To hear the words “six years old” tumble out of the mouth of a guy with such a cool, mature face was, to put it mildly, a massive shock.
Li Xin struggled to keep his smile steady. He stared at Yu Suheng’s cold face for a moment, ultimately concluding that the man was being dead serious.
He turned his head in disbelief toward the 1.9-meter-tall brute in the pink bunny pajamas beside him. The man, confused by Li Xin’s stare but subconsciously treating him as an NPC due to the earlier interaction with Teacher Rabbit, instinctively replied, “Uh… Lin Zhuanghong, five years old…”
Li Xin: …There are just too many things wrong with that statement. I don’t really want to comment.
Taking a deep breath, Li Xin quickly accepted the reality that he was a kindergarten teacher, and even his smile softened into something grandmotherly.
There were only a few things he needed to register: name, age, and hobbies. Added to the fact that one student was missing and couldn’t speak, the process went even faster. Once registration ended, he handed the form to Teacher Rabbit and, along with the restless students, waited for the assistant’s arrangements.
Watching Teacher Rabbit’s profile as she meticulously checked the form, Li Xin twitched the corner of his mouth. He was certainly having an easy time of it as a homeroom teacher.
Confirming the data was correct, Teacher Rabbit nodded at Li Xin: “Everything is in order, Teacher Li. Today is their first day, so tonight you mainly need to give the new students a simple orientation. They will start classes with the other children tomorrow.”
“Understood.” Li Xin raised an eyebrow. “Is there anything else, Teacher Rabbit?”
Teacher Rabbit glanced at the security camera flashing red in the corner of the classroom, then shook her head at him: “No.” Before leaving, she left a final, faint-voiced remark: “Teacher Li, please teach earnestly. The Dean will grade every class; he does not like teachers who are not serious about their work.”
The Dean? Li Xin watched her for a moment, then, as if sensing something, glanced toward the camera. After a momentary pause, he replied in a sincere tone: “Of course. I will guide the children… to get rid of their bad habits as quickly as possible and return to normal life.”
Having finished her business, Teacher Rabbit left quickly. The atmosphere in the classroom eased up significantly.
Although they weren’t yet sure of Li Xin’s identity, at least he looked like a human—and a quite handsome one at that—so he wasn’t continuously subjecting them to dual visual and mental trauma.
Unsure of the level of danger, they didn’t act rashly, instead waiting to see how Li Xin would react.
Yet, their teacher, who looked completely unreliable no matter how you sliced it, was sitting at the podium, calmly flipping through an atlas, showing no intention of doing anything at all.
The lack of reaction caused some stir among those who were already impatient.
Li Xin noticed the four who had escaped Teacher Rabbit’s clutches were automatically huddling together, exchanging glances. Then, the man behind Lin Zhuanghong, who was as thin as a lamppost, cast a suspicious look at him.
Li Xin remembered his name: Li Feng.
Seeing the guy at the podium, whom he suspected was an NPC, show no reaction, Li Feng carefully leaned toward Yu Suheng: “Hey, brother.”
Li Feng had expected Yu Suheng to ignore him, but unexpectedly, the man actually turned his head to look at Li Feng and let out a casual “Hm.”
This was the first time Li Feng had seen Yu Suheng’s face clearly since entering the classroom. He hissed, his train of thought veering off course: “Damn, brother, are you a celebrity?”
Yu Suheng: “…”
Fortunately, Li Feng only asked out of shock. He quickly moved to the main point: “You’re a player, right? We’ve compared notes; the transfer students’ tasks are all the same. Since there’s no conflict in our missions, why not form an alliance?”
Li Feng wasn’t stupid. Knowing there was some unknown entity standing at the podium, he lowered his voice so much that it was practically just lip-reading.
Unfortunately for him, Li Xin could lip-read perfectly. Li Feng’s words confirmed a portion of his suspicions.
But that brought up another question: Li Feng used the term “player,” which should be the collective name for people from the “City of Wishes.” If they were all players, why was his identity the exact opposite—and potentially hostile—to these five… no, six people?
Recalling Teacher Rabbit’s reaction toward him, Li Xin was fairly certain that as long as he wore this “teacher” skin, the pink monster wouldn’t harm him; it might even help him when possible.
