Chapter 4

Chapter 4

We fled into the library.

The moment the door slammed shut, the female ghost outside came to a halt. She pressed her face against the glass, her hollow, pitch-black eye sockets fixed on us. Her voice was as faint as falling dust.

“Gu Wenzhou said that if I confess just one more time, he’ll say yes.”

Zhao Mingyuan shrank back against a bookshelf and hissed under his breath, “That guy is a real piece of work.”

The intercom crackled to life immediately: “Insulting an Outstanding Graduate is strictly prohibited.”

A heavy volume of school history flew off the shelf, striking him and leaving him with a streaming nosebleed.

I quickly dragged him away. “Save your breath. Wait until we get out of here alive to start cursing.”

There was a row of old newspapers in the library.

We flipped back to the school papers from ten years ago and finally found the names Lin Xia and Gu Wenzhou.

Gu Wenzhou: Mingde Middle School Outstanding Graduate, early admission to a prestigious university, Student Council President.

Lin Xia: An ordinary student. Her death-falling from a building on the eve of the Graduation Ceremony-was glossed over by the school in a single line of small print.

Tucked beneath the school newspaper was a handwritten note, seemingly left behind in secret by a student.

[Lin Xia did not commit suicide.]

[She was locked in the Bell Tower for seven days, forced to confess to Gu Wenzhou every single day.]

[On the seventh day, after the bell tolled, she vanished.]

A chill ran down my spine.

Zhao Mingyuan asked while clutching his nose, “Who forced her to confess?”

I turned to the next page.

The answer was a group photo.

In the picture, the entire class was gathered in front of the Bell Tower, smiling. Lin Xia stood in the center, her face deathly pale. Gu Wenzhou stood beside her, holding a piece of paper covered in writing.

The caption read:

[Graduation Season Truth or Dare Activity: Helping Introverted Classmates Bravely Express Their Love.]

I couldn’t even bring myself to curse anymore.

Something even more sickening than a ghost is malice packaged as a celebration.

Jiang Xu stood by the window, the wound on his shoulder still bleeding. After searching for a while, I managed to find the library’s first-aid kit.

“Sit down,” I said.

He glanced at me. “Do you know how to dress a wound?”

“No, but I’ve seen short videos of it.”

He sat down silently, his expression showing a hint of uncertainty for the first time.

I unwrapped the gauze, and my technique was disastrous. The first time, I wrapped it the wrong way; the second time, I tied the knot into a dead tangle; the third time, I nearly taped the adhesive to his hair.

Watching from the side, Zhao Mingyuan looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

After enduring it for a while, Jiang Xu finally asked, “Are you sure you’re not trying to seal me away?”

I kept a straight face. “If I can seal you, it just means you have a special constitution.”

Jiang Xu looked down and chuckled.

In that moment, the cold white light of the library fell across his eyelashes. I suddenly remembered how he had stepped in front of me earlier.

It wasn’t some exaggerated ‘hero saving the damsel’ moment.

It was more like he had calculated exactly where the danger would come from and then placed himself in its path.

A System prompt abruptly popped up.

[Warning: Player Shen Zhi’s danger level is rising.]

[31%.]

I let go immediately, and the gauze fell to the floor with a soft thud.

Jiang Xu looked up. “What’s wrong?”

I took a half-step back. “Finish it yourself.”

He glanced at his shoulder. “It’s not easy with one hand.”

“Then let Zhao Mingyuan do it.”

Zhao Mingyuan instantly backed away. “Me? I can’t even tie my shoelaces without getting them in a knot.”

Jiang Xu watched me quietly.

I felt an intense surge of irritation.

It wasn’t because he was hurt.

Absolutely not.

I was just worried that a key teammate taking damage would affect our efficiency in clearing the game.

I crouched back down, picked up the gauze, and muttered, “Shut up. Don’t laugh, don’t look at me, and don’t say thank you.”

Sure enough, Jiang Xu didn’t move a muscle.

But his danger level suddenly spiked.

[Warning: Player Jiang Xu’s danger level is rising.]

[41%.]

My fingers paused.

It wasn’t my imagination.

The System had been warning me all along.

But Jiang Xu’s danger level was rising even faster than mine.