Chapter 62

Zhang Cheng spoke incoherently, but Jiang Luo understood what he meant.

When Zhang Cheng looked at Zhang Feng upside-down, the baby ghost was also lowering its head in the same posture, face to face with Zhang Cheng between Zhang Feng's legs.

Jiang Luo knocked Zhang Cheng out without anyone noticing, then looked up urgently: 'Zhang Cheng fainted! Someone come help me take him to the medical room.'

Lu You ran over nimbly, supporting Zhang Cheng as they walked out: 'I'll do it.'

The previously indifferent ghost frowned, walked over, took Zhang Cheng from him, and carried him on his back.

The others were held back by staff. The four of them walked quickly to the medical room. After laying Zhang Cheng on the bed, they took the opportunity to meet with the Overall Director.

The Overall Director shook hands with them politely. Seeing the ghost, he hesitated: 'This one is also...?'

Jiang Luo nodded, showing no intention to elaborate. The Overall Director tactfully stopped asking and pulled up the video of the ghost-seeing game.

The video had three angles. They watched it with full concentration. The rear-angle footage was clearest—a dark shadow flashed past Zhang Feng's feet.

The shadow was genuinely unremarkable, even resembling the shadow of a camera dolly track. The Director played the video at slow speed, watching it back and forth several times, but still couldn't see a baby beneath Zhang Feng's feet.

The Overall Director felt a chill in his heart and couldn't help asking: 'Maybe Zhang Cheng saw it wrong?'

'Director, you'd better hope he didn't see it wrong,' Lu You said seriously. 'Something that can be discovered is far better than something unknown.'

The Overall Director was a heavyset man. Hearing this, he couldn't help wiping the cold sweat from his forehead: 'The Master is right.'

Jiang Luo watched the video, frowning. For some reason, he felt something was off about it, but couldn't pinpoint what.

Ye Xun read through Zhang Feng's file, surprised: 'Among the deceased trainees, someone was from the same company as Zhang Feng?'

'That's right, the trainee whose bed you're staying in—his name is Li Zhen,' the Overall Director said quickly. 'Li Zhen and Zhang Feng came as a duo. After the rating stage, Li Zhen got a B, Zhang Feng got a C. During training, Li Zhen grew closer to two trainees from other companies—Chen Liuzhi and Lin Xiao, the other two who died.'

'The four of them got along well because of Li Zhen, often eating together.'

Ye Xun looked thoughtful: 'No wonder. No wonder Zhang Feng was so hostile toward me, saying I took someone else's spot... But I heard Zhang Feng and Li Zhen had some friction.'

The trainees were in a closed recording studio—most things didn't escape the Program Team's notice. The Overall Director spoke with practiced ease: 'Back and forth it was just small things. Either Zhang Feng felt uncomfortable because his same-company partner Li Zhen was getting more popular while he was doing worse, or Li Zhen stopped wanting to deal with Zhang Feng. No other reasons, really.'

Jiang Luo listened with half his attention, somewhat distracted while watching the video: 'You never suspected Zhang Feng had something to do with the three deceased trainees?'

'We certainly suspected him,' the Overall Director said with a bitter smile. 'But when the trainees died, Zhang Feng was either in the training room or sleeping in the dorm. He had an alibi.'

After speaking, he hesitated: 'Speaking of Zhang Feng, I remember one thing. We suppressed the trainees' deaths and told them it was a withdrawal from the competition. Others didn't question it, but Zhang Feng's face looked terrible. He took the day off, wrapped himself in blankets, and ran a high fever that night... We guessed he was upset because Li Zhen had also left.'

Was he really only uneasy because his same-company partner had silently left the show?

Jiang Luo didn't think it was that simple.

Perhaps when he received the trainee withdrawal notice, Zhang Feng already knew that Li Zhen and the others hadn't withdrawn—they had died.

He was afraid—but was he afraid of Li Zhen and the others' deaths, or afraid of the truth behind their deaths?

Or was he afraid that death would come for him?

Jiang Luo came back to himself, then remembered that besides the three trainees, a behind-the-scenes staff member had also died.

