Yuying University
Chapter 413
Next, Wen Jianyan recounted everything that had happened to him in the gymnasium and the crisis he faced during PE class to Orange Candy and the others.
Although he spoke lightly and made it sound simple, even so, the listeners could still feel the intensity behind it.
Even after Wen Jianyan finished telling his story, the air remained eerily silent.
After a long while, Tian Ye finally spoke, still a little dazed:
“Damn, bro… your experience in this instance is way too packed…”
It was several times more intense than theirs!
Wen Jianyan: “…”
Pfft, you think I wanted any of this?!
Sitting high on a rock nearby, Orange Candy tilted her head thoughtfully, swinging her two slender legs absentmindedly.
“So, you’re saying… all the films in the Film Appreciation elective are connected?”
Wen Jianyan looked over and chose his words carefully. “Not necessarily all of them, but at least some of them are connected.”
“And also…”
He paused, then said, “I think all the main characters in those movies were once students at Yuying Comprehensive University, and those scenes and plots actually happened.”
As they progressed deeper into the instance, more details emerged and started aligning.
Whether it was the diary they found on the fifth floor of the dorm or the student ID of Wang Ni found in the gymnasium—these indirectly supported that theory. But more importantly…
Wen Jianyan slightly turned his head and looked toward the brick-red building they had just left.
[Supermarket]
Previously, he hadn’t been able to fully confirm whether the school shown in the films was the same as the one in their current instance, because many elements in the movie didn’t perfectly match the environment of the instance.
Including this small supermarket.
However, this supermarket—which didn’t appear on any map, wasn’t mentioned in the freshman handbook, and only existed within the film’s plot—was now standing right before his eyes, undeniably real.
At that moment, Wen Jianyan was finally certain of his hypothesis.
The university in the movie might be the very same Yuying Comprehensive University—before it became a instance, before it was twisted.
Orange Candy instantly understood Wen Jianyan’s implication:
“You want to use the movie’s plot to deduce the reason this instance came into existence?”
Looking for clues within the instance is a known way to raise its exploration progress and gradually approach its core.
That was exactly the path Hugo chose.
He clearly knew that following the standard path made it very difficult to touch the core of the instance directly—otherwise, this open-ended instance with only an A-level difficulty and no time limit wouldn’t still have an exploration rate of less than 30%.
That’s why he split off from the group to explore the edges of the instance alone.
Still… trying to reverse-engineer the instance’s origin by learning about the school’s history before it became twisted could also be a smart approach.
Wen Jianyan nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay!” Orange Candy’s eyes sparkled as she cheerfully snapped her fingers. “Let’s do it!”
She grinned, swinging her legs. “I wanna see what that guy Hugo will say when we manage to surpass his exploration progress using the normal route. Let’s see if he’ll keep talking in riddles!”
Clearly, Orange Candy still held a grudge about Hugo’s cryptic behavior and unwillingness to share information.
She swayed her head and dramatically acted out a scene:
“Miss Orange Candy, I was wrong! I admit you’re the best! Please be generous and tell me what you know!”
“Uh…” Tian Ye looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated.
That… didn’t really sound like something Hugo would say… right?
Wei Cheng sighed, placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave it a solemn shake.
If you don’t want to be targeted by the team leader for the foreseeable future, it’s best not to say anything right now.
—Their team leader, after all, is very petty.
Orange Candy leapt from the stone block and landed directly in front of Wen Jianyan:
“It’s all up to you now!”
Wen Jianyan was startled by Orange Candy suddenly getting so close. His still-recovering brain froze a little, and he instinctively leaned back against a tree.
“…Huh?”
All up to me?
What?
“Exploring the instance, of course!” Orange Candy’s eyes sparkled brightly.
She rolled her eyes and said very naturally, “You don’t actually think I’m the type to do brainy stuff, do you?”
Wen Jianyan: “…”
Well…
No, not really.
“Anyway, I’m officially assigning this to you now,” Orange Candy said solemnly. “Make sure we move faster than that Hugo guy. If we succeed, your reward will be doubled!”
Whoa!
Wen Jianyan’s eyes lit up.
Boss is generous!
Although he took on this “task” primarily to fulfill the promise he made during the Changsheng Building instance, it wasn’t like Orange Candy didn’t offer any payment.
In fact, her rates were pretty high.
