"Students inside! Come out now! Fine—I'm warning you. Ten more seconds, and don't blame me for losing face!"

Director Xiao waited outside, but no one emerged. Anger simmered within him.

"Ten! Nine! Eight... Three! Two! One!"

After the drawn-out countdown, only rustling footsteps answered him.

His fury flared hotter. In all his years on the job, which student hadn’t bowed and scraped before him? Defiance like this was rare indeed.

He’d only meant to scold them and assign a written apology. Yet these two refused to back down.

If he didn’t crush this rebellion now, his authority would crumble.

Leaving them without a major demerit? He’d be too ashamed to keep his position.

"Fine. You brought this on yourselves!"

Director Xiao strode forward. He’d avoided entering earlier for two reasons: it was beneath him, and the woods split left and right—he feared chasing shadows while they slipped away.

But decades as director had sharpened his wits.

He’d just heard faint footsteps from the right grove.

Autumn had blessed him: crisp, fallen leaves carpeted the ground. Even the lightest step crackled loudly.

Silently, he slipped past the trees toward the sound.

Behind one thick trunk, half a pair of white sneakers peeked out.

*Got you!*

Director Xiao adjusted his glasses and charged like a madman.

"You two! With me—huh?" He froze. Behind the tree stood only empty shoes.

No owner. Just a decoy.

His brow furrowed. He scanned the area—no trace of anyone.

*Impossible. Where’d they go?*

*A trick? Were the real lovebirds hiding in the other grove?*

His eyes widened. He turned to run—but paused.

Kneeling, he slipped a finger inside the shoe. A slow smirk curled his lips. His glasses flashed with smug triumph, like an elderly Conan.

*Still warm. She stood here moments ago.*

They’d planted the shoes to mislead him while they fled.

He pushed his glasses up, chuckling.

*Clever. But still naive.*

*They thought I was on floor one. They were on floor two.*

*But me?*

*I’m in the stratosphere.*

He halted, methodically searching the grove.

These poplar trees—tall and sturdy—could easily hide two people. He circled each trunk, relentless.

*Irony.* He’d recommended planting these very trees years ago. Now they hindered his duty.

Tree by tree, their hiding spots dwindled.

Then—rapid footsteps near a distant poplar.

Director Xiao whipped his head around. A hand darted from behind the trunk, then vanished.

*Real this time!*

*Daring to taunt me? Foolish!*

"FREEZE!" he roared, sprinting over.

Rustling came from behind the tree—but no one appeared. No matter. The trunk backed against the school’s high wall. Nowhere to run.

Yet when he arrived, his triumphant grin stiffened.

Empty again.

*How?! I saw that hand!*

Footsteps teased from other trees. Each time he rushed over—nothing.

Like whack-a-mole.

*Am I seeing things? Or did they vanish?*

A cold sweat slicked his spine.

*Could... ghosts be playing tricks on me?*

"W-w-wail—why ruin our moment?"

A woman’s weeping echoed from above—broken, hollow, dripping with ghostly reverb.

Director Xiao craned his neck. Only rustling leaves met his eyes.

He swallowed hard. "Show yourselves! No more tricks!"

The wails persisted, sharp and chilling.

His feet, however, obeyed instinct. He retreated to the clearing.

*Plop—*

He froze. A wet squelch underfoot.

Blood?

Before he could react, a thud split the air. A body crashed face-first before him, motionless.

Director Xiao paled. He’d only meant to enforce rules—not cause death.

"Student! Are you alright?!" No response. He fumbled for his phone. *Don’t move injured students. Call 120 first.*

As he dialed, the boy twitched.

"Student?!" Hope flickered—then died in Director Xiao’s widening eyes.

The figure rose jerkily, like a wind-up toy pausing between clicks. Masked and hooded, face hidden, arms dangling. It shuffled forward, zombie-like.

"Why... disturb our private time?" The voice was a low growl.

Director Xiao stumbled back. "A-are you human or ghost?!"

Who could blame him? Falling from the sky, then rising like *this*—

"*Aaahhh!*" A guttural snarl ripped out. The figure lunged.

Director Xiao collapsed, scrambling backward on his elbows. His glasses flew off. He didn’t stop to grab them.

"HELP! GHOSTS!" he shrieked, fleeing the woods.

As his screams faded, the "zombie" peeled off his mask and hood.

Beneath it—Zhou Ruiyang.

He flicked his hair back. The corners of his lips slowly curved up.

"Game over."