Is there really such a thing as ghosts in this world?
If we follow the core values of socialism, then definitely not.
All demons and ghosts are just feudal superstition—decayed dregs that should be overthrown and criticized.
Just like Zhang Xianyu’s master, Zhang Jianguo.
He had been a Taoist priest for decades, performing more rituals than one could count.
But he himself never believed in deities or spirits.
He often told Zhang Xianyu: “As long as you follow the Party, there’s nothing to fear—not even demons.”
Being a Taoist was merely a way to make a living.
He actually hoped Zhang Xianyu would focus on his studies, get into a good university, find a decent job, and live a smooth life.
Zhang Xianyu never argued with him—because he knew his master couldn’t see what he saw.
There are too many people who can’t see.
A thin veil separates the yin and yang worlds.
Those who can see are rare, or are labeled as freaks.
From a young age, Zhang Xianyu understood that people had a “Lord Ye loves dragons” kind of attitude toward ghosts.
If you say ghosts don’t exist, someone will bring up mysterious phenomena from thousands of years of history that science can’t explain.
But if you say they do exist, they’ll list countless cases proving that the world is rational and scientific—no ghosts, no gods.
Zhang Xianyu didn’t like debating.
When Luo Danqing asked him, he only hesitated a second before replying: “If you believe, then they exist. If you don’t, they don’t.”
“If you believe, then they exist…”
Luo Danqing quietly mulled over the phrase, his expression mixed with joy and sorrow.
Finally, he shook his head, as if convincing himself: “I don’t believe.”
If gods or ghosts truly existed, then his parents shouldn’t have died so tragically.
“Let’s wake him up first.”
Luo Danqing composed himself.
“Can we do that now?”
Zhang Xianyu nodded, went to the bathroom, wet a towel, and laid it across Zheng Pang’s face.
The unconscious Zheng Pang let out a couple groggy groans, suddenly sat up, and shouted: “Who dares to assassinate me?!”
Then he came back to his senses, looked around confused, and mumbled: “Why aren’t you all asleep? What are you doing in the middle of the night?”
Luo Danqing snapped: “Shouldn’t we be asking you that? Sleepwalking in the middle of the night?”
Zheng Pang scratched his head, realizing he was in pajamas sitting on the floor, looking baffled.
“Me? Sleepwalking? That can’t be right—I’ve never sleepwalked before!”
“You got up in the middle of the night and ran downstairs like a zombie. We couldn’t even stop you. If that’s not sleepwalking, what is it?”
Still skeptical, Zheng Pang looked pitifully at Zhang Xianyu: “Fishy, you tell me…did I really sleepwalk?”
Zhang Xianyu didn’t nod or shake his head. Instead, he asked: “Did you dream anything?”
Zheng Pang furrowed his brow and thought.
“Not really…I just slept really deeply…though…I think there was a voice calling me? But I can’t really remember.”
“Then go to the infirmary tomorrow. For now, get some rest,”
Zhang Xianyu said.
“That’s it?”
Zheng Pang still looked confused.
Luo Danqing was surprised too.
“You’re sure it’s nothing dangerous?”
Zhang Xianyu replied calmly: “No danger. Sleep. We still have military training tomorrow.”
After a bit more fuss, the three went to sleep to save energy for training.
In the second half of the night, nothing happened.
Zhang Xianyu got up early and, while the other two were still asleep, secretly placed two talismans folded into triangles under their bedding.
After a moment’s hesitation, he removed the one under Zheng Pang’s blanket—if he scared away whatever was meddling too early, it’d be harder to find it later.
After washing up and eating breakfast, they gathered at the sports field.
After several days of training, things weren’t as painful anymore.
Everyone had gone numb and were counting down the days to finish and finally get a break.
At noon, after lunch, the three went with Zheng Pang to the infirmary.
The school doctor listened to the situation, asked about Zheng Pang’s daily routine, and concluded: “It’s likely due to fatigue from training and anxiety causing sleepwalking.”
“Keep an eye on it. If it doesn’t happen again, there’s no issue. But if it becomes frequent, he’ll need a full exam and possibly medication.”
Hearing that it wasn’t serious, Zheng Pang brightened up: “Doctor, since training has me so tired I’m sleepwalking, maybe I should take a day or two off to recover?”
The school doctor didn’t even look up: “Young people need to exercise more. You’re a bit overweight—physical activity will help with your blood sugar and cholesterol.”
Zheng Pang’s sneaky excuse was brutally rejected, and he had to trudge back to the dormitory in defeat.
After the midday break came another long afternoon of training.
Barely surviving it, Zheng Pang charged to the cafeteria howling for food.
Zhang Xianyu and Luo Danqing stayed behind to save seats.
Luo Danqing hesitated and asked: “Fatty’s going to be okay, right?”
Zhang Xianyu glanced at him.
Luo Danqing had seemed a bit off since last night, his expression conflicted.
“Didn’t you say you don’t believe?”
“What?”
Luo Danqing was stunned for a moment before realizing Zhang Xianyu was referring to what he said yesterday.
He choked slightly, then gave a low, almost inaudible,
“Mm.”
“If it’s just sleepwalking, there won’t be any problems,”
Zhang Xianyu glanced at him and gave a vague response.
