken at the thought that the ghost he’d crushed underfoot might have been Xiang Min. He tried to reassure himself and the team: “Maybe she just died and stayed dead. No ghost, no problem.”
Li Zhi glanced toward the administrative building.
In the darkness, the distant structure loomed like a dormant beast—silent, unmoving.
She didn’t dwell on it. “Let’s reset the desks first.”
Everyone got to work, moving the scattered desks back into place. As they worked, Pink Hair suddenly cried out: “How did Zhou Jianzhang’s score jump to fifty-nine?!”
He had just moved Zhou’s desk when he noticed the name tag in the corner—earlier marked at thirty-nine, now inexplicably changed to fifty-nine.
Passing meant reaching sixty. In school terms, sixty was passing—and Zhou was just one point away.
The group paused, quickly checking everyone else’s scores. All of Zhou’s team had reached over fifty points already.
White Hair scratched his head: “They must’ve played the mirror game in the dorms tonight. Makes sense they gained points.”
Before Lian could scold him, Pink Hair knocked him lightly on the head: “The mirror game has time restrictions—you can only play after midnight! It’s not even twelve yet!”
“They’re playing ahead of schedule,” Li Zhi said, her tone unusually serious. “They already completed three horror games today. If they finish the mirror game right at midnight, they’ll clear the replica tomorrow.”
So earlier, Zhou had lied—to mislead them.
Xu Yiran panicked: “Then let’s hurry back to the dorm and play the mirror game too! We’re already at forty points. The first two games gave full marks—maybe we can get full again and clear this thing fast!”
Li Zhi shook her head. “Too late.”
Her original plan had been to summon Xiang Min’s spirit through the Four-Corner Game tonight. If they could learn the school’s secrets from her, especially what lay inside the principal’s office, they could prepare and storm it later with higher chances of success.
The entity controlling Zhou and his group came from the principal’s office—it must be there in its true form. Destroy the core, and Zhou’s team would fall apart. Then, returning to the dorm for the mirror game would ensure safe clearance.
But the first step failed—Xiang Min hadn’t appeared. Without her testimony, they couldn’t risk charging into the office blindly.
If they went back to the dorm now, even if they cleared the game, they wouldn’t have resolved Xiang Min’s case or uncovered the school’s truth. That wouldn’t count as real success to Li Zhi—and she might lose the MVP bonus.
Worse still, Zhou’s group had already set up the mirror game in the dormitory. The moment the clock struck twelve, they could start and win.
Meanwhile, Li Zhi’s team would arrive late—time-wise, already behind. With less than twenty minutes left until midnight, the gap was too narrow to close.
Most importantly…
“Do you really think they’ll clear the replica once they complete four games and hit sixty points?”
Her calm words silenced everyone.
Tan Manyu’s voice dropped low: “They’re possessed. They’re not alive anymore. Even if they finish the mission, they won’t leave. Because they’re already… dead.”
Xu Yiran paled. “What will they do when they realize finishing doesn’t mean escape?”
Li Zhi answered flatly: “They’ll come for us. And try to kill us.” Her voice remained steady despite the growing fear in their eyes. “That’s why we can’t go back to the dorm. If they finish early and realize they haven’t cleared the game, they’ll hunt us down. Trapped in the dormitory, we’ll be sitting ducks.”
If they were just people, she could handle it.
But these eight players weren’t human anymore. If last night’s events were any indication—if those things crawled out of Bei Xuan’s mouth—then swarms of insects might pour from their bodies, flooding the halls with no escape.
Li Zhi made a quick decision: “We’re leaving. We’re not going back to the dorm tonight. We need to hide.”
They finished resetting the desks, turned off the lights, and hurried out of the classroom.
The midnight campus was eerily silent.
Stepping outside, the cold wind sent shivers down their spines. Seeing Li Zhi head in the opposite direction of the dormitory, the others followed closely.
Pink Hair whispered nervously: “Boss, where are we hiding?”
The school wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small either. Beyond the standard buildings, there were barely any places to truly hide. Zhou’s team had all night to search every corner and eliminate them.
Just imagining it made his heart race.
Yet Li Zhi walked forward without hesitation, her steps firm. Seeing her confidence, the others calmed slightly and kept pace behind her.
On the live chat:
【I know where Li Zhi is going!!!】
【Me too!!】
【Hahahaha, let’s see who hasn’t figured it out yet!】
【Looks like they’ll really be sleeping together tonight—must make Xiao Li very happy~】
【Nope, Xiao Li isn’t happy at all—he’s stuck with way too many third wheels!】
...
Ten minutes later, Li Zhi knocked on the door next to the clinic.
A few days ago, she had checked this area thoroughly. A row of single-story staff housing sat beside the clinic—Li Jianxi’s room was right next to the clinic. She had only peeked from the window then, noting clear signs of life inside.
As she knocked, everyone held their breath.
Lights flickered behind the curtain. Someone had turned on the lamp. Footsteps approached, and with a soft click, the blue steel door opened. Dim light spilled out as Li Jianxi stood there, hair slightly disheveled, wearing casual clothes and slippers—looking confused and sleepy.
“Teacher Li.” Li Zhi blinked, giving him her best pitiful look. “We’re being hunted.”
Li Jianxi: "…………"
Lian Qinglin nearly shouted.
It’s HIM! That guy whose face alone kills my confidence!
Damn it! Why does he always show up?!
Ugh! I’m getting outshined again!
This NPC’s everywhere! The system must love recycling him!
No one cared about Lian’s internal crisis. Li Jianxi stepped aside: “Come in.”
Though stunned that the NPC would help, no one wasted time questioning it. They rushed into the small dorm room. Though modest, it was clean and organized—a thousand times better than the septic tank-level hiding spots they’d imagined.
Li Jianxi closed the door and double-checked the curtains, ensuring no gaps before turning back.
The dorm had only one room, divided by a sky-blue curtain—living space in front, bedroom behind. The group awkwardly settled on the couch, stunned at how easily things had gone.
They had expected some story-driven interrogation, some scripted dialogue—but instead, Li Jianxi didn’t ask a word. Instead, he pulled out several thick blankets from under the bed, ready to arrange floor beds like a considerate hostess.
Was this really an NPC?
Or was he secretly a player plant?
They spread the makeshift beds along the wall behind the curtain, separated from the living area by fabric. Instant security boost.
The wall clock ticked past midnight.
Li Jianxi frowned toward the dormitory building and turned back to them: “You sleep inside. I’ll take the sofa.”
Meaning—the couch.
Seven people could barely fit between the bed and floor mats.
No one hesitated. After thanking him, they slipped behind the curtain, ignoring gender norms in favor of survival. Once they settled, Li Jianxi turned off the lights.
Darkness used to feel dangerous.
Now, it felt safe.
The darker, the better. Zhou Jianzhang wouldn’t find them here.