Carrying My Senior's Coffin (GL) - Chapter 4

Yes, the reason she was here was precisely because of the ghost haunting the room.

Come to think of it, Youlan, Manman, and the others were excitedly planning to play the “planchette” (Ouija) just last week, preparing for four or five days. Yet, they never mentioned it again this week. She had thought they gave up, but judging by the current situation, had they perhaps already acted on it?

But the outcome didn’t seem good, otherwise, why would they pull her in as a scapegoat?

Once, Fang Yiyi was returning with water and, outside the dorm door, she heard them talking about the incident. Their voices were tinged with fear, babbling incoherently, and her name popped up occasionally. Fang Yiyi felt it was truly a bad time to go in, so she stood by the door, holding her little thermos, and listened for a while. She got the gist of it: it was easier to invite the spirit than to send it away, and they had caused trouble. However, through the door, she couldn’t hear clearly. Fang Yiyi waited for a while, then purposely walked around the field before returning.

The girls had been secretive these past few days, and their frequency of tormenting her had also decreased. Fang Yiyi pieced things together and had a slight understanding of their intentions, but she still adopted a passive attitude, cooperating by pretending not to know.

She felt indifferent, thinking that perhaps death wouldn’t be so bad; maybe she could see her long-lost parents.

When a person is alone for too long, living life according to a routine, huddled in a dark corner, never seeing the light, they gradually forget what sunlight looks like. They become more certain that this is how they are supposed to be: unnoticed by anyone, unworthy of cherish, disposable.

If that’s the case, what does it matter if she truly disappears?

Perhaps deep down, there was a small sense of relief—if she truly couldn’t stay alive, when she met her parents in the afterlife, she could argue: I tried my best, but the situation didn’t allow it, so you can’t blame me!

Moreover, years of resigned obedience had been etched into her bones.

Despite all this, the innate will to survive, inherent to life, took over uncontrollably.

So, when danger descended, no matter how prepared Fang Yiyi was, her mind instantly cleared.

As the chill approached, Fang Yiyi clearly felt something intensely staring at her nearby. Every pore in her body screamed for escape. Her brain sounded a sharp alarm, and the urge to flee rushed through every nerve.

But she could do nothing.

Her hands and feet were disobedient, as if detached from her. She couldn’t even perform the simple act of opening her eyes. Yet, her nerve endings were more sensitive than ever. She could clearly feel that the “thing” was within arm’s reach, holding her life in its power, ready to take it at any moment.

Fang Yiyi felt like she was breathing rapidly, but in reality, the rise and fall of her chest was so faint it was almost non-existent.

Her nerves were taut as a fully drawn bowstring, yet beads of cold sweat dropped like beans, soaking into the bedding beneath her.

Somehow, the quilt that had been covering her was now pressed flat beneath her, like cardboard.

Fang Yiyi lay still, her hands crossed over her chest, like a living sacrifice about to be placed in a coffin and offered to a demon.

A cold, hard object was slowly tracing a line down her nose from her forehead. Everywhere it touched, the chill was bone-deep.

This cold was colder than the bitterest winter she had ever experienced, as if her blood was frozen and couldn’t flow.

A heavy stone seemed to be pressing on her chest, making it impossible to breathe.

Gradually, the oxygen intake dwindled, and her clear mind became increasingly hazy. She couldn’t tell what she was doing or where she was, leaving only one thought: I’m going to die.

A sharp, grating roar and howl rang in her ears, jarring and unpleasant, yet possessing an irresistible magic, summoning her to rush toward it.

Fang Yiyi instinctively drew closer in that direction. The howling grew louder, like the wailing of countless people enduring extreme pain, filled with resentment and grievance, one after the other, forming an inescapable net.

She gradually approached, and now she could make out a word or two, though still blurry. Fang Yiyi couldn’t help but move closer.

She was just about to understand.

Suddenly, she felt as if she had stepped into empty space. All surrounding sounds vanished. Silence reigned, utterly quiet.

In front of her was the usual darkness.

Fang Yiyi was stunned. Then, another sound began—this time, the regular, rhythmic sound of dripping water.

