Chapter 17: Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17: The Scholar Who Never Left

The headmaster's study was smaller than Bai Su expected.

She had imagined something grand—towering shelves of ancient texts, silk scrolls unfurled across mahogany desks, the weight of centuries pressing down from carved wooden beams. Instead, she found a cramped room on the ground floor of the administrative building, its walls lined with mismatched bookshelves that bowed under the weight of papers and ledgers. A single oil lamp flickered on the desk, casting long shadows that danced like living things.

Headmaster Zhou sat behind the desk, his fingers steepled, his face unreadable. He was a man who looked like he had been carved from old wood—weathered, patient, and impossible to break.

"Close the door," he said.

Bai Su complied. The latch clicked into place with a sound too final for her liking.

"Sit."

She sat in the chair across from him. The wood was warm, as if someone had been sitting there moments before. She tried not to think about who that someone might have been.

"I received a report," the headmaster said, "that you were found in the bell tower."

"I was investigating."

"Investigating what, exactly?"

She met his gaze. "Chen Feng's death."

The headmaster's expression didn't change. "Chen Feng died of a heart condition. The physician confirmed it. The magistrate signed the death certificate. There is nothing to investigate."

"Then why did you send for me?"

"Because I received another report." He slid a piece of paper across the desk. "From the library."

Bai Su picked it up. The handwriting was delicate, almost feminine, but the message was anything but:

*The student who sees too much will soon see nothing at all.*

She set the paper down carefully, as if it might burn her.

"When did you receive this?"

"Two hours ago. It was tucked into a book on the third floor. A book on funeral rites, coincidentally." The headmaster leaned back. "I thought you should know that someone is watching you, Miss Bai. Someone who may not wish you well."

"Is that concern I hear, Headmaster?"

"It is pragmatism. You are a student at this academy, and I am responsible for your safety. If you die, I will have to fill out paperwork."

Despite everything, Bai Su almost smiled. Almost.

"Who else knows about my ability?" she asked.

"Besides the ghost who told you?" The headmaster's eyes flickered with something she couldn't name. "I would assume everyone who needs to know. And a few who don't."

"That's not reassuring."

"It wasn't meant to be."

She folded the threatening note and slipped it into her sleeve. "I'm keeping this."

"I expected you would."

The headmaster stood, signaling the meeting was over. But Bai Su didn't move.

"One more question," she said. "The bell tower. Who rang the bell?"

The headmaster's hand paused on a scroll. "No one rang the bell, Miss Bai. The bell tower has been locked for three years. Ever since the last student died in it."

"The last student?"

"A boy named Wei Cheng. He was found at the bottom of the tower stairs. Neck broken. The official report said he fell." The headmaster's voice was carefully neutral. "Unofficially, the students say he was pushed."

"By whom?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" The headmaster opened the door. "Good evening, Miss Bai. I suggest you get some rest. Tomorrow's examinations are not something you should face on an empty stomach."

She stepped into the hallway, and the door closed behind her with a soft click.

The corridor was empty. The oil lamps along the walls had been dimmed for the night, casting the passage in shadows that seemed to breathe. Bai Su walked quickly, her footsteps echoing off the stone floors.

She didn't make it ten steps before a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alcove.

"Quiet," a voice whispered. "They're watching."

Bai Su froze. The figure beside her was familiar—the ghost scholar from the library, his face half-illuminated by the distant lamplight.

"You," she breathed. "Where did you go?"

"I had to leave. The headmaster's study is warded. I couldn't get within ten feet of it."

"Warded? Against what?"

"Against me." He released her arm, his expression grim. "The headmaster knows more than he's telling you, Bai Su. He always has."

"How do you know him?"

"He was my teacher. Before I died."

The words hit her like a physical blow. She stared at the ghost scholar, seeing him anew—the fine robes, the scholarly demeanor, the way he carried himself like someone who had once belonged to these halls.

"You were a student here?"

"Forty years ago." He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "I was the top scholar of my year. I was going to sit the imperial examinations. I was going to make my family proud."

"What happened?"

"I found something I wasn't supposed to find." He glanced down the hallway, his eyes tracking something Bai Su couldn't see. "There's a room beneath the academy. A chamber that isn't on any map, that doesn't exist in any record. The headmaster knows about it. So did Chen Feng."

"Chen Feng knew?"

"He died for it." The ghost scholar turned back to her, his gaze intense. "The same way I did. The same way Wei Cheng did. The same way every student who has ever tried to uncover the truth has died."

Bai Su's blood ran cold. "How many?"

"Seven." His voice was barely a whisper. "Seven students in forty years. All of them found in accidents. All of them ruled natural causes. All of them killed by the same hand."

