Two people and one ghost trailed the teacher leading the way like shadows following a lantern, and soon they returned to Longvine Academy’s new campus.
Compared to the old campus Nana Toki had glimpsed beyond the woods, the new one felt a full tier more lavish. Fresh, towering buildings stood like spears, and the northern field spread like a green lake, a few rings larger than Xiaoxiao Ji’s own.
Tsk... what a strange school, moonlight varnishing the roofs like cold lacquer.
Unease pricked Nana Toki like a cold pin as she turned back. The old campus, hidden behind the trees, exhaled a heavy omen in the dark like a crouching beast. Ahead, the new campus twinkled with dots of light like fireflies, and teachers strolled the dorm corridors like slow shadows.
“Yo, Teacher Bai, on duty this late?”
As three humans and one ghost stepped through the gate, an old man wearing a guard’s cap blocked them like a post under a streetlamp. “Caught two more mischievous kids trying to explore the old campus, huh?”
“Hey, Uncle Lin, not at all,” Teacher Bai’s tone slid like smoke. “These two got lost in the forest, and I just found them.”
He didn't tell Uncle Lin what had happened with Xiaoxiao Ji at the old campus; his words skimmed the surface like leaves on water. “Uncle Lin, it’s late. Head back and rest. No other students will slip out into this night’s deep pond. We’ve got more staff on patrol than usual.”
While he spoke, Teacher Bai kept stealing glances at Lu Ming like flicked arrows, the hint in his eyes bright as chalk on slate.
Lu Ming: “...” He was clearly misunderstood; who knew being a Soul Carriage meant sitting all day like a parked hearse.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Uncle Lin said, steam from his thermos curling like fog from a kettle. “Take those two in first. I’ll wait here till all the kids are asleep, then go. Don’t try to talk me out of it.”
Uncle Lin seemed used to the night shift; he sipped hot tea like a small hearth and waved them through with a smile. “Go rest. It’s late. You’ve got class tomorrow.”
“Then rest early too, Uncle Lin,” Teacher Bai said, his words falling like quick steps. “I won’t keep you. I still need to escort these two back to their dorm.”
“Go on, go on, go on,” Uncle Lin’s hand fluttered like a moth.
Once they’d gone a ways into the new campus, Lu Ming gathered his nerve like a fist and asked, “Teacher Bai, Uncle Lin looks fifty or sixty, right? Why’s he still on the night shift?”
At that age most folks retire; it felt odd to see him carrying a thermos through midnight like a lone lamp.
“You’re not even a student here, so why dig so much?” Teacher Bai’s eyes cut over like a swipe of a fan. “People have their own business. Don’t pry. Also, you still haven’t told me your name and your girlfriend’s. Which class are you in? I’ll take you straight to your homeroom.”
“...”
“Teacher Bai, one more time: this girl isn’t my girlfriend,” Lu Ming said, his voice flat as damp paper as the campus scenery slid by. He really didn’t want to upset the ghost with the white triangular kerchief; a cold wind felt closer than comfort.
“Alright, alright, whatever you say,” Teacher Bai wore the look of a man who’d seen through him like glass. “So this girl is Xiaoxiao Ji. Then what’s your name?”
“I’m Lu Ming, same Class Three as Ji,” Lu Ming answered, steady as a chalk mark.
“Both from Class Three, huh? I recall Class Three was assigned to the east dorms.”
At the central plaza, Teacher Bai checked his phone; its screen glowed like a little moon. Then he led them toward the dorms, footsteps ticking like metronome beats.
“Teacher Bai? Why are you here?” The Class Three homeroom teacher in the east dorm management office stared for a beat, his surprise hanging like a stalled bell.
“Found these two near the old campus while I was on patrol,” Teacher Bai said, pouring himself plain hot water, steam rising like thin ghosts. “They said they’re yours, so I brought them.”
“Ah... I’m really sorry, Teacher Bai,” Teacher Chen stood in a rush, his bow as stiff as a bamboo rib. “We troubled your staff. My apologies.”
He leaned to see which two had slipped the net, like a fisherman eyeing a torn mesh.
“Xiaoxiao Ji, Lu Ming? You two?” His face tightened like a drum. “You reached campus and didn’t report, and then went to another school’s old campus to mess around? I called your phones all afternoon till my fingers went numb. I thought you’d had an accident and almost called the police!”
“N-no, Teacher Chen, we just got here...” Xiaoxiao started, hope flickering like a timid candle. Lu Ming cut in first, resolve settling like a stone in a pond. “Sorry, Teacher Chen. We actually arrived at noon. I took Xiaoxiao to the old campus on my own idea. We got lost, and Teacher Bai just found us. Sorry for making you worry.”
