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墨書 Inktalez
As Ziya rushed into the classroom, she happened to see Sun Meng interrogating someone. A smile crept onto her lips as she flicked her unique, silky ponytail and walked over to join the excitement. The boys in her class were animatedly discussing the strange incident that had occurred that morning when someone passed by their desks. They had been joking and laughing while leaning on their desks, but quickly sat up straight, pretending to be model students when Ziya walked by.
Unaware of what her classmates were thinking, Ziya continued forward without a care in the world, even ignoring the smiles directed at her and the small gestures made to catch her attention. She walked on without even bothering to lower her head, leaving some of her classmates feeling embarrassed. One boy scoffed quietly and dubbed her the "Frozen Beauty."
"What are you all talking about?" Ziya feigned ignorance as she placed a hand on Sun Meng's shoulder and asked with a smile.
Before Sun Meng could respond, An Jian, seeing Ziya approach, hurriedly stood up, looking flustered. "I... last night I..."
"Don't be nervous, take your time. No one is rushing you," Sun Meng teased, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"I'm sorry to you all. You have no idea how they tormented me last night. I've said it all; do whatever you want with me now," An Jian mustered his courage and finished in one breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over him after unloading his troubles.
"Hahaha, you're so funny! We should thank you for saving us!" Sun Meng laughed heartily, revealing his big front teeth, which he quickly covered with his hand.
"Alright, class is starting. You've ruined the lady-like image you've been trying to maintain for so long," Ziya remarked as she glanced at the classmates who looked surprised by Sun Meng's loud laughter. She shook her head in disbelief and walked toward her seat.
Zhiqing entered the room and hurried to his seat. An Jian, who had just released some psychological pressure, felt his sensitive nerves tighten again upon seeing the class monitor enter. He quickly glanced away and lowered his head, unable to meet Zhiqing's gaze.
Zhiqing ignored An Jian's state; he had just come from the teacher's office where he reported everything he had witnessed. That was why he rushed into the classroom just as class was about to start.
"Ziya, your classmate is reviewing," Zhiqing said with a serious expression directed at Ziya.
"Where's the teacher?" Ziya asked loudly.
"Don't worry about it; it's because of what happened last night," Zhiqing said, pulling out her textbook without saying more.
The teacher had not yet arrived at the classroom, as they were holding an emergency meeting to address the issues of harm that had occurred, preparing for a thorough search of the Yellow Crane Tower.
With the teacher absent, this class, which was a humanities lesson, was being reviewed by Ziya under Zhiqing's arrangement, focusing on the new material learned yesterday.
The sound of pages turning filled the classroom while outside, the wind was still and everything remained motionless. The teachers organized a team to begin their search of the Yellow Crane Tower.
This search party, formed by the teachers, marched into Pomelo Grove and headed toward the Yellow Crane Tower. The rusty lock creaked open, and a thick layer of dust fell from the doorframe with a slight tremor. Inside was dark and devoid of light, and a pungent mix of odors rushed out unabashedly. Though the teachers claimed to be unafraid, deep down they were all too aware of their own unease. They covered their mouths and continued forward.
Cobwebs blanketed every corner of the floor like the spider cave from a certain movie, draping a pale white veil over everything. Touching it left a sticky sensation on their fingers. The teachers entering the floor maintained an air of solemnity, seemingly unperturbed by the eerie surroundings, but they all knew they were merely human and could not escape the boundless fear rising from within.
The dimly lit floor was thick with cobwebs and dust visible everywhere. The crimson wooden pillars were riddled with termite holes that multiplied compared to those outside. Stepping onto this floor felt like being on the verge of collapse in their imagination. Each person wore a solemn expression and remained silent, mechanically following behind the academic director, who led them with a large flashlight raised high.
"These should be considered ancient architecture; protective measures should have been taken," the academic director lamented as he gazed at the crimson pillars. His deep voice echoed hollowly in the empty space.
"Wow, this building seems to be decades old!" another teacher chimed in, looking around skeptically but unable to see beyond what lay before them.
"What's there to worry about? You all are making it sound so mysterious; it's just dust," a female teacher teased lightly. Just as they spoke and moved deeper into the floor, a noise came from the second floor that sounded eerily like a baby's cry.
"What was that sound?" the female teacher asked with a slight tremor in her voice.
"I didn't hear anything; did you all?" The academic director adjusted his glasses and shook his flashlight as he inquired of his colleagues nearby.
"I heard it. It seems to be coming from upstairs. Why don't we go up and take a look?" said another male teacher, an atheist who scoffed at the idea of a Demon God.
"It's too dark. I'm scared. I'll wait outside for you. You all go ahead," the female teacher said, her face slightly flushed with embarrassment.
"Alright! You can rest outside for a while," the academic director replied, leading the way up the wooden stairs. As they stepped onto the staircase, a series of creaking sounds echoed through the empty space of the floor. At first, the noise was quite unsettling, but out of duty to their students, they pushed aside their fears.
While waiting outside, the female teacher was anxious about those inside the building. She paced back and forth, her eyes fixed on the two seemingly motionless crimson doors.
On ordinary days, teachers could dismiss tales of ghosts and monsters as mere rumors. However, now that they found themselves enveloped in this atmosphere of superstition, they felt a unique sense of unease, their minds racing with hypothetical scenarios of what might happen.
Each creak of the wooden stairs sent shivers down everyone's spine. After finally making it through the eerie staircase, they entered the second-floor space. Although they held flashlights in their hands, the teachers cautiously moved forward step by step, fearful of encountering something terrifying or having something jump out at them. Their hands trembled slightly around the flashlights as their hearts raced, listening intently to the strange sounds beneath their feet and following the beam of light with their eyes.
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