"The ghost. The one who's been taking qi."

"No." He shook his head. "The ghost is a symptom, not the cause. The thing beneath this academy—the thing that's been here since before the academy was built—that's the real danger. The ghost who's been killing students is just its servant. Its tool."

"Then what is it?"

He opened his mouth to answer—

And the lamps went out.

Darkness swallowed the corridor, absolute and suffocating. Bai Su felt the ghost scholar's hand find hers, cold as grave dirt.

"Don't move," he whispered. "Don't breathe. It's here."

She heard nothing. Saw nothing. But she felt something—a presence, vast and ancient, pressing against her consciousness like a hand against a window pane. It was aware of her. It was curious.

And it was hungry.

The moment stretched into eternity. Bai Su's lungs burned with the effort of holding her breath, her heart pounding so loud she was sure it would give her away.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the presence receded.

The lamps flickered back to life.

The ghost scholar was gone.

In his place stood a girl.

She was young—no more than sixteen—with hair the color of midnight and eyes like black stones. She wore the uniform of the academy, but it was stained with something dark and wet. Water dripped from her sleeves, pooling on the stone floor.

"You shouldn't be here," she said. Her voice was soft, almost kind. "This is not your story, Bai Su."

"Who are you?"

"I'm the one who died first." The girl smiled, and water poured from her mouth, cascading down her chin in rivulets. "I'm the one who started all of this. I'm the one who opened the door."

"What door?"

"The one beneath the academy. The one that should never have been opened." The girl's smile widened, and her eyes began to bleed—black ichor that streaked down her cheeks like tears. "I wanted to see what was on the other side. I wanted to understand. But some things aren't meant to be understood. Some doors should stay closed forever."

Bai Su's hand went to the talisman at her belt. "Stay back."

"I'm not here to hurt you." The girl raised her hands, palms open. "I'm here to warn you. The ghost you're hunting—the one who killed Chen Feng—is not your enemy. It's a victim, just like the rest of us. Just like you will be, if you keep digging."

"I don't believe you."

"You should." The girl's form began to waver, becoming translucent, her edges bleeding into the air like ink in water. "Because I was just like you once. Curious. Brave. Certain I could change things." Her voice grew fainter, like an echo fading into nothing. "And now I'm a warning. A story told to frighten children. A footnote in someone else's tragedy."

She dissolved into mist, leaving only a puddle of water on the floor.

Bai Su stood alone in the corridor, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The lamps flickered steadily, casting their warm glow over the stone walls.

She looked down.

The puddle of water had formed words.

*The examination scroll. Look at the blood.*

Bai Su's heart stopped.

She knew those words. They were the same words that had been written on the threatening note. The same handwriting. The same delicate, almost feminine strokes.

The girl had written that note.

But the girl had been dead for decades.

Which meant the threat hadn't come from a living student at all.

It had come from a ghost.

And Bai Su had just been given a clue by the one who had written it.

She turned and ran, her footsteps echoing through the empty corridors, her mind racing faster than her feet.

The examination scroll. The blood.

She had to get to the archive room.

She had to see what was written in Chen Feng's blood.

She rounded the corner and slammed into a solid wall of flesh.

Strong hands caught her before she could fall. She looked up into a familiar face—sharp features, calculating eyes, a smile that didn't reach the gaze.

Wei Ming.

"Miss Bai," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Running rather late, aren't you? The curfew bell rang ten minutes ago."

"I know. I was—"

"Investigating?" He released her, stepping back. "I heard. You've been quite busy since you arrived. Making friends. Asking questions. Poking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Is that a warning?"

"It's an observation." He tilted his head, studying her like a scholar studying a particularly interesting specimen. "The last student who was as curious as you is dead. The one before that is dead. The one before that is also dead. Do you see a pattern, Miss Bai?"

"I see a coincidence."

"There is no such thing as coincidence at Wutong Academy." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "There is only design. And you, Miss Bai, are dancing to a tune you cannot hear."

He walked past her, disappearing into the shadows of the east corridor.

Bai Su stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs.

She had come to Wutong Academy to learn.

She was beginning to realize that the only lesson this place taught was how to die.

And she was determined not to fail that examination.

She turned and continued toward the archive room, the ghost girl's words echoing in her mind:

*The examination scroll. Look at the blood.*

Whatever was written in Chen Feng's blood, she was going to find it.

Even if it killed her.

Especially if it killed her.

Because if she was going to die at this academy, she was going to die knowing the truth.

She was going to die with her eyes wide open.

And she was going to take the secret of Wutong Academy with her into the grave.