Fu Songcheng dragged Li Guoping’s gradually stiffening corpse, step by step, to the edge of the school building’s back courtyard.
The depths of the dense forest were like a gaping maw, having swallowed countless secrets—one more, Li Guoping’s, wouldn’t matter.
“This’ll do.”
Fu Songcheng grabbed Li Guoping’s ankles with both hands and shoved the corpse hard down the slope.
Rumble—
The body tumbled, striking dead branches and loose rocks with dull thuds, finally vanishing into the dark undergrowth.
That done, Fu Songcheng braced himself against an old tree beside him, his whole body trembling uncontrollably: he had killed an NPC.
“Huff… huff…”
He gasped for breath and looked down at himself.
Hands covered in blood, body covered in blood, even his face splattered with bloodstains.
By the time he returned to the temporary dormitory area, the courtyard lights were still on.
Several volunteer teachers were gathered, talking in low voices. When they saw Fu Songcheng appear, all sound cut off instantly.
The air froze.
Fu Songcheng looked like a vengeful ghost just fished out of a blood pool, reeking of gore. When his gaze swept over the crowd, no one dared meet his eyes.
“Teacher Zhang?” Xu Jixing shrank back in fright. “What are you…?”
Fu Songcheng ignored him and walked straight toward the makeshift bathroom.
Conditions on the mountain were poor—the volunteer teachers used two plastic bottles pierced with holes as a makeshift showerhead.
“I’m going to wash up.”
His voice was terrifyingly calm, as if the shocking bloodstains on him were merely mud specks he’d accidentally picked up.
He had just stepped into the bathroom and hadn’t even had time to close the door when Lin Wen hurried after him.
He was holding a towel and a set of clean clothes.
“Teacher Zhang, did something happen to you?”
Lin Wen stepped over the threshold. “Do you need my help?”
Fu Songcheng was twisting the plastic bottle. Hearing this, his movements paused.
Water poured down with a rush, washing the blood off his hands. Red water slid down his wrists.
“Get out.” Fu Songcheng didn’t turn around.
“But…” Lin Wen still wanted to step closer.
Whoosh!
A cold gleam flashed.
The dagger that had just been stained with Li Guoping’s fresh blood was casually flung out from inside the bathroom by Fu Songcheng. It grazed past Lin Wen’s ear and buried itself deep in the doorframe behind him.
The hilt was still quivering, emitting a humming ring.
Lin Wen’s face went instantly deathly pale. He froze in place, forgetting even to breathe.
The blade had been less than two centimeters from his carotid artery.
“I said, get out.”
Fu Songcheng turned around, his wet hands hanging at his sides, his gaze sharp as a blade’s edge. “Take one more step closer, and next time it goes into your throat. Scram.”
Lin Wen swallowed, his legs going weak. He practically scrambled out of the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.
Outside, the other teachers had seen this through the gap, and each one fell silent in terror.
Knowing full well that “Zhang Xinci” was washing up and still barging in—Fu Songcheng wasn’t stupid enough to think Lin Wen was concerned about him.
When Shen Ning had been called away alone, Lin Wen had even stopped Fang Ruiyang from helping. He was no morally upstanding gentleman.
In the bathroom, the water mixed with blood seeped into the earth.
“Zhang Xinci,” Fu Songcheng murmured to his reflection in the mirror, “from now on, anyone who provokes you dies.”
After washing up, Fu Songcheng changed into clean clothes—bought with the points rewarded for killing the mini-boss.
He straightened his spine, swept his gaze over the surrounding frightened yet curious looks, offered no explanation, and walked straight back to his bed.
No one dared disturb him again.
…
The next morning, the village secretary knocked on the dormitory door.
“Teachers, are you all up?”
The village secretary wore his usual smile, looking no different from before. “There’s something I need to inform everyone. Principal Li went to the county on business overnight last night—said there was some urgent matter to handle.”
“For this month, all school affairs, big and small, will temporarily be under my management. If anyone has any difficulties, just come to me directly.”
The teachers exchanged glances.
Last night Zhang Xinci had caused such a huge commotion, and today the village secretary was saying Principal Li had gone on a business trip?
The blood on Zhang Xinci’s body last night… was it connected to Principal Li’s sudden departure?
“Village Secretary,”
One of the bolder male teachers couldn’t help asking, “Principal Li left in an awful hurry, didn’t he? Last night we seemed to hear…”
“Heard what?” The village secretary cut him off with a smile, though his eyes held no warmth. “The wind was strong last night—probably just the sound of the wind blowing the doors and windows. Teacher Li left in a rush, didn’t even have time to say goodbye. Alright, everyone get ready—the first class starts soon.”
Though doubts lingered in everyone’s hearts, seeing the village secretary’s unquestionable attitude, they all tactfully shut their mouths.
“Relieved?”
Fu Songcheng sat in the corner, tidying his books while speaking casually.
Shen Ning, sitting beside him, jumped in fright and whispered, “Scared me to death—I thought the village secretary was coming to hold you accountable.”
“Guess I got lucky.” Fu Songcheng closed the book and said flatly, “The storyline was corrected.”
“Then tell me—is there still a chance he’ll come back later?” Shen Ning couldn’t help asking.
The class bell rang.
Fu Songcheng didn’t answer Shen Ning’s question. He picked up the teaching materials and walked toward the classroom.
The moment he opened the textbook, his movements paused imperceptibly.
In the blank space on the title page, a line of delicate small characters had appeared. The writing was faint but clearly visible in the light:
[Thank you.]
Fu Songcheng’s fingertip lightly brushed over those characters. It was Zhang Xinci’s handwriting—she was thanking him.
…
After class, Fu Songcheng returned to the temporary dormitory and discovered a new problem.
The cloth curtain that had originally separated his and Shen Ning’s beds from the male teachers’ beds had, at some unknown point, developed a large hole.
The hole’s position was tricky—right at eye level.
As long as the people on the other side stretched their heads slightly to peer over, the two girls’ beds inside would be completely exposed.
“Deliberate,” Shen Ning said, hugging her blanket, her face somewhat ugly. “It was fine when I looked during the day. It was like this when I came back at night.”
Fu Songcheng glanced at the hole, then at the several young men opposite.
A few faint snickers drifted over from that side.
In the instance, the greatest crisis for female players was the NPCs’ coveting—so what were the difficulties for male players?
Fu Songcheng had already had vague suspicions. Now, looking at this hole and at the few male volunteers on the other side who increasingly didn’t seem like players, he confirmed his answer.
They were being rapidly assimilated by the instance—at a completely different rate from the erosion he and Shen Ning were experiencing.
He opened his suitcase and took out two paperclips from the miscellaneous compartment.
“What are you doing?” Shen Ning asked.
“Patching the hole.”
Fu Songcheng walked to the curtain. He didn’t look for needle and thread—instead, he straightened the two paperclips and precisely threaded them through the fabric, forcibly pulling the two sides of the hole together and pinning them.
“If it really doesn’t work, come stay at my house?” Shen Ning said hesitantly, looking at the hole Fu Songcheng had pinned shut.
The curtain of civilization and courtesy had already been torn open by desire. Too much patching would only make the situation more absurd.
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