And now she was straight-up doubling them? That was a serious power move.
The youth, who had just moments ago been pale-faced, now wore a professional smile—gentle, sincere, and persuasive, radiating trust:
“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best.”
Yun Bilan and Su Cheng: “…”
Wei Cheng and Tian Ye: “…”
The members from both teams exchanged looks. For some reason, they all felt a strange, mutual illusion arise in their hearts…
Wasn’t this what people called… partners in crime?
“So, what should we do next?”
Perhaps inspired by the thought of stomping Hugo underfoot, Orange Candy was uncharacteristically enthusiastic about unraveling the instance’s secret.
Wen Jianyan thought for a moment and said:
“Next, we should split into two groups.”
“One group should write a reflection essay on the film Brave Richard, and the other group will remain stationary.”
His eyes swept across the team.
“Tian Ye, Yun Bilan, and Su Cheng—you three, don’t touch that sheet for now. As for Wei Cheng and Orange Candy, you two should focus on getting your film review completion rate to 100%.”
Wen Jianyan hadn’t yet fully recovered physically. He leaned against a tree, face pale and appearing weak, but his expression remained calm and rational—like a strategist surveying a chessboard, carefully considering each move to come.
After a moment’s thought, he added:
“The next film appreciation class is tomorrow afternoon. It’d be best to finish the assignment before then. Can you manage that?”
“Mm-hmm.” Orange Candy nodded eagerly like a pecking chick.
As the only one in the group who had completed the assignment, Wen Jianyan briefly outlined the key points needed for writing the review.
For experienced anchors like Orange Candy and Wei Cheng, even this rough framework was more than enough.
“In that case, let’s split up for now,” Wen Jianyan said, glancing up at the sky.
Whether due to the nature of the instance or not, the sky darkened unusually early.
It had already been dim before, but now it was gradually turning gray and foggy, casting an ominous atmosphere.
“Alright.”
Orange Candy shrugged in agreement.
After all, per Wen Jianyan’s “plan,” she and Wei Cheng had to complete their “homework” by the next day’s class. Time was tight—no reason to delay.
“What about you? What are you going to do next?”
Orange Candy looked at Wen Jianyan with interest.
After all, even though PE class had ended…
“Explore the instance?”
“No,” Wen Jianyan unexpectedly shook his head and said thoughtfully, “There’s something else I need to take care of.”
He turned toward the direction of the dormitory buildings and added:
“And I’d better finish it before the other anchors come back.”
“Got it.” Orange Candy didn’t press further and nodded nonchalantly. “Stay safe.”
After all that was settled, Wen Jianyan braced himself on the tree and shakily stood up.
As he moved, something suddenly fell from his pocket.
Startled, Wen Jianyan looked down.
A strip of red fabric had slumped onto the grass near his feet.
“What’s that?” Tian Ye asked in confusion.
Wei Cheng, on the other hand, seemed to realize something. He gasped, “Wait—isn’t that…”
Wen Jianyan paused, then bent down and picked up the fabric.
The blood-colored cloth wrapped loosely around his fingers. It felt cold to the touch, but strangely textured—not quite like fabric meant for humans, and more like…
Human skin?
A shiver ran down Wen Jianyan’s back.
His mind flashed back to the crimson, blood-seeping running track on the field earlier.
As time passed, it had tightened around them like a noose—shrinking, closing in—until all safe zones vanished.
That was a student council armband.
It was precisely by identifying that detail that Wen Jianyan was able to locate a small escape point along the supposedly looping track.
He examined the armband carefully from every angle.
It was clearly a student council-related item, but its specific function remained unclear.
It was identical to the red cloth Hugo had used to block the window earlier. But unlike actual student council members’ armbands, which had the words “Student Council” embroidered on them, this one was completely blank.
Orange Candy let out a low, melodious whistle.
“Not bad.”
Wen Jianyan: “?”
Orange Candy tilted her head and said, “Hugo mentioned before that he had to break school rules to get this kind of armband.”
She chuckled mischievously:
“If he finds out that you earned one just by successfully escaping a pursuit, he’s probably going to regret it so much he’ll jump out of his seat!”
Her eyes sparkled. “Wait here, I’m gonna message him right now.”
Wen Jianyan: “…”
That grudge runs deep.
Although he knew Orange Candy was doing this mostly to spite Hugo, Wen Jianyan didn’t stop her.