Perhaps it wasn’t just her. The identity of “teacher” might prevent all the school staff from being immediately hostile toward him, but that was likely all the protection it afforded.
Yu Suheng didn’t rush to answer. Instead, he cast a brief glance toward the podium. Their eyes met, and Li Xin suppressed his thoughts, blinking. Just as he was about to curl his lips and react, the other man had already looked away.
Hmm… seems like I’m being suspected.
Li Xin pondered the fleeting expression in Yu Suheng’s eyes and couldn’t help but rub his nose.
Really can’t be careless.
The discussion below hadn’t ended. Li Xin lowered his eyes, looking at the lesson plans for tonight and tomorrow, lost in thought.
His task for tonight was to read the school rules to the transfer students and then take them to the medical room for a check-up.
What he had to do seemed simple—just open his mouth and lead the way—but things were rarely that easy.
Unlike the blatant, naked danger facing the “students,” his own situation was more ambiguous, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
While he was thinking, Li Xin heard the lowered voices below the podium. It was Liu Heng, who sat behind Yu Suheng, speaking. He had been hanging his head since entering, looking unconfident, his voice barely a whisper: “Our mission should just be to survive three days. The first night is the most dangerous. You must stay highly vigilant.”
Survive three days. The mission is clear enough. Li Xin sighed internally. He still didn’t even know what his own objective was.
Seeing that the whispering below the podium had stopped, Li Xin—having gathered enough information—finally reached out and tapped the podium.
The remaining murmurs vanished with his movement. Li Xin scanned the room; except for Yu Suheng, who was propping his head up and looking out the window, everyone else subconsciously avoided his gaze.
“Alright, children,” Li Xin clapped his hands, tossed the two pieces of paper onto the desk, and said: “Since everyone is sufficiently acquainted, please listen carefully to the school rules I am about to read.”
He deliberately slowed his speech, using an overly gentle tone that sounded like it was floating in the air of the cold, dim room:
“I will say this only once. Listen carefully. I suspect you wouldn’t like the punishment for violating the school rules.”
Watching them tense up due to his fabricated threats, Li Xin smiled with satisfaction. He walked down from the podium and spoke softly:
“1. This school helps students cultivate good habits. No student may skip class or be late for any reason. 2. The school clinic is located on the fourth floor. If you need it, please go during the school doctor’s shift. 3. The school cafeteria is on the second floor. Our dishes are rich and varied; for your dietary health, please choose a balanced diet of meat and vegetables, and do not waste food. 4. If you encounter strange events on campus, you may report them to the homeroom teacher. Do not take risks alone. 5. The fifth floor of the school is the Dean’s office and the teaching staff’s office/living area. You may not enter without authorization. 6. After lights out at night, you may not leave your dormitory at will. In special cases, please report to the teacher on duty. 7. There are nine faculty members in total, none of whom wear name tags. If you encounter strange people or things, please report them to the nearest faculty member.”
Having finished, he looked up at the clock behind the classroom, gave them a moment to react, and turned to pull open the classroom door.
“Those are the rules. Next is the entrance health check. Hurry up and head to the infirmary.”
The door was pulled open silently. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway did not turn on. The pitch-black corridor looked as if it were being swallowed by darkness, so deep that staring at it made one feel they were about to be sucked in.
Someone couldn’t help but glance at the person slumping on the chair at the back of the classroom.
The black monster that had killed the student was a source of dread for everyone. It was hard to guard against something that blended perfectly into the darkness. Perhaps they would only realize, at the very moment their throats were slit, that a hidden monster had been behind them all along.
They couldn’t even be sure if that monster had really left through that door; it might still be standing there, waiting to reap the first hunter who stepped into the trap.
Lin Zhuanghong subconsciously clutched his fuzzy rabbit pajamas tighter. A chill crawled from the soles of his feet into the depths of his heart.
No one moved first. Unease swirled equally in everyone’s hearts; some even began to tremble unconsciously, the fear of the imaginary seemingly on the verge of breaking them.
The wide-open door separated life and death so easily. Li Xin watched the different expressions on their faces with interest, feeling that this was a rare, grand drama.
Curving his eyebrows, Li Xin withdrew the hand he had been leaning on the podium. The slight movement was jarring in the almost frozen classroom, instantly attracting everyone’s gaze.
