"Creak—"
A door had opened. It was the first stall.
Long Tao clapped a hand over his mouth, not daring to make the slightest sound.
The restroom was small, with only five stalls.
None of them had high partitions. If you stood on tiptoe, you could see into the stall next door.
He was crouched in the fourth stall.
Thump. Thump.
"Creak—"
"Creak—"
The second and third doors were pushed open one after the other.
At last, the eerie sounds stopped outside his stall.
Time stood still.
Long Tao steeled himself to rush out the instant that thing opened the door.
Then the door of the stall beside him suddenly swung open. It was the innermost stall, and its old hinges let out a grating squeal.
That thing had actually given up on the stall he was in.
A few seconds later, the thumping started again.
That thing left the restroom, its eerie drumbeat growing fainter and fainter.
It was gone?
It was gone?!
There were no words to describe the relief of surviving a brush with death.
Long Tao's legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the floor.
Half a minute later, he forced himself to his feet.
It wasn't courage that drove him. He was afraid that thing might come back.
He leaned against the door and listened quietly for a while.
Then he carefully pushed the stall door open.
The restroom was silent and empty.
Long Tao couldn't help feeling a surge of joy. He quickly tiptoed toward the exit.
He walked on his toes, making almost no sound.
Closer.
Closer still.
Just as he was about to step through the restroom door, an absurd yet eerie chill suddenly enveloped him, making him shudder violently.
He had never felt anything like it.
Almost instinctively, he looked behind him.
His neck turned bit by bit, like a rusted screw.
"Whoosh—"
There was nothing behind him. The space was empty.
No one.
And certainly no snarling ghost like the one he had imagined.
But just as he breathed a sigh of relief and turned away, he caught sight of himself in the mirror above the sink.
The next second, it was as if lightning had struck him.
The mirror in the men's restroom was clouded with grime, and one corner had already cracked.
Spiderweb-like fractures covered most of its surface.
It was obviously beyond repair.
But none of that mattered to Long Tao anymore. His pupils suddenly contracted, and the corners of his eyes twitched violently, as if they were about to split open.
Reflected in the mirror, he saw a pair of legs floating above his head!
A breeze blew through the sealed room from nowhere. It was icy and sinister, and the legs swayed gently with it.
"Creak—"
"Creak—"
Trembling, Long Tao mechanically raised his head. Before him was a pair of blood-red, hate-filled eyes.
They were hidden beneath a mass of thick black hair, like a blade that could seize the soul.
Long Tao's mouth fell open, but no sound came out.
His mouth stretched wider and wider, far beyond what any ordinary person could manage. The corners began to tear, and bright red blood sprayed out.
With one final "crack," everything fell silent.
A drop of blood splashed into those eyes, still wide open in death.
Slowly, it spread across them like vermilion ink.
"What's taking him so long?" Zhou Taifu looked back down the corridor and grumbled irritably. "There's been no sign of him at all."
Zhang Yinyin only replied after a moment. "Maybe things are worse than we thought." She paused, then murmured softly, almost to herself, "But it has been a long time."
The word "worse" gave Zhou Taifu a very bad feeling. He stubbed out his cigarette, frowning. In a daze, he felt that the corridor behind them had grown dark and deep.
"How long has he been gone?"
"I don't know." Zhang Yinyin's voice was still as frail as ever. "But it must have been more than ten minutes."
More than ten minutes.
Zhou Taifu's face darkened.
He immediately set off toward the music classroom.
Zhang Yinyin seemed startled by his sudden movement and hurriedly asked, "Mr. Zhou, where are you going?"
"I'm going back to get help." Zhou Taifu didn't even look back. "Stay here and keep watch!"
"I—I don't dare." Zhang Yinyin had realized something was wrong, too, and stuck close behind Zhou Taifu like a little tail.
A strange atmosphere settled over them. They walked faster and faster, one behind the other, until they were practically running.
It was as if whoever fell behind would suffer something terrible.
Rehearsal had just ended, and Jiang Cheng and the others were packing up.
Zhou Taifu was used to a life of comfort, and the short run left him gasping for breath.
In the end, Zhang Yinyin had to explain to everyone what had happened.
"You didn't go check?" Luo Yi asked.
It was a pointless question.
After all, no one had expected a ghost to appear in broad daylight, especially with so many people gathered here.
"Let's not panic," Jiang Cheng said, stepping forward. "We don't know what happened yet."
Even as he said it, Jiang Cheng himself felt that Long Tao was probably in grave danger.
"Do you know where the restroom is?" Yu Wen asked.
"Yes."
Zhou Taifu glanced toward one side of the choir platform and spoke weakly. "Should we bring that woman along?"
He meant the woman who had been coordinating with them.
Zhou Taifu's idea was to send her in first.
If Long Tao was fine, that would be for the best. If something had happened, they could stay outside and avoid any danger themselves.
"Heh." Zhen Jianren, who had said nothing until then, folded his arms and sneered. "I wouldn't. In this world, it's best not to invite unnecessary trouble."
Jiang Cheng, Yu Wen, and Zhen Jianren rarely agreed on anything, but they were of one mind on this matter.
After that, they quietly headed for the door.
They had only taken a few steps when the woman they had been coordinating with hurried out and asked bluntly, "Where's your friend?"
Everyone fell silent at the same time.
The woman's expression slowly changed, and she looked more and more nervous. Fine strands of hair, damp with sweat, clung to her forehead and cheeks. "Did something happen to him?"
At her words, Yu Wen and the others' expressions changed instantly. Just as Yu Wen was about to speak, Jiang Cheng cut in. "No, he wasn't feeling well, so he went back first."
"Oh, oh." The woman's pale cheeks gradually regained their color, as if a weight had been lifted from her heart.
Groups of students filed out. Among them was a girl with round glasses who looked like a student cadre. Her gaze darted around before settling on the woman. "Teacher Feng?"
The woman responded, then explained to Jiang Cheng and the others that she still had work to do and wouldn't see them out.
Jiang Cheng nodded. "Go ahead, then. We'll be on our way."
"When's the next rehearsal?"
The question seemed to catch the woman off guard. She thought for a moment before replying, "The school leaders will decide after they watch the recording."
After leaving, the group headed straight for the restroom where Long Tao had gone.
The farther they walked, the worse their expressions became. Even Zhou Taifu and Zhang Yinyin, who had been there before, sensed that something was wrong.
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