Chapter 66: Yucai High School
Calling it "sleeping" was generous—no one could actually rest.
The mere thought of Zhou Jianzhang and his group scouring the campus for them made everyone hold their breath. Would they find this place? Could a flimsy door and window really stop them? Even through the glass and curtains, if they pressed their faces against the windows, would they still see seven terrified figures trembling inside? After all, the pursuers weren’t human anymore.
The pink-haired player couldn’t help but whisper to Xu Yiran beside him, "Stop shaking, you’re making the bed move."
Xu Yiran: "...Sorry, I’ll try to stay still."
"It’s going to be fine. Just go to sleep," Li Zhi said softly, her voice soothing. "Close your eyes and count. Don’t think about anything else."
Everyone took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and forced their eyes shut.
It would be fine. This was the staff dormitory—they wouldn’t find them here.
Time ticked by, second by second. In the oppressive darkness, the ticking of the wall clock grew deafening.
Tick—
Tick—
Like a lullaby, drowsiness crept over the group. Breathing in the tiny dormitory gradually steadied. No one knew how much time had passed when a chaotic flurry of footsteps crossed the flowerbed outside the infirmary and headed straight for them.
Li Jianxi, lying on the sofa, opened his eyes.
But he didn’t move. Still lying down, he listened as the footsteps grew louder, closer, until they stopped at the far end of the row of bungalows. A moment of silence followed, then the sound of skittering—like countless tiny legs crawling—seeped in through the cracks under the door, searching room by room.
Outside the screen, Zhou Jianzhang’s livestream was still live. The audience watched in horror as he and his group swept from the dormitory building to the teaching building, then from the teaching building to the staff quarters. Their faces wore twisted smiles, but their eyes burned with malice. Though they still wore human shells, they were clearly no longer human.
The viewers already knew Li Zhi’s group had hidden in the staff dormitory. Seeing Zhou Jianzhang close in, their hearts clenched in anxiety:
[Who else feels this?! Zhou Jianzhang right now is scarier than any ghost in this instance!]
[Who would’ve thought the biggest threat in this instance would come from the players themselves?]
[Midnight chase scene—so intense!! I love it!]
[Zhou Jianzhang: Li Zhi, are you hiding well? Once you’re good and tucked in, I’ll start looking for you~]
[AAAAHHH the above commenter is unhinged!! If I were Li Zhi, I’d be suffocating right now!]
[How could Li Zhi suffocate?! Underestimating her guts and skills!! I bet a pack of spicy sticks—Zhou Jianzhang’s getting KO’d by her!]
[She might not even need to lift a finger—Li Jianxi could take them down himself. This is a school, after all. Zhou Jianzhang may be arrogant, but he still has to follow the campus rules, right?]
...
Room by room, the search progressed swiftly. Soon, Zhou Jianzhang stood before the infirmary door.
He was no longer human—he just hadn’t realized it yet. His hearing and sense of smell had become unnaturally sharp. The infirmary was empty, but next door, he could hear eight distinct breaths.
Under the pale moonlight, a grotesque smile spread across Zhou Jianzhang’s face. He gestured, and the eight figures slithered toward the dormitory next door. He and Bei Xuan led the way, pressing their faces against the window.
The room inside was pitch-black, and even with the thick curtains and the divider, they shouldn’t have been able to see a thing.
Yet after a moment, both of them grinned.
They saw them.
Seven huddled prey, hiding behind the curtain.
Their mouths opened, and swarms of black insects poured out like a tide, crawling toward the gap beneath the door.
Then—click—the door creaked open from the inside.
The stern-faced school nurse stood in the doorway, her cold gaze fixed on them. "What are you doing?"
The eight froze. The insects vanished instantly.
Li Jianxi’s expression was unreadable. "This is staff housing. Who gave you permission to barge in here?" His icy eyes swept over the intruders, heavy with disapproval. "Which class are you from? Who’s your homeroom teacher?"
The eight stumbled back, fear flashing across their faces.
Li Jianxi snapped, "Sneaking around campus in the middle of the night? Stay right there—I’m calling your teachers!"
With that, he turned and headed back inside, as if truly about to make the call.
Zhou Jianzhang’s throat emitted a distorted sound. "S-Sorry, teacher. We’ll go back to sleep right now."
Only then did Li Jianxi glance back, his expression icy. "If I catch you breaking the rules again, I’ll report all of you."
A flicker of resentment crossed Bei Xuan’s eyes, but fear of the teacher’s authority—and the campus rules—held her back. Through the half-open door, she could clearly see the red heat signatures hiding behind the curtain.
But she didn’t dare enter. This teacher was terrifying. They couldn’t afford to break the rules, let alone get caught doing so. The consequences would be dire.
The eight turned and left, forced to retreat.