Under their probing eyes, Li Xin stepped forward without hesitation, sending half his body into the darkness.
He deliberately controlled the sound of his footsteps, but the hallway lights still didn’t come on. The deep darkness acted as a clear dividing line, splitting him into two uneven halves.
Within the play of light and shadow, he turned his head slowly, his smiling face appearing ghost-like.
Although it was just a whim, Li Xin’s move was undoubtedly an active signal to those in the room that there was no danger outside.
Unfortunately, this didn’t dispel their doubts. The fact that the hallway lights didn’t come on only disappointed the players who were watching him without blinking.
Having felt nothing unusual, Li Xin leaned against the doorframe. Watching the players who remained motionless, he suddenly understood why his identity could grant him such a significant advantage.
The interaction between Teacher Rabbit and Li Xin had successfully categorized him into the camp of the NPCs in the players’ eyes. This NPC status meant he didn’t have to participate in these dangers personally.
But conversely, he had lost the trust of the other players from the start. Once his identity was fully exposed, he would have no friends left in this entire building.
Without a doubt, this wasn’t a favor—it was a trap, through and through.
“What are you waiting for?” When he realized this, facing their stares, a cryptic smile appeared in the depths of Li Xin’s eyes. He asked, appearing genuinely puzzled, though his eyes, shadowed by his lashes, carried an indefinable pressure.
“There is still an hour before the evening study hall ends. Being late is not what ‘good children’ do.” His gaze swept over each person’s face, and when he stopped on Yu Suheng’s, he tilted his head slightly.
“Who wants to go first? There’s a reward.”
The grey-haired young man’s eyes also held no fear. He noticed the provocative smile of the man by the door, who looked like a seductive ghost. This smile seemed to make him daze for a second, but he quickly returned to his usual cold, sharp demeanor.
When someone was being targeted, Lin Zhuanghong and the others didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried for their companion.
But the fear of death quickly overwhelmed their remaining conscience. No one wanted to be the first bird at such a time; they could only convince themselves that being chosen was just bad luck.
Unlike the complex emotions of the others, Yu Suheng was completely unbothered. He pulled his chair back and stood up. The room’s only light fell on the top of his hair, making it impossible to look away.
Lin Zhuanghong was still trying to say something, but the person beside him had already walked slowly toward Li Xin, meeting his gaze.
His steps were steady, and his posture wasn’t tense. Beyond the initial brief eye contact, he didn’t even look at the man leaning against the doorframe again.
In stark contrast to Yu Suheng’s obvious disregard, Li Xin’s gaze was fixated clearly on him.
As they passed each other, Li Xin noticed that Yu Suheng was just a tiny bit shorter than he was.
With the final step taken, the yellowing hallway light finally flickered on, accompanied by the crisp sound of footsteps.
Lin Zhuanghong and the others couldn’t worry about their fear anymore; they all leaned out to look. However, contrary to what they expected, there was no ambush, no trap, and no “dark shadow”—only a trail of bloodstains on the ground that stretched all the way into the room.
The danger did not exist.
This realization brought a sense of relief, but quickly followed by a delayed sense of embarrassment. An inexplicable anger spread across their faces until they turned flushed.
Yet, the person in the hallway didn’t care about them at all. Those deep blue eyes followed the bloody trail on the floor all the way up, staring straight into the eyes of the man who remained smiling.
“Weren’t we going to the infirmary, Teacher Li?” Yu Suheng said coldly: “I think you should remember the way.”
The slightly sarcastic voice broke Li Xin out of his daze as he had been watching the strands of hair on the other man’s shoulder.
Is this a probe?
Li Xin didn’t know where his performance had leaked to be seen through so quickly. But he wasn’t in a bad mood—in fact, he felt a bit eager to try.
Naturally withdrawing his gaze, Li Xin smiled and stood up to walk toward Yu Suheng, his blood-stained soles leaving bright red footprints.
He stopped in front of the other man, close enough to feel his light breathing. Watching those unblinking pupils, Li Xin replied: “Of course I remember… however…”
After finishing, he paused slightly, then suddenly lowered his head to lean close to the man’s ear, laughing in a nonchalant tone:
“Student Yu Suheng, the first step to becoming a ‘good boy’ is to start by trusting your teacher. How about that?”