While they spoke, Zheng Pang had already squeezed his way out of the crowd, carrying three takeout meals.
Luo Danqing ate without tasting anything, his expression gloomy.
In contrast, Zheng Pang instantly revived the moment food was in front of him.
As soon as he opened his mouth, he started gossiping again,
“Do you guys remember that couple from the history department?”
Zhang Xianyu raised his eyes slightly.
“What about them?”
Zheng Pang lowered his voice,
“I heard…something’s off about them.”
He couldn’t say exactly what was wrong—it was second- or third-hand information after all.
“Their roommates said that ever since they came back, they’ve been like totally different people.”
“Maybe they just don’t get along with their roommates. It’s only been a few days—how well can you really know someone’s personality?”
Luo Danqing said.
“It’s a feeling! Don’t you get it?”
Zheng Pang waved his fork so animatedly that rice flew out of his mouth.
“Anyway, they said it’s creepy. After they came back, they were both gloomy and quiet. One time, the guy’s roommate even saw him walking on his heels.”
Who walks on their heels like that?
Only ghosts do that.
The two of them seemed fine on the surface, joining the military training every day like nothing happened.
Their roommates couldn’t even find a solid reason to report it to the instructor or counselor.
So the story started spreading quietly among the freshmen, making everyone uneasy.
“What are their names?”
Zhang Xianyu asked.
Zheng Pang thought for a moment,
“The guy’s name is Sun Zhengqing, and the girl’s last name is Wang…something-He? I didn’t catch the full name. But the guy’s dorm is just in the building next to ours.”
“Can you take me to check it out after dinner?”
Zheng Pang looked surprised.
“Fishy, I thought you hated getting involved in stuff like this. You’re actually going to check it out?”
Zhang Xianyu: “…Mm.”
After dinner, the three of them really did go next door to look for the person.
Unfortunately, because there was evening training, most people hadn’t returned to the dorm yet.
Sun Zhengqing wasn’t back either, and they couldn’t go into the girls’ dorm, so they had to try their luck at the sports field.
But even after the teams assembled, they didn’t see the history department couple.
That night during a military singing competition, the freshmen suddenly grew restless again.
The instructors forbade them from running around and hurriedly gathered in the distance.
It looked like something had happened.
The students craned their necks, trying to catch bits of gossip, but didn’t know what had occurred.
When the instructors returned, their faces were grim.
One of them sternly ordered the students to return to their dorms immediately after dismissal, and to stop wandering around.
Zhang Xianyu guessed that perhaps another student had gone missing.
He wanted to sneak off and take another look at the bomb shelter.
But Zheng Pang clung to him tightly, refusing to let him go that way.
Thinking of his plan for the night, Zhang Xianyu decided to hold off for now.
There would be more opportunities.
After all, you can’t outrun a temple just because you scared off a monk.
After washing up that night, Zhang Xianyu and Luo Danqing exchanged a glance and, without needing to speak, agreed not to sleep.
Zheng Pang, carefree as always, lay in bed reading web novels on his phone.
After a while, sleepiness took over and he dozed off.
The dorm was quiet, with only Zheng Pang’s loud breathing breaking the silence.
Zhang Xianyu lay back with his hands behind his head, listening to the chirping of insects outside, patiently waiting.
Around 2:00 a.m., the deeply asleep Zheng Pang suddenly sat up again, threw off his blanket, and began climbing down the bed with stiff movements.
Luo Danqing sat up, opened his mouth to call out, but Zhang Xianyu made a silent gesture, placing a finger to his lips.
Then he quietly followed after Zheng Pang.
Luo Danqing gritted his teeth and followed too.
Zheng Pang’s movements were still rigid and clumsy, but his speed was unexpectedly fast.
He went down the stairs quickly in an awkward posture, even more urgently than the night before.
Zhang Xianyu slowed down to let Luo Danqing catch up, patted him on the shoulder as if giving instructions—but actually took the chance to stick a concealment talisman on his back.
“Follow me. Don’t make a sound.”
Luo Danqing nodded and carefully matched Zhang Xianyu’s pace.
Soon, they reached the first floor.
Zheng Pang rushed at the iron gate, shaking it with both hands, seemingly desperate to leave.
Strangely, even though the chains clanged loudly against the metal, the dorm supervisor didn’t appear.
It felt like something outside was calling him.
Zheng Pang grabbed the chains tightly and twisted them with all his might.
There was a faint snapping sound—and the chain actually broke.
The heavy iron chain clattered to the ground, and Zheng Pang staggered out the gate.
“Wtf…”
“Shh…”
Zhang Xianyu placed a finger to his lips and shook his head, continuing to follow unhurriedly.
Luo Danqing looked at the fallen chain, then the open gate, heart pounding.
They kept about three meters behind Zheng Pang.
Mist had begun to gather outside the dormitory, cloaking Zheng Pang in a pale fog, his figure flickering in and out of view.
Luo Danqing rubbed his arms.
The air felt colder.
Zhang Xianyu had one hand in his pocket, calmly fingering a stack of talismans as he followed steadily.
Maybe it was because it had finally lured someone out, but the thing had lowered its guard, impatiently revealing itself and guiding the way ahead of Zheng Pang.
If Luo Danqing could see it, he’d realize—they weren’t following one person anymore.
But two.