The toilet door creaked open. Hao Ren gripped the frame, poking his head out to scan the dorm room.

Sure enough, all three beds were occupied—lumpy quilts rising high under the morning light.

Mujin’s bed had lain untouched for over ten days since her leave request. Yet now, the quilt was spread out and bulging. Someone was definitely under there.

But who?

Had Mujin returned?

Hao Ren clearly remembered only three of them passing curfew last night. Every window and door had been locked tight. Even if Mujin somehow slipped past security, she’d never get through the sealed dorm door.

Baffled, he sucked in a sharp breath and crept toward Mujin’s bed.

His breath hitched when he saw the long-haired head resting on the pillow.

Was this Mujin? Why was her hair so long?

Her hair had been shoulder-length before—impossible to grow this much in half a month.

A girl, then?

His scalp prickled. His hand moved on its own, grasping the quilt’s edge. He peeled it back slowly.

Then—something uncanny happened.

As the quilt lifted, the head on the pillow vanished.

Hao Ren blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Looked again.

Gone!?

He yanked the quilt aside. Empty. Nothing but rumpled sheets.

How?!

He’d seen a long-haired girl lying right there. But when he pulled the covers back—she’d disappeared!

Was he… seeing ghosts?

His heart lurched. He scrambled back into the toilet, gulping the stale air like it was oxygen.

This was too bizarre. He couldn’t bring himself to step back into the dorm.

Hao Ren was terrified of ghosts—and brilliant at scaring himself.

Shivering, he spent the night huddled on the toilet seat.

Only when Hao Ren vanished into the bathroom did Mujin, hidden atop the storage shelf, let out a silent sigh of relief.

At the last second—when the quilt flew open—she’d transformed back into Sparrow. She’d leapt onto the shelf in that split-second gap.

*Sorry, Hao Ren. I know you’re scared… but I can’t reveal myself yet.*

······

6 a.m. The alarm vibrated. Meng Xianyong, the most disciplined of the trio, woke instantly.

Though classes started at eight, he ran every dawn. Afterward, he’d grab breakfast off-campus—and sometimes pick up orders for his roommates via their group chat.

No hesitation. He rolled out of bed, ready for the day.

This ritual came from his idol, Schwarzenegger. The actor once said that in his youth, he never wasted a second hesitating after waking.

Meng Xianyong thought that was cool. So he copied it.

But his brain hadn’t fully booted up yet. Eyes half-closed, he stumbled into the toilet and plopped onto the seat.

Routine bred routine. His bowels moved like clockwork.

Then—a flicker of confusion crossed his face.

The toilet seat was… soft.

*Did someone add a cushion?*

He twisted around.

“What the hell, Hao Ren?! What are you doing?!”

Hao Ren sat slumped on the toilet, mouth agape, dead asleep. He hadn’t even noticed Meng Xianyong landing on him.

Meng Xianyong slapped his cheek. Hao Ren jolted awake, blinking blearily.

“Yo, Brother Yong… morning. You here to take a dump too…?”

“Why are you up so early? You never crawl out of bed before 7:50 on class days.”

“I… huh?” Hao Ren scratched his head. Something felt missing.

He frowned, digging through his foggy memories. Then panic flooded his eyes.

“Brother Yong—there was a ghost last night!”

“What ghost?”

“A female ghost! She took over Mujin’s bed! But when I pulled the quilt back—no one was there!”

“Hallucination,” Meng Xianyong scoffed. A hardcore fitness devotee, he trusted only science.

“No! Look!” Hao Ren bolted out. Back in the dorm, his face paled.

“How… how is this possible?!”

Mujin’s bed wasn’t messy. It was perfectly made—as if untouched all night.

“Are you pranking me?!” Hao Ren whirled on Meng Xianyong. “I uncovered that quilt! Who refolded it?!”

“See? Hallucination. Who’d waste time on such a dumb joke?”

“But—” Hao Ren clutched his head.

*Did I imagine it?*

*Did I fall asleep on the toilet? Was it all a dream?*

*But dreams don’t feel this real…*

Doubt gnawed at him.

“Seriously, Hao Ren,” Meng Xianyong clapped his shoulder. “I get you’re single, but fantasizing about girls this hard? Come lift with me for two days. Clears the head.”

Inside Zhou Ruiyang’s desk drawer, Mujin exhaled in relief.

*Good thing I refolded the quilt after he fell asleep. Almost slipped up.*

*Thank god for the System’s [Emergency Enhancement]. No way I could’ve dragged that heavy quilt as a sparrow.*

Zhou Ruiyang frowned.

*Come to think of it… I dreamed of a long-haired girl on my bed too last night.*

*Just a coincidence?*

From that day on, Room 302 gained a legend—the Vanishing Ghost Girl.

······

8 a.m. The trio entered the classroom together.

“Yo, Zhou Ruiyang’s here! Where’s your campus beauty girlfriend? Too shy to show her off?” A voice called from the front row.

“Dude, Jiang Kai,” his desk-mate Wu Hao teased. “Girls that gorgeous don’t just parade around.”

“True… ugh, I’m so jealous of Zhou Ruiyang!”

Yesterday afternoon, Hao Ren and Meng Xianyong had spread wild rumors: Zhou Ruiyang had scored a stunning brunette girlfriend—prettier than their school’s goddess, Liu Ruyan.

Rumors said they’d even checked into a hotel.

Zhou Ruiyang just smiled and waved it off. “Nonsense.”

At lunch break, the Room 302 trio headed for the canteen.

Mujin fluttered out of Zhou Ruiyang’s shirt pocket, whispering near his ear: “You guys eat. I’ll head back to the dorm for birdseed.”

Zhou Ruiyang blinked. “Not joining us?”

“Nah. Can’t eat human food now. Watching you guys would just torture me.”

“You coming back this afternoon?”

“Depends. Might stay in the dorm. Play on your computer. Catch up on anime.” Even as a sparrow, she could peck at keys—though typing meant hopping wildly between letters.

She circled once, then flew off.

*Perfect. I’ll turn human at noon. Reset the 30-minute cooldown. Maybe squeeze in a few side quests.*

Her latest task flashed in her mind:

**[Feed stray dogs during lunch break. Success: +0.2% progress. Failure: Level 1 Punishment.]**

Impossible as a sparrow—but easy in human form.

She glided past classroom windows. Below, students spilled out for lunch.

“Kai, look—Zhou Ruiyang. If he’s got a campus beauty girlfriend, why’s he still eating with his roommates?”

The gossip drifted up. Mujin dipped lower. The speaker was An Meng—Jiang Kai’s girlfriend. Cute, and practically the “class flower” in their male-dominated CS department.

“You’re an idiot,” Jiang Kai sneered, arm draped over An Meng. “You really think *he* landed a girlfriend? In three years, has he even talked to a single girl?”

“Then why’d his roommates say that?”

“Pranking a loser. Zhou Ruiyang couldn’t find a girlfriend prettier than you if I bet I’d eat three pounds of Wu Hao’s shit!”

Wu Hao: “Eat your *girlfriend’s* shit instead!”

Laughter erupted below. No one noticed the sparrow perched silently on a branch overhead.

*You said it, Jiang Kai.*