The deceased staff member was a plain-looking woman. She had no plans to debut, no enviable fan base, and very low presence at work. If not for this incident, the Director couldn't even recall her name. She shared nothing in common with the three trainees.

Another muffled thunder outside. The computer network lagged, the image freezing on the moment Zhang Feng lowered his head.

'This weather,' the Director sighed softly, 'is really fickle.'

Jiang Luo's peripheral vision swept the computer screen: 'Yeah, rain comes when it says it will...' His voice slowly trailed off.

Ye Xun asked: 'What's wrong?'

Jiang Luo looked down at the computer: 'Does Zhang Feng... not have a shadow?'

Ye Xun was stunned for a moment, then looked down.

Indoor shadows weren't as obvious as those in outdoor sunlight, but they shouldn't be entirely absent.

Ye Xun examined inch by inch around Zhang Feng, again and again, then nodded: 'He has no shadow.'

Jiang Luo decided on the spot: 'Director, pull up the latest footage of Li Zhen and the others before they died.'

The Director hurried to pull up the footage for them.

The video was the latest recording of Li Zhen and the others before their deaths. Upon careful observation, all three of them also had no shadows.

The Director found it hard to believe—he was, after all, a man living in ordinary society. He watched it back and forth several times before slumping into his chair: 'There really are ghosts...'

'This matter can't be separated from Zhang Feng,' Jiang Luo's mood actually improved with the lead. 'He'll be a breakthrough point.'

After watching the footage, the group took their leave of the Director.

The rain outside was heavy, the sky as dark as six or seven in the evening. But there was at least some light. Jiang Luo walked quickly toward the Trainee Dormitory, thinking of the monster that only appeared in darkness.

The umbrella nearly blew away. By the time he reached the dormitory building, Jiang Luo's shoes were soaked through. He closed his umbrella, water dripping wet, and a human-shaped stain seeped through the outer wall of The First Floor.

As if someone drenched in water had slammed into the wall.

Lu You asked: 'Jiang Luo, what do we do now?'

Jiang Luo composed his expression: 'Zhang Cheng only said one sentence about a ghost being beside him, and his emotional reaction was already that strong. Zhang Feng definitely knows something—he just doesn't want to say it. Let's try approaching it indirectly, find a way to provoke him.'

Without wasting time, the four of them went to Zhang Feng's dorm room.

But Zhang Feng wasn't in the dorm.

Jiang Luo stepped onto the balcony and called the Director. The Director said in disbelief: 'That's impossible, someone from our directing team saw him enter the dorm building. Wait, let me check the surveillance.'

Five minutes later, the Director called back: 'He went into the dorm, grabbed something, then rushed out. We don't know where he went now.'

Jiang Luo pondered.

A voice suddenly sounded on the other end of the line: 'Director, who are you on the phone with?'

The voice was magnetic, carrying a teasing note—it was Qin Fan.

The Director inwardly cursed himself—he'd almost forgotten about this one. He said with a smile: 'Teacher Qin, we were so busy with the sudden incident earlier, we didn't scare you, did we?'

Qin Fan had only asked casually, with no intention of prying into others' privacy. He sat down beside the Director with a smile: 'I've always had a small constitution. Not to mention, I think I really was startled—I was just wondering if there really are ghosts in that hall.'

After speaking, he thought for a moment, then said slowly: 'Even now, my soul is still unsettled.'

The Director was also frightened. Ever since learning there really were ghosts here, his back had been crawling—he always felt something watching him from the shadows. Putting himself in the other's shoes, he asked worriedly: 'Teacher Qin, do you feel unwell anywhere?'

Their conversation reached Jiang Luo's ears. Jiang Luo leaned against the dorm bed, eyes closed, listening quietly.

After chatting with Qin Fan for a bit, the Director walked aside alone and said in a low voice to Jiang Luo: 'Master, Teacher Qin is running a slight fever from the fright. I'm afraid... something dirty has latched onto Teacher Qin. Could you come take a look?'

He added: 'The rain today is too heavy. We've arranged a room for Teacher Qin. If the Master can come, you won't need to go back. There's an empty room next to Teacher Qin's—the setup is better than the Trainee Dormitory.'

