Xiang Chen was quiet as his breaths evened out. The two figures watched each other; one gaze cautious while the other seemed curious.

 

“I don’t think you’re going to hurt me.” He finally replied, standing straight to face the other student. 

 

Ye Zhong’s eyebrow arched in response. “Oh?” The shadowy silhouette silently approached Xiang Chen until the two of them stood close, chests almost touching. “Why’s that?” His deep and quiet whisper sounded provocative.

 

Xiang Chen was a little flustered by the sudden closeness, but his eyes never wavered despite having to tilt his chin up a bit to hold that cold gaze. “Because if you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve left me to die at the hands of the other ghosts already.” 

 

The corners of Ye Zhong’s lips tugged into a faint smile. “You sound quite confident.” Despite his dismissive tone, Ye Zhong’s cold aura had lessened by a degree, and the young man had turned away to return to the window, looking outside. “Your friends are waiting for you out there.”

 

The sudden change in topic threw Xiang Chen off a little bit, but he quickly recovered, stepping forth without hesitation to glance out the window. He could make out a crowd of people in front of the school’s entrance. 

 

“You have good friends.” 

 

Ye Zhong sounded almost melancholic. 

 

Xiang Chen glanced at the young man beside him whose handsome features were illuminated under the pale moonlight. “Were you and Wu Liqin friends?”

 

Ye Zhong turned to look at him, a flicker of fleeting emotion passing through his expression before resuming a nonchalant smile. “Not really.” 

 

“But you and Zhou Guowei were related?” 

 

The surrounding temperature seemed to drop by a degree. Xiang Chen’s nerves tingled a little restlessly. 

 

“He was my step-brother. My father and his mother remarried while I was still in elementary school.” 

 

Xiang Chen was surprised by Ye Zhong’s openness. “Oh.” He hadn’t expected Ye Zhong to be so forthright with information. With a slightly awkward clearing of his throat, Xiang Chen resumed his questioning. “Then, it must’ve been awkward for you and your step-brother to like the same girl.” 

 

There was a moment of silence, prompting Xiang Chen to flicker a glance at Ye Zhong. 

 

“I didn’t like her like that.” There seemed a bit of hesitation in his words. 

 

“Because you knew that she liked your step-brother right? And that the both of them were together?” 

 

“...”

 

“It took me awhile to figure it out. The second page of Wu Liqin’s diary. All those names she had scribbled down.” Xiang Chen spoke a little more cautiously while gauging the other man’s reaction. 

 

The air seemed to grow even colder, seeping into Xiang Chen’s skin. Ye Zhong’s silence was like a glass plate on a nail; a single movement threatened to disturb its balance and shatter it. 

 

“Wu Liqin was pregnant, wasn’t she? That’s why Zhou Guowei killed her.” 

 

The silence stretched between them, filling the nooks and crannies of the rundown classroom. It felt heavy upon Xiang Chen’s shoulders. 

 

“You’re smart.” Ye Zhong’s faint smile remained as he faced the other. “Why do you think he killed her as opposed to her committing suicide?”

 

“Because in my dream, Wu Liqin had been excited for the baby. She wouldn’t have killed herself and the baby of the man she loved.” Xiang Chen furrowed his brows. “Plus, in her files, it said she took a leave of absence after her grades started failing and then died after she returned. Her depression was probably due to a conflict with Zhou Guowei about the baby, and her leave of absence must be from either giving birth or getting an abortion. I think most likely the second one because she became even more depressed afterwards. This meant that Zhou Guowei probably didn’t love Wu Liqin as much as she loved him.” 

 

He had racked his brains for awhile, and the pieces seemed to be falling in place now as he spoke his thoughts out loud. “Bai Shen told me that a girl killed herself after making a wish on the steps, which started the curse that killed many people; this girl was probably Wu Liqin. But I think that the ‘thirteen steps’ story existed far longer than Wu Liqin, but the curse was exactly because Zhou Guowei had killed her.” 

 

A faint laughter caused Xiang Chen to stiffen. 

 

“Impressive analytical skills.” Ye Zhong smiled. “What about me? How do I fit in the story?”

 

Xiang Chen sighed. “Your files didn’t have a record of death, so you didn’t die at school. I can only guess that Zhou Guowei had a hand in your death to keep you silent about his relationship with Wu Liqin.” 

 

Ye Zhong’s smile widened, showcasing two rows of white teeth that looked slightly sharper than the average person’s. 

 

Xiang Chen was expecting Ye Zhong to say something, but the other man merely turned back to look out the window. The pale moonlight illuminated his slender profile, but the shadows covered his eyes like a mask so that he couldn’t see what the other was thinking. 

 

“Seen enough?” Those thin lips curled into a slight smirk. 

 

With a flustered cough, Xiang Chen’s eyes moved away; he was embarrassed at how long he’d been staring unknowingly. For some reason, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes away from the handsome profile. Was he still trying to convince himself that this was a ghost in front of him? 

 

The video game developers really knew how to appeal to the masses with such a handsome face. Perhaps, by the time this game came out, this Ye Zhong character would have his own fanbase. 

 

Suddenly, a distinct sound came from the hallway. 

 

Thump...

 

Thump….

It was the fourth floor ghost!

 

Though Xiang Chen hadn’t seen it before, the sounds of its movements were heavy. Like something was dragging itself across the floor…The thought of it sent chills down his spine. 

 

Ye Zhong looked at him, silently holding up a finger to his lips. 

 

The two of them moved away from the light of the windows and were once again pressed together against the corner of the door and wall, just right outside of the door window’s point-of-view. 

 

“Why like this again-” Xiang Chen whispered underneath his breath. 

 

Thump….Thump….

 

Pause. 

 

Thump…. 

 

Xiang Chen was pressed against the corner once more; his silhouette tucked into the arms of Ye Zhong. Now that he was aware that the other was a ghost, he could see the distinct lack of undulation in the broad chest. His body was as still and cold as a statue. No wonder Ye Zhong was unbothered before when they were forced to hold their breaths. The breath in his body had already long ago been expelled. 

 

“It’s gone.” Ye Zhong’s deep voice whispered into Xiang Chen’s ears. 

 

He quickly moved aside, casually rubbing his ear that itched a little. “En, then let’s go.” However, as Xiang Chen turned around to look at Ye Zhong, the latter had completely vanished. 

 

Chills ran down his spine as he realized that he was now completely alone in the dark classroom. 

 

Thump…