After all, the only person who knew where this thing came from, what it was for, and how to use it—was Hugo.
After furiously typing out a long message, Orange Candy smugly stowed away her phone.
“He’s probably still busy right now, so he won’t see it immediately—but don’t worry, he’ll reply eventually.”
“Anyway, keep that thing safe,” she said, looking up and reminding him. “Once Hugo sees it, he’ll get in touch.”
Wen Jianyan carefully put the cold, ominous armband back into his pocket.
“Okay.”
After finishing their conversation, the group headed back to the dormitory area once again.
Night had fully fallen.
Under the gloomy sky stood gray buildings, faintly illuminated by cold, pale lights—lights that could not push back the growing darkness, let alone offer any sense of safety.
“See you tomorrow!”
Orange Candy waved at Wen Jianyan with her usual carefree smile.
After watching Orange Candy and the others leave, Wen Jianyan and his group also turned back toward the boys’ dormitory.
“So, what are you going to do next?” Su Cheng asked as they walked.
Wen Jianyan thought for a moment and replied,
“I’m going to investigate some things related to last night… and stop by Room 504.”
Now that he was certain the university in the film was the same as the one they were currently in, Room 504—right above them—should be the very room Richard once lived in. Wen Jianyan couldn’t be sure whether they’d find any crucial clues there… but it was worth a look.
He glanced at Su Cheng. “Wanna come?”
Su Cheng nodded. “Sure.”
Tian Ye hesitantly raised his hand. “Um… what about me?”
According to Wen Jianyan’s plan, Wei Cheng needed to finish the film analysis assignment tonight, so he couldn’t join the fifth-floor investigation. Tian Ye and Su Cheng, meanwhile, were in the “no assignment tonight” second team—meaning Tian Ye didn’t have anything to do either.
Su Cheng looked at Tian Ye for a moment.
“You want to come too?”
His tone didn’t change, but a faint hint of surprise flickered in his dark eyes.
Tian Ye: “……”
Do you look down on me?
Is that it?!
“You want to come along?” Wen Jianyan also looked over and smiled gently. “Sure.”
“…………”
He could go… but—
Tian Ye glanced at Wen Jianyan and, for some reason, remembered how casually he had recounted his harrowing near-death experiences. A cold shiver ran down Tian Ye’s spine, and a sense of dread crept in.
“But…”
As if reading his mind, Wen Jianyan spoke at just the right moment:
“There’s still elective class tomorrow. I think it’s best if you rest up tonight.”
Tian Ye: “!”
Such a good guy!
An angel!!
In the “Integrity First” livestream chat:
[Kid’s got good instincts.]
[LMAO, staying away from God Wen = surviving the instance?]
After sending Tian Ye off, Wen Jianyan and Su Cheng climbed the stairs and soon reached the fourth floor of the dorm.
The stairwell lights flickered faintly, illuminating the walls stained with grime. The hallway was deserted.
After all, PE class had only just ended. Some anchors still had other classes to rush to, and even those without classes had countless places to explore and side quests to trigger in this open-world instance. No one would be back in the dorm this early.
“Wait. Before we head upstairs, there’s something I need to do.”
Wen Jianyan paused. Instead of going up to the fifth floor, he turned and led Su Cheng to Room 404.
The dorm room was dark inside.
Clearly, his “roommates” hadn’t returned yet.
Wen Jianyan took out a key and unlocked the door.
The room was pitch black. A faint damp, metallic odor greeted them.
Click—he turned on the lights.
“This is your room?” Su Cheng asked, looking around.
Wen Jianyan: “Yep.”
He looked at Su Cheng. “Well? How is it?”
Su Cheng’s review was blunt: “Pretty creepy.”
Then he added, “Creepier than mine.”
In the “Integrity First” livestream chat:
[LMAOOO brutal review!]
[Hahahaha not holding back at all!]
Wen Jianyan: “……”
Forget it. I’m used to it.
He knew his luck well enough.
He sighed and walked over to the lower bunk of his bed.
Wen Jianyan lifted the mosquito net and bent down, inspecting every corner of the bed with careful precision—lifting the pillow, blanket, feeling around the mattress edges—he didn’t miss a single detail.
The weasel hadn’t left behind much evidence on the bed, but—
He narrowed his eyes, placed his palm on the mattress, and slowly ran it over the surface.
