Bus No. 14 slid into the stop, its front and rear doors yawning like twin mouths; Nana Toki said nothing, tugging Xiaoxiao Ji down into the damp air.

Off. The doors slammed like iron lids.

Her motions flowed like water; the crisis she’d pictured never rose, and the station sat there, breathing quiet like a sleeping pond.

“Has the rain stopped?”

Nana tipped her chin at the placard; rust freckled the metal, paint peeled like old scabs; after a long stare, she teased out Longvine Station.

“Are we there?”

The Soul Carriage had already drifted away; Lu Ming followed, curiosity pricking, and though the storm had quit, the sky hung like bruised slate.

“Online said Longvine Academy’s a venerable elite school. Why’s it all wasteland?” He lifted his new phone; its beam sliced the murk. “Not a living soul—feels like the Soul Carriage dropped us wrong.”

“Place’s right. This is Longvine Station. Longvine Academy’s probably nearby, buried off this track.”

Without a ripple, Nana pressed a yellow Talisman to Xiaoxiao’s back, like pinning a leaf to silk. Her sweep had tasted neglect—an old stop abandoned, earth bald, no road carved.

No campus in sight, only mud and wind; if the Soul Carriage dared stop here, then they stood in the lord’s domain of Longvine’s ghost campus.

She called the System in her mind; a map bloomed like frost. They took the rutted mud track at a crawl; time pooled heavy and slow.

After thirty long minutes, scattered low buildings rose like crouching dogs at the edge of their sight.

“Is this Longvine Academy?”

At the road’s dying end, Nana found a metal sign half-buried in clay, a bone showing through earth.

Lu Ming stepped up and heaved it upright; the letters blurred, paint ghosting away, yet Longvine Academy still haunted the metal.

It was worlds from the glossy photos online; what principal trades six days and seven nights with a campus this shabby?

“Do we go in?” He turned, offering the choice to Nana—the coldest nerves, the heaviest say.

Nana studied from outside; the whole view fit in one breath. A five-story dorm was the lone tree; the rest squatted tight against wind.

The teaching block was patched and peeling; the dirt field pocked like dried moons. The Soul Carriage’s passengers called it a ghost school, yet it looked starved by bad business.

“Sister Ling Jiang, over there… someone…” Xiaoxiao hid behind Nana; fear first, her voice quivered like a cracked reed, sharp enough to sting.

Nana and Lu Ming—one human, one ghost—followed her finger. No shadow stirred; the campus sat like a held breath.

“Maybe you mis-saw. Who’d be in there?” Lu Ming, wary, sent his mind forward like mist probing corners, and found nothing.

“There’s really someone! I’m not lying.” Xiaoxiao had gone chalk-pale. “He’s peeking behind that classroom, wearing a red uniform.”

Red uniform. Lu Ming’s gut dropped—could that be a Red Robed Wraith? His thin intent was a candle in wind; if it sensed a mortal, it would cut like a blade.

They couldn’t loiter; the place felt like a mouth. They had to leave.

His plan to scout evaporated like steam. Who knew a dead campus held a Red Robed Wraith? He’d barely stood against Li Kexin; with a civilian, it was suicide.

Grit lodged under Nana’s heart; filth here likely wasn’t alone. She’d never crossed blades with that tier; she couldn’t promise a clean kill.

Last time she ground Li Kexin into dirt, the woman was already broken. Against a peak Red Robed Wraith? Unclear.

And with Xiaoxiao’s combat power below zero, you don’t step in without iron certainty.

Decision set like stone, a bush nearby whispered—something closing. Nana moved to strike first, storm coiled in her palm.

Before her fingers could find a pocket charm, a hard beam knifed out from the brush.

“Who’s there?” Out stepped a tall, spare young man, black frames glinting like twin coins; spooked, his voice pitched high, then eased at their clothes.

“You’re here for the exchange, right? At this hour, why aren’t you in the dorm? Sneaking to the old campus for a date?”

“Didn’t teachers tell you at noon this area’s off-limits? Why so hardheaded?”

He sounded like a Longvine teacher, tossing “new campus” and “old campus” like chalk dust. Lu Ming’s curiosity rose, then dimmed at Nana’s darkening gaze.

“Sir, you’ve got us wrong. We missed the morning bus. We just got dropped off. We don’t know the old campus rules.”

“You rode a bus from morning till night?” The teacher stared, patience peeling like paint. “It’s nearly eleven. Bus service ended four hours ago.”

“How exactly did you ride here? Do students think teachers are fools?”

“Nearly eleven?!” Shock hit Lu Ming like cold water. He yanked out his phone; the digits glowed near midnight.

They’d boarded around six. Where had the hours bled away?

He flicked a glance at Nana, found the same blank fog in her eyes. A chill climbed from his soles to his skull.

It was the Soul Carriage—something was wrong inside.

“Okay, drop the acting,” the teacher sighed, wind flattening grass. “I was a student too; I get your tricks.”

“You wanted to show off to your girlfriend in a spooky spot, right? That routine’s dated. Do something that actually matters.”

Lu Ming said nothing; the air felt heavy.

“Sir, listen—our relationship isn’t like that. There’s a misunderstanding.” He stepped up, earnest, voice steady as a plank.

The teacher didn’t bite; he shot a “we’re both men, I get it” look, then waved them toward Longvine Academy’s new campus like herding strays.

You don’t know squat. This girl’s already caught a female ghost’s eye; don’t push a law-abiding guy into the firepit.

What else to say. Yes, this teacher was a rare specimen. Lu Ming felt tired to the bone.

On the path back, he tried small talk. “Uh… classmate Ji.”

“What is it, classmate Lu?”

“Aren’t you going to clear things up with the teacher about us? Misunderstandings stick like burrs.”

“Why explain?” Xiaoxiao tilted her head, a sparrow watching rain. “If explaining just makes them doubt more, why waste breath?”

“The innocent stay clear. I don’t like you, anyway. As long as Sister Ghost doesn’t misunderstand, there’s nothing to explain, right, Sister Ghost?”

Lu Ming swallowed the night air and shut up.