Drip—Drip—Drip—

It wasn’t noisy at all, but rather eerily quiet, and hauntingly familiar.

Fang Yiyi suddenly opened her eyes.

The curtains had been pulled open at some point. By the cold, white moonlight, Fang Yiyi met a pair of eyes with no white sclera.

They were a deep, dark black, tainted with a gruesome scarlet, like dried blood, filling the entire eye sockets. The chilling stench of death wafted toward her, right in front of her face.

Fang Yiyi was so scared that she stopped breathing.

From a distance, a distorted figure was hovering over Fang Yiyi. Its long black hair draped down onto the pillow on both sides of her face. Through the gaps in the stray strands, patches of grayish-blue skin occasionally showed through, utterly horrifying.

Suddenly, the owner of the face grinned.

When it smiled, it looked somewhat normal, but with a noticeable rigidity. It wasn’t the kind of startling, visually shocking horror, but a deeper, more profound kind of dread that chilled her to the core.

Blood dripped down, one drop at a time, landing on Fang Yiyi’s face. The smell of blood assailed her nostrils.

Fang Yiyi didn’t know how to react. All her prior plans of “generous self-sacrifice” and mental preparations were instantly thrown out the window. The will to survive took over.

Gathering strength from who knows where, Fang Yiyi shoved the figure away. She ran to the door in two great strides and, realizing what she was doing, found herself desperately twisting the doorknob, but it wouldn’t open.

An eerie laugh came from behind her.

Turning back in terror, she saw the female ghost sitting on the bed. Beneath her was Fang Yiyi’s quilt, smoothed flat without a single wrinkle. The ghost’s bare feet dangled, swinging beneath the tattered clothes that intermittently exposed her legs. With her sclera-less eyes, she watched Fang Yiyi with a smirk, fully at her ease.

Fang Yiyi was so terrified her legs went weak. She leaned against the door to keep from collapsing onto the floor, stammering incoherently: “I didn’t harm you, you, you, don’t come over. I didn’t call you, don’t hurt me… Don’t come here…”

The female ghost cocked her head, seemingly trying to decipher her words, then began to cackle. The laughter was sharp, sounding inhuman.

Fang Yiyi pressed against the door, trembling as she wiped the blood from her face.

Then, the ghost stood up, and as Fang Yiyi’s expression grew more panicked, it approached her step by step.

Fang Yiyi was completely paralyzed with fear. Leaning on the door, she wailed loudly and beat the door panel, like a drowning person clutching at the only straw, begging for someone to happen to pass by, hear her cries, and open the door—even just to twist the handle.

She didn’t even dare to look back.

Her ankle was seized. The icy coldness pierced her bone marrow. Fang Yiyi watched helplessly as the dorm door receded further and further from her sight.

Fang Yiyi was dragged back onto the bed.

The ghost loomed over her, one hand clamping down on her wildly flailing arm, pinning it to the headboard. In the lamb’s desperate gaze, the ghost lowered her body, steadied her lips that were white with fear.

The smell of blood filled her nasal cavity.

When her clothes were ripped, everything Fang Yiyi saw was stained with blood-like red.

…

Fang Yiyi was jolted awake by the blaring of her alarm clock.

Looking up at the unfamiliar yet familiar dorm ceiling, she had a sense of unreality, as if she had been transported through time.

The memories of last night flooded her mind: the ghostly face, the grayish-white skin, the cold stiffness, her helpless cries, and a rapid succession of bizarre yet unspeakable images.

Fang Yiyi found it unbelievable. She, a living person, had stayed a night in a haunted room and, not only did she not die, but she was also forced into an indescribable relationship with a ghost.

She looked around. The room looked just as it had when she arrived last night: dust all over the floor, her suitcase carelessly tossed aside. There were no marks on the floor from where she had been dragged.

She wondered if she had just had a terrible nightmare, but the pain radiating from her body clearly told her not to be delusional.

Enduring the pain, Fang Yiyi struggled to sit up. She threw back the quilt. Her clothes were fully intact, which confused her. Weren’t my clothes ripped last night?

She strangely tugged at her clothes, and they fell off in tatters, revealing skin mottled with red marks like strawberries.

