The reward was the same as yesterday: a small, hard, dry bread roll.
Since all the Players had completed the military stance training Mission yesterday and earned permission to have dinner, they wouldn’t be unbearably hungry even if they skipped this morning’s reward.
As soon as the morning run ended, the Recitation Mission for the morning lesson began.
Once again, Hua Huai far outpaced the other Players, finishing the Recitation Mission for three passages in just over an hour.
Her memory seemed especially good. She only had to read the contents of the book a few times to recite them flawlessly.
With some time to spare, Hua Huai walked along the corridor, passing many classrooms.
The students inside were just like the ones she had seen yesterday, reading passages aloud like automatons programmed in advance.
Every classroom was a copy-paste.
They filled every classroom except the one occupied by the Players. The longer she watched them, the more unnerving they became.
It was class time, so the teachers were in their classrooms too.
Then, was the teachers’ office empty?
Hua Huai quickened her pace, passing classroom after classroom before taking the stairs to the Top Floor.
It was extremely quiet up here. Unlike the rooms downstairs, which had large windows, everything was dimly lit.
As she walked along, she spotted a sign on one room’s door that read “Teachers’ Office.”
Found it!
Excited, Hua Huai glanced around like a thief.
Then she quietly opened the door a crack, cautiously widening the gap.
The office was indeed empty.
A landline telephone sat quietly on the desk.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have an advertisement flyer, so she couldn’t try making a call.
But she didn’t leave right away. There was still some time before class ended, and perhaps she could find a useful Clue in the meantime.
Like a loach, she slipped into the office and carefully closed the door behind her.
She went to the desk and examined the documents on it.
They were all trivial matters.
Hua Huai put the documents back where they had been and tried opening the desk drawers.
Perhaps because the students were afraid of their teachers and wouldn’t dare barge into the office to rummage through the drawers, they had been left unlocked.
Hua Huai opened one with ease and found a document inside.
“Student who died by accident: Zhao Ling
Age: 16
Reason for enrollment: internet addiction
Cause of death: Unable to endure life without online games, he lost hope one night and went alone to the school rooftop, attempting to tarnish the school’s reputation by taking his own life.”
After reading the words before her, Hua Huai felt an urge to tear them to pieces.
It made her furious!
Another slanderous lie.
These people could say whatever they pleased, turning black into white and white into black with nothing but their own words.
Anyone who didn’t know the truth would read this and never question its accuracy.
Suppressing the urge to tear it up, Hua Huai turned the page.
“Patient’s name: Zhao Ling
Diagnosis: mild depression
Symptoms: self-harm; traces of wall plaster between the fingers, cracked nails, and bloody, mangled flesh.”
The diagnosis had been made only a few days before the date on the previous document, which meant he had received it after enrolling.
The symptoms happened to match the marks on the walls of the meditation room.
Turning further, she found a letter.
“To Principal Chang Si:
My child is addicted to online games every day. As soon as he gets home from school, he locks himself in his room. I have to call him three or four times just to get him to eat. What kind of child is that? He acts more like some lord and master.
But after I sent him to your school, he seemed so well-behaved whenever he came home for his monthly break. He never touched his phone again, let alone played games.
As soon as I called him to eat, he would come straight to the table and sit down, eating all his food properly without being picky.
It’s just that sometimes he cries and tells me he doesn’t want to go to school.
Your school is a wonderful place that can make children behave. He really doesn’t know how to be grateful.”
It was signed, Yu Shulan.
So Zhao Ling had once told his mother that he didn’t want to go to school, but she hadn’t been willing to listen.
That left him unable to share anything deeper with his mother. In the end, it all piled up inside him, becoming the weight that broke the camel’s back.
As for the final straw, it was probably profound despair.
In the meditation room, he had defended his parents.
But he had been lying. He resented his family; like Hua Huai, he simply refused to admit it.
If he admitted it, would they still be a family?
In Zhao Ling’s Suicide Note, at the final moment when he freed himself from life, he finally poured out his true thoughts.
He had no time left that belonged to him. He wanted one last breath of fresh air.
After reading everything, Hua Huai remained lost in thought for a long time.
Tears welled in her eyes. She felt for Zhao Ling, and for herself.
At the same time, she asked herself, “Does someone really have to have a family like this, with family members like these?”
The landline telephone on the desk showed the time. Class was almost over.
Hua Huai put the documents back where they had been, then left as quietly as she could.
Just as she closed the office door, she saw the outline of a shadow on it.
Hua Huai’s heart skipped a beat. What was that? Class wasn’t over yet. Could it be a ghost?
She quickly turned to look. Thankfully, it wasn’t a ghost.
Xiang Lu looked at her with a strange expression. “What are you doing here?”
Hua Huai brushed past her. “Weren’t you looking for a landline telephone? It’s inside, but class is almost over.”
She went to the stairs, and Xiang Lu followed behind her. “You went in to look for the landline telephone? Why are you helping us?”
Hua Huai kept walking. “If you can complete the Mission, I should be able to leave the Instance too.”
After all, once the school was torn down, the students would naturally be taken home by their parents.
So Hua Huai wasn’t helping Xiang Lu and the others. She was helping herself.
Hearing this, Xiang Lu paused in surprise and stopped walking. “You’re very different from the children I’ve met in Instances before.”
Hua Huai stopped too, the words escaping her before she could think. “How am I different?”
Xiang Lu replied, “As soon as they enter an Instance, they start crying and whining, demanding to go home. All the Players have to put up with them. Otherwise, they’re like ticking time bombs, ready to explode at any moment and take a few random Players with them.”
Uh, Hua Huai had never considered that answer.
“That’s why some veteran players really dislike children in Instances. They won’t take them along from the start, and would rather they self-destruct on the spot than cause trouble for the other Players.”
Her age would put her at a disadvantage physically in Instances. Combined with the stereotypes in the other Players’ minds, her future path through the Game would inevitably be much harder than theirs.
Xiang Lu’s words had given Hua Huai something to think about. She sincerely said, “Thank you for telling me all this.”
She had actually thanked her!
Xiang Lu was dazed for a moment. She had been in game Instances for so long that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard such a polite phrase.
She had thought her heart had grown utterly cold and hard.
But now she realized it could still beat happily when warmed.
Perhaps she should leave the instance world and take a good rest in the real world for a while.
The bell rang, and Hua Huai hurried downstairs, soon disappearing from sight.