Jiang Luo said nothing, waiting patiently.

The Director carefully tested the waters: 'Master, shall I add to your fee?'

Jiang Luo lifted his eyelids, half-smiling: 'Then I'll make a trip.'

Through wind and rain, by the time Jiang Luo reached Qin Fan's door, his clothes were half-soaked. Qin Fan opened the door, looking listless and weak: 'Please come in.'

Jiang Luo walked in without ceremony, his wet shoe soles dirtying the clean floor.

Qin Fan didn't mind, good-naturedly bringing him slippers: 'You're soaked through. Take a shower first?'

Such a big star bustling around—only Jiang Luo could watch him calmly. He changed into the slippers. Wet clothes really were uncomfortable. The refusal he'd meant to give rolled through his mouth once: 'Then I'll trouble you.'

Qin Fan found him a change of clothes. Jiang Luo walked into the bathroom.

Since it wasn't his own place, Jiang Luo kept the hot shower brief—five minutes later, he was washed and changed. The clothes were Qin Fan's size, still bearing a new garment's tag, unworn.

He rolled up his sleeves and walked out, draped in damp, steam-hazed warmth.

Qin Fan poured him a cup of coffee and sat on the sofa waiting for him, looking very approachable: 'I heard from the Director about you, Master,' he held back a laugh, finding the title amusing, 'how do you plan to treat me?'

'Simple,' Jiang Luo didn't touch the coffee, raising an eyebrow at him, 'got any beer?'

Qin Fan brought him iced beer. Jiang Luo took a sip and leaned comfortably into the sofa: 'Teacher Qin, you'll need to give me a white porcelain bowl and a cigarette.'

These were easy things to find, and they were soon placed on the table.

Jiang Luo lit the Spirit Papers and dropped them into the bowl. After the papers burned to ash, he poured clear water in.

The clear water turned murky. Jiang Luo lit the cigarette and took a slow drag, his damp hair still dripping. He glanced sideways at Qin Fan, apologetic: 'Teacher Qin, sorry—I don't have sandalwood incense, so I can only use a cigarette as a substitute.'

As he spoke, he tapped the ash into the bowl. Before Qin Fan could react, he stirred the water with the cigarette.

'Drink this bowl, and Teacher Qin will be fine,' Jiang Luo set the soaked cigarette aside and smiled, 'no nightmares at night, you'll sleep just as soundly.'

Qin Fan looked at the bowl of water, his expression complicated: 'Do I really have to drink it like this?'

Jiang Luo said: 'Didn't you say you were frightened?'

Qin Fan sighed, lowered his head, and drank the talisman water.

Jiang Luo watched him intently. Qin Fan's Adam's apple bobbed—he actually finished it in one go.

The talisman water inside was not a calming talisman, but a Suppressive Talisman—one of the finest Spirit Papers Jiang Luo had ever written.

A bowl of Suppressive Talisman like this was far more effective than one applied externally. If Qin Fan was the evil ghost's Puppet, this bowl would sever the ghost's control. If he was a person possessed by an evil ghost, it would be even worse—the ghost drinking the Suppressive Talisman would at least suffer grave injury.

But Qin Fan only set the bowl down with a bitter face, caught between laughter and tears as he said to Jiang Luo: 'This taste is really strange.'

Without any change at all, he said very naturally: 'But then again, maybe it's psychological—I really do feel much more relaxed, and a bit sleepy.'

Jiang Luo saw nothing. Could Qin Fan not be Chi You?

He sighed almost imperceptibly, stood up, and said: 'Teacher Qin should rest. After a nap, everything will be fine.'

Qin Fan really couldn't stand the strange taste and rushed to the Toilet to rinse his mouth, saying as he walked: 'Alright, you should go back and rest too. Sorry for the trouble today.'

The door closed.

In the Toilet, Qin Fan raised his face from the sink. His features damp, his gentle appearance revealed an incongruous, sinister sensuality.

A few seconds later, a line of bright red blood slid from the corner of his mouth.