“I said you took a girl to the old campus, and you denied it,” Teacher Bai said, giving Lu Ming a look like pasted scorn. “A man living in this world should stand up and own it; no playing two faces in front of your teacher and someone else’s.”
“But...”
“Sorry, Teacher Bai. You’re right to scold me.” Lu Ming flicked a hidden glance to Xiaoxiao like a folded fan, telling her to stay quiet. She blinked, confusion clouding like mist, not sure why his tough stance flipped so fast. She saw Nana Toki floating in the corner like a pale kite and held her tongue.
“You two usually look obedient, so why get so rowdy today?” Teacher Chen’s anger eased like thawing frost when he saw their honest remorse. “Forget it. You’re safe, and that’s what matters. Don’t ignore warnings again, and don’t go alone—or in packs—to places that are off-limits.”
“Understood, Teacher Chen!” Lu Ming and Xiaoxiao nodded like chicks pecking grain.
“Alright, head back. You didn’t report this afternoon, so you probably don’t know your dorms.” Teacher Chen pulled two key rings from a small cabinet, the metal chiming like tiny bells, and handed them over. “Lu Ming, Building Three, room 121. Xiaoxiao Ji, Building Three, room 411. Keep it quiet when you go in, don’t wake anyone.”
“Our class has boys and girls in the same building?” Lu Ming turned the key, its teeth catching light like scales, still a bit stunned. This setup felt special, and trouble felt like a moth to a flame.
“No helping it,” Teacher Chen said, his sigh spreading like a fan. “Our school brought many people, and the other school only had so many beds. We have to make do. Luckily, the stair to the third floor has a maglocked gate. After curfew it seals like a clamped shell. The things you’re imagining won’t happen. Ease your mind.”
Teacher Chen was an old hand; he saw Lu Ming’s worry like ink in water. “But at this hour that maglock’s shut. You’ll need a card to go up. Teacher Bai, could you help escort my female student upstairs?”
Only the teachers here had the cards; the request fell like a small stone.
“Sure, that’s easy,” Teacher Bai drained his water, the last warmth slipping like a glow from coals. “Helping students is what teachers should do. Thanks for working this late, Teacher Chen.”
“Not as hard as your staff,” Teacher Chen said, politeness trading places like autumn leaves. “You even patrol places like that old campus at night. You’re the ones working the hardest.”
“No, no, you flatter me,” Teacher Bai said, his smile light as a fan-stroke. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll send these two back now.”
“Mm, sorry to trouble you, Teacher Bai.”
After a round of classic polite back-and-forth like paper cranes trading bows, Teacher Bai led Lu Ming and Xiaoxiao out of the management office. As soon as they stepped into the corridor’s cool air, he slowed to walk beside Lu Ming. “Good one—you swore you weren’t bringing your girlfriend out to play, and you just confessed in front of your own teacher.” His chuckle skittered like dry leaves. “Your playfulness is too heavy. That old campus has been abandoned for ages, a dead school with roots like bones. Even our teachers don’t go near it. You two almost slipped through the gate. Don’t go again. It’s uncanny in there.”
“Come on, we’re in the age of science,” Lu Ming rolled his eyes, the gesture sharp as a pebble. “Uncanny, my foot. Teacher Bai, don’t treat me like a kid. There aren’t any ghosts.”
“Hey, don’t be so sure,” Teacher Bai said, voice low as wind through pines. “Better to believe than dismiss. Keep reverence when it’s due, or one day you’ll meet something and have nowhere to cry. Right, little girl?”
“Ah? Mm! You’re right, Teacher Bai.” Xiaoxiao was still puzzling over Lu Ming’s sudden shift, her thoughts drifting like a lantern on water. The naming caught her off guard, so she nodded in a hurry. “I think there are ghosts in the world.”
“See? Your girlfriend’s awareness is higher than yours. Learn from her.” Teacher Bai’s tease landed like a soft poke.
“Teacher Bai, I told you she’s not my girlfriend. Why won’t you believe me?” Lu Ming almost threw up his hands, exasperation fluttering like a trapped bird. Other teachers love to split couples; this one keeps tying knots.
“If you say she isn’t, then she isn’t,” Teacher Bai shrugged, shoulders rising like a small wave. “Having such a cute girlfriend isn’t shameful. Why hide it?” His eyes squinted with mischief like crescent moons. “Or are you one of those scumbags who won’t go public?”
Lu Ming: “...” His silence fell like a stone into still water.
