Transtor: der Transtions

  --------

  At the C Building, beside the stairwell at the er of the corridor.

  Two figures, o and ohin, stood there, their eyes fixed on the ground not far away.

  “Doctor,” fatty stammered, as if his tongue had a problem, “this is…”

  About two meters ahead, a severed arm hung limply on the ground.

  From their position, they could still see the twisted muscles and shattered bo the cut.

  “It’s Yu Wen,” Jiang g nodded.

  Fatty couldn’t help but swallow hard. He turned his gaze away, looking at the walls around them, where rge sptters of blood were evident—even on the ceiling.

  Though he hadn’t seen Yu Wen’s body with his owhat was no longer important.

  After turning the er and walking a short distahey would reach the music .

  Fatty peeked his head out, gng into the darkness ahead, and pondered, “So… Yu Wen wao go to the music , but didn’t expect to be killed by a ghost on the way.”

  Jiang g turo observe both sides of the corridor and replied after a moment, “No, she came out of the music and was killed here.”

  Just as fatty furrowed his brows, w how Jiang g arrived at that clusion, a sudden ringing interrupted them.

  The sound of a phing.

  Both of them lowered their heads, realizing the sound was ing from the palm of the severed arm.

  It was a red phone.

  Because it was too close in color to the blood, they hadn’t noticed it immediately.

  Fatty was shtehat his body trembled tinuously; if Jiang g hadn’t been beside him, he might have fainted.

  Jiang g stepped forward, pried open the fihat were tightly clutg the phohen picked it up and held it to his ear, quickly pressing the answer button.

  For a moment, it felt as if the air had solidified.

  Due to the distance, fatty could only hear that the caller was a woman, and her voice sounded quite strange.

  “I’m not…” Jiang g spoke for the first time after listening for a while, “Yu Wen, she…” He g the severed arm on the ground and tinued in a calm tone, “She’s with me; she’s fine, don’t worry. It’s just a bit inve for her to ahe phht now.”

  Not knowing what was said , Jiang g walked a few steps away, c his mouth with his hand and whispering a few words.

  Fatty wao follow, but Jiang g stopped him with aremely serious look.

  It wasn’t until they left Building C that fatty seemed to e back to life, b Jiang g with questions.

  “Doctor, who was that caller?”

  Jiang g put the phoo his pocket, which looked stuffed with unknown items.

  “Feng Lan,” Jiang g said without turning back. “She said Yu Wen had asked her to talk about something, but she waited at the meeting spot for almost two hours without seeing her.”

  Of course, she didn’t see her; Yu Wen had already died outside the music in Building C.

  As if recalling something, fatty’s expression suddenly turense. “Doctor,” he looked at Jiang g, asking nervously, “the Feng Lan who called wouldn’t be a ghost in disguise, would she?”

  Jiang g rubbed his . “I don’t think so, but we ’t pletely rule out that possibility.”

  “Then you o be careful,” fatty said with . “It might be that answering the phoriggers the ghost’s killing meism; you might have already been locked onto by the ghost.”

  Upon hearing this, Jiang g turned around and patted fatty’s shoulder, moved. “Good buddy, you don’t o worry about me; I’ve already thought of that and prepared termeasures in advance.”

  Fatty admired Jiang g even more, feeling that entering such a person in a nightmare was truly a blessing from a past life. He also reached out and patted Jiang g on the shoulder, excitedly asking, “Doctor, how did you mahat?”

  “The other party asked for my identity at the end,” Jiang g said slowly, “and I told her my name was Wang Fugui.”

  “Doctor, I thank yht aors!”

  ---

  Uhe old dormitory building, a woman ed in a scarf exhaled into her hands.

  She wasn’t particurly tall but had clearly put a lot of effort into her appearance, with the pink colr of her sweater flipped outward, making her look especially cute.

  Her light blue jeans hung straight down, and below them were a pair of white wide-mouthed leather shoes with a tiny red heart mark on the edges.

  A little trick of a woman.

  She had been waiting there for a long, long time, but the person she was waiting for had not shown up.

  The sky gradually darkened, and the temperature dropped.

  She pulled her hand out of her outer jacket pocket, looking at her phone, and her expression suddenly turned dreamy.

  “Miss Yu,” she whispered softly.

  “Why is the phone I gave you in a man’s hands…”

  g the phone, her expression suddenly turned cold. She stared at the distant night, her lips pressed into a straight line.

  “Wang Fugui.”

  ---

  “Fatty,” Jiang g asked, “are you feelier?”

  After Jiang g and fatty left Building C, they walked along the mp-lit path toward the equipment room.

  On the ast the cafeteria, Jiang g caught a whiff of a stro aroma and, uhe pretext of treating fatty, forcibly dragged him inside.

  He generously let fatty order anything, saying he would treat him.

  “Why do I feel like something’s off here?” Fatty looked around the empty cafeteria, his face turning pale with fear.

  Not a single person was in sight, yet all the lights were on, and the gss behind the serving ter was filled with freshly cooked dishes.

  Jiang g reached out and touched the food; it was still piping hot.

  They even took a stroll into the kit, where the door was ajar, and several chef’s uniforms were draped over the back of a chair.

  Everything seemed orderly, as if everyone had left simultaneously just a sed before they entered.

  When Jiang g lifted the lid of a pot, it was still bubbling with meat soup.

  Steam wafted out along with the fragrant aroma.

  Jiang g stared at the soup i, as if remembering something. He then found a spoon in a nearby cupboard, took a bit, and tasted it.

  Fatty was startled by Jiang g’s a, not uanding what he was trying to do.

  But then—

  “Hmm.”

  Jiang g’s expression suddenly ged, t into one of distress.

  “Doctor,” fatty excimed, “what’s wrong with you?”

  He instinctively looked toward the pot, recalling his years of experieh films that suggested the soup might be poisoned.

  But fatty uzzled—would a ghost even poison something? Was that necessary?

  As fatty pondered how to rescue Jiang g, the tter suddenly spoke up.

  “It’s so hot,” Jiang g opened his mouth wide, fanning himself with his hand and breathing heavily.

  “Hot?” Fatty’s eyes widened.

  Feeling it was about time, Jiang g covered his mouth, set down the spoon he was holding, and casually picked up a dle used by chefs to serve soup. While dling, he said to fatty beside him, “Let’s dle it out first; we drink it when it cools down a bit.”

  Fatty: “…”

  Jiang g turo look at fatty and asked, “Aren’t you drinking?”

  Fatty paused for a moment and seriously replied, “Doctor, have you sidered that maybe your being an orphan isn’t a ce?”

  (End of the Chapter)

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