Fang Yiyi clutched the quilt and quickly lay flat, pretending she hadn’t seen anything in a bout of self-deception.

But she couldn’t stay like this.

Fang Yiyi stared at the ceiling, contemplating her life, planning to rest a little longer, then go talk to the counselor to see if she could change dorms.

Although the possibility was slim.

Since her classmates were able to get her moved here, they must have prepared, making sure she couldn’t easily go back.

After all, having been classmates for over a year, she knew them well enough. They weren’t good-natured, but they were efficient in their plotting and usually didn’t leave loose ends.

If all else failed, she would rent a place outside. She worked daily and was very frugal with her expenses. She had enough money saved for a cheap single room.

In any case, she absolutely could not stay in this dorm.

That ghost treated her in such a way last night; who knows, it might plan to take her life tonight. After this ordeal, Fang Yiyi completely understood the importance of life and no longer dared to harbor suicidal thoughts. No matter how beautiful the world is, it’s not easy to live once. Why would I want to return early?

Near noon, Fang Yiyi finally mustered the courage to get out of bed. She dragged her “battered” body and rushed to the counselor’s office.

The counselor was a beautiful young woman with glasses and a long ponytail, not much older than the students. She was generally kind and had always been amiable toward Fang Yiyi, who respected her from the bottom of her heart.

Fang Yiyi knocked on the door, and upon hearing the “Come in,” she opened the door and entered.

The counselor, wearing a white dress, was standing by the water dispenser, holding a transparent glass full of water. When she saw Fang Yiyi enter, she did not look as gentle as usual, frowning almost imperceptibly.

Fang Yiyi was accustomed to reading people’s expressions and immediately noticed the subtle shift in her expression and demeanor. A bad premonition flooded her mind.

However, being the counselor, the woman quickly adjusted her expression and smiled as warmly as usual: “Yiyi, what can I help you with?”

“Teacher, I want to change dorm rooms.” Fang Yiyi stepped into the office and closed the door. She walked a little awkwardly because of her discomfort.

“Hmm? You’re not used to the new dorm? But your old dorm is already full.”

“I know, with the new transfer student,” Fang Yiyi chose her words carefully. “Teacher, could you see if I could move out and live off-campus…”

“Fang Yiyi!” The counselor suddenly changed her demeanor and cut her off, her tone becoming stern. “Your roommates have come to me more than once to complain that your lifestyle is not disciplined, and I didn’t believe them. But look at you now! What do you look like? And you want to move out and live off-campus? Where would you go? How old are you? I always teach you to not be greedy for immediate pleasure but to look to the future! Our Zhengling Women’s University is a top school in the country, unlike those low-class institutions! I am responsible for every one of you! Look at you! You’re normally such a good girl. If the evidence weren’t right in front of me, I would never believe you’d be like this. Fang Yiyi, you are… you are truly such a disappointment to me!”

Fang Yiyi was stunned for a moment, then said, “Teacher, you must be misunderstanding. What are you talking about…”

The counselor looked at her with disappointment, as if she were a lost cause: “I’ve been around; what do I not know? Look at the way you just walked. Now look at this,” The counselor reached out and tugged on the scarf Fang Yiyi was using to cover her neck, revealing the strawberry-like red marks underneath. “Look, huh? I know you’re not a child, and I don’t object to you having a boyfriend, but there has to be a limit, right?”

Fang Yiyi’s eyes went red with panic. She urgently explained: “Teacher, you misunderstood! This is not, not what you think. Teacher, please believe me!”

“Still refusing to admit it? Then explain this to me!” Saying that, she pulled out a photograph and slammed it onto the desk. She then pulled a chair over and sat down, huffing through her nose.

Fang Yiyi glanced over and, once she saw it clearly, her face instantly turned pale.

In the photo, Fang Yiyi was wearing a miniskirt and standing at the entrance of a bar, holding a blue cocktail. She was tilted to the side, looking up at a tall, middle-aged man next to her with the eyes of a doe. The man had his arm around her shoulder. Besides them, two other men stood nearby, both older, in their late middle age, looking at Fang Yiyi with appraising, lecherous eyes.