He wiped away the fresh blood, smearing red across his lip corner. Blood-stained lips slowly curved into a strange smile.

*

Jiang Luo returned to his own room.

The entire afternoon, the rain outside grew heavier and heavier. Zhang Feng still hadn't returned to the dorm.

Jiang Luo slept for a while. After waking, he went to the Toilet. His room had the same layout as Qin Fan's next door—both bathrooms had a tempting large bathtub.

He'd showered too quickly at Qin Fan's place that morning and hadn't enjoyed it properly. He ran hot water into the bathtub.

The dark-haired young man removed his clothes, revealing a graceful, beautiful back, shoulder blades like butterflies in flight. Jiang Luo's hands rested at the edge of his pants, about to remove them, when he suddenly lifted his eyelids and looked to the side.

A small window in the bathroom faced the night. Rain drew long streaks down the glass. That sense of being watched returned.

Jiang Luo walked over and, expressionless, yanked the curtain shut.

The feeling clung like a shadow—the other party was hidden in some unknown corner. The unknown bred fear and wavering. Jiang Luo finally understood why Chi You had chosen this method as a gambling game.

Because the evil ghost knew perfectly well—when he didn't appear, Jiang Luo would stay on edge, constantly wondering who he was and what he was doing. In the unknown, he would be painted again and again as a powerful, terrifying enemy. The mystery deepened with each speculation. If Chi You was never found, Jiang Luo would remain trapped in this cycle.

At least until now, half of Jiang Luo's mind was occupied with wondering who Chi You was.

Wasn't this exactly what the evil ghost wanted?

Jiang Luo's teeth ground together. He forced himself to calm down and sank into the bathtub.

The water temperature was on the high side, very comfortable.

Half an hour later, Jiang Luo lazily opened his eyes and picked up the Mobile Phone beside him.

There was an unread message on the phone, sent ten minutes ago.

[Tonight's game has begun.]

[My dearest beloved, have you figured out who I am?]

Jiang Luo checked the time—it was only nine in the evening.

Last night, the evil ghost had only come to bother him after midnight. Today, he'd arrived a full three hours early.

Anyone could see the evil ghost's excitement.

He ignored the text. Two minutes later, the evil ghost placed a call.

Jiang Luo likewise didn't press accept, but Mr. Evil Ghost seemed to know what he was thinking—the call connected on its own.

The other party's voice was helpless, as if Jiang Luo rejecting the evil ghost's call was some great offense: 'You acting like this seems a bit perfunctory toward me.'

'If you had eyes or a brain,' Jiang Luo's voice also carried a languid air as he casually splashed the water, 'you'd know it's not a bit, but very.'

The evil ghost said, sounding wronged: 'Aren't I your beloved?'

'By that logic, I'm also your beloved. You secretly loved me for a long time, pursued me for a long time, and even in death you won't let me go—you still have to call from the Underworld,' Jiang Luo said. 'Your love for me is quite unique.'

The evil ghost laughed muffledly, the laughter growing louder and louder, like a madman: 'Don't you like it?'

He expected the dark-haired young man to say he didn't, but from the other end of the phone came the lonely sound of water. The young man seemed to have stood up from the water—the splash cascading from his chest down to his legs, followed by the sound of bare feet on tile.

The rustle of clothing was noisy, but extraordinarily detailed, making one wonder whether the purpose of this call was a death threat, or... using one's ears to secretly watch someone dress in sensuality.

Chi You's previously pleasant mood suddenly became subtly strange.

The feeling was like a fallen leaf drifting into a vast ocean—a small, weak leaf that had no effect on the sea at all. The seabed remained deep, heavy, unfathomable.

But the evil ghost was somewhat distracted.

His fingers occasionally tapped the tabletop absently.

The evil ghost liked interesting things, and waiting for the dark-haired young man to dress was undoubtedly tedious. He should speak up, give a friendly reminder, or impatiently get straight to the point.

But for some reason, the evil ghost didn't speak at this moment.

Finally, the rustling stopped.

The dark-haired young man's voice sounded again.

He laughed lightly: 'No, I like it very much.'