Li Jianxi remained in the doorway, watching them disappear before finally shutting the door and returning to the sofa. The seven inside had long since woken, but they’d held their breath, making no sound. Only now, as the danger passed, did they exhale in relief.
"Teacher Li," Li Zhi’s gentle voice cut through the darkness. "Thank you."
Li Jianxi closed his eyes. "Go back to sleep. It’s over."
And it was—though their hearts still raced, exhaustion soon claimed them once more.
The next morning, the familiar wake-up alarm jolted everyone awake. Groggy, they sat up in bed, slowly regaining their senses. The memory of last night’s close call hit Lian Qinglin like a bucket of ice water. "Damn it!! How the hell did they find us?! I thought we were done for!"
Li Zhi rubbed her eyes. "They did find us. We just got lucky—Teacher Li chased them off."
Tan Manyu slipped on her shoes. "If those things inside them really are bugs, some insects can detect heat signatures. No matter how well we hid, they could’ve seen us through the walls."
A chill ran down their spines.
After packing up, they stepped out—only to find Li Jianxi already gone. Li Zhi yawned as she walked to the infirmary, where she found him already in his white coat, holding a black mug as he waited for the water to boil. Strands of hair fell over his forehead, hinting at the exhaustion of an early morning.
Li Zhi lingered in the doorway, unable to suppress a small laugh.
Even NPCs in this instance couldn’t escape the curse of 8 AM shifts.
Li Jianxi’s distant gaze snapped back into focus. His posture straightened instinctively as he turned to see Li Zhi watching him, a smile tugging at her lips. He hesitated, then asked, "Want some water?"
Li Zhi stepped inside. "Sure."
Li Jianxi pulled a disposable cup from the cabinet beneath the water dispenser, poured her a cup of warm water once it boiled, and handed it to her before filling his own mug. Li Zhi noticed a few tea leaves floating at the bottom of his cup and asked, "You like tea, Teacher Li?"
He nodded. "Helps me stay awake."
Standing close, Li Zhi caught the faint aroma of tea. His long, slender fingers wrapped around the mug’s handle, the knuckles slightly red. Sensing her gaze, he tightened his grip unconsciously.
After a moment, Li Zhi burst out laughing. "Teacher Li." She teased, "Isn’t it hot?"
Realizing his mistake, Li Jianxi strode to his desk and set the scalding cup down. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, rubbing the back of his hand where the heat had reddened his skin.
The sun hadn’t yet risen above the clouds, painting only the horizon in gold. The two stood side by side in front of the infirmary as Li Zhi finished her water and spoke softly, "We’ll be leaving soon, Teacher Li."
Today, she would deal with the remaining threats. By midnight at the latest, once they finished the Dormitory Mirror Game, they’d clear the instance.
Li Jianxi turned his head slightly, watching her in silence.
Li Zhi pulled out the sunflower pendant and dangled it in front of him. "Did you use this to find me?"
After a long pause, Li Jianxi slowly nodded.
Li Zhi smiled. "So you’ve been remembering me all along, haven’t you?"
Because he remembered her, he had come looking for her.
Li Jianxi’s gaze drifted toward the rising sun on the horizon. "Yes."
"Back then," Li Zhi squinted into the distance, her voice hazy with morning mist, soft and gentle, "I asked you why you helped me. You didn’t answer. Can you tell me now?"
The pale sky blazed with golden light, the sudden burst of dawn breaking across the horizon. The sunrise in this instance wasn’t any different from the one outside.
It took a while before Li Zhi heard his reply: "I don’t know."
He stared down at his mug, the curled tea leaves unfurling in the boiling water, their dark green leaves sinking to the bottom, floating faintly.
His voice was barely above a whisper. "I saw you turn back toward the shrine to save your teammate, then carry out half of her body." He remembered it all too clearly—the expression on her face, the way her always-smiling eyes had shattered like ice. She had buried her friend, then stumbled away to vomit alone.
Li Jianxi turned to look at her steadily. "In that moment, you suddenly felt familiar."
As if he had seen her somewhere before.
But where? He searched the endless void of his memories, finding no trace of her.
They truly were meeting for the first time.
This inexplicable sense of familiarity had compelled him to reveal the shrine’s secret, to keep noticing her, to keep drawing closer.
It sounded almost like a romantic fantasy—so much so that Li Jianxi felt a little awkward afterward. But Li Zhi didn’t seem to notice. After a moment of thought, she asked, "Do you have any memories outside of this instance?"
Li Jianxi shook his head.
He had been born an NPC, wandering from one instance to the next since the moment he gained consciousness, playing different roles in each. It was his purpose—his default setting. He couldn’t defy it, only help those he wanted to within the rules.
He had helped other players before, but they had only seen him as a kind NPC, no different from any other. Only Li Zhi had looked at him as a real person—with thoughts, feelings, and self-awareness.
When she had asked if they would meet again, Li Jianxi had felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time: expectation.