Yep. Damp.
Su Cheng spoke up from nearby:
“So, this is the bed of your ‘roommate’ who joined a club? What happened to him?”
Wen Jianyan straightened up.
“Well… it’s complicated.”
First, the guy was the only one who hadn’t been dragged into the film last night. Then Wen Jianyan saw his face in the black water at the gym. And later, he appeared again during PE.
At this point, Wen Jianyan genuinely couldn’t tell whether the guy was dead or alive.
Su Cheng: “Want me to do a reading?”
“No need,” Wen Jianyan replied.
There were too many mysteries in this instance. No point wasting Su Cheng’s talent when things were still so unclear.
Wen Jianyan opened his backpack and pulled out a prop.
It was a yellowed, faded bear sticker.
He carefully placed the sticker on the rear part of the bunk frame, tucked deep in the shadows—almost impossible to spot without actively searching.
Before it expired, the sticker could record nearby visuals and audio.
After setting it, Wen Jianyan quickly restored the bed to its original state and stepped away.
Su Cheng looked up toward the ceiling of the upper bunk, frowning slightly.
“So this is where you’ve been sleeping at night?”
“Yeah,” Wen Jianyan looked over. “Why?”
Su Cheng: “It gives me a bad feeling. You should switch to another bed.”
He paused, then added:
“But… if that eerie presence is actually following you, then switching probably won’t help much anyway.”
Wen Jianyan: “……”
Wow, thanks a lot.
In the “Integrity First” livestream chat:
[LMAO was that a psychic’s roast?]
[No, that’s just someone who knows this anchor’s trash luck.]
[HAHAHA Su Cheng: I’ve seen too much. It’s just how it is now.]
[Also, Su Cheng’s talent’s really evolving fast.]
[Yeah, he doesn’t even need Tarot cards anymore to get a read. Something definitely changed…]
[Plus, he was the one who found the hidden supermarket when Wen was unconscious. Pretty sure that side area had never been unlocked before.]
After finishing all that, Wen Jianyan and Su Cheng left Room 404 and headed up to the fifth floor.
The layout of the fifth floor was no different from the fourth.
Narrow and filthy hallway, dorm room doors on either side tightly shut. Not a soul in sight. Only Wen Jianyan and Su Cheng’s footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Tap, tap, tap.
Tap.
Suddenly, Wen Jianyan stopped walking.
“Now it’s just the two of us,” he said.
He turned his head, and his eyes gleamed faintly under the dim lights. His gaze—gentle, but unreadable—landed on Su Cheng.
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
He asked.
In the “Integrity First” livestream chat:
[?]
[!]
[Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?!]
[Wait a second… Did he scare Tian Ye off earlier just so he could be alone with Su Cheng now?]
“……”
Su Cheng also stopped walking.
He stared at Wen Jianyan without saying a word.
In the dead silence of the hallway, the two of them—always on the same side since their very first instance—stood facing each other. The atmosphere between them was subtle and hard to read.
Su Cheng’s eyes were dark and deep like still water.
After a long pause, he said, “No.”
Wen Jianyan stared at him.
His ability to detect lies was sharper than anyone else’s.
It was his survival skill—etched into his bones and blood.
He knew that Su Cheng had been hiding something from him even before this instance began.
But the problem was… Wen Jianyan didn’t know what that something was.
So, he had decided to create an opportunity to talk it out.
“But…”
Su Cheng suddenly stepped forward. His face emerged into the light, and for a moment, he seemed to transform back into the version of himself from their first instance.
“No matter what, I’m always on your side.”
“Your goal is my goal. Your stance is my stance,” Su Cheng said. “I just want to help you.”
He had never spoken so sincerely.
“……” Wen Jianyan looked back at him.
Su Cheng wasn’t lying.
“…Alright.”
Wen Jianyan let out a breath and decided to stop pressing the matter, shifting his gaze away.
If Su Cheng didn’t want to talk about it, then so be it.
After all, he was growing up. A young man was allowed to have a few secrets of his own.
Wen Jianyan wasn’t so controlling that he had to hold everyone’s thoughts in the palm of his hand.
Soon, the two of them arrived at the door of Dorm Room 504.
“Keep watch.”
Wen Jianyan spoke as he crouched in front of the door, pulling out a piece of wire with practiced ease.
“Okay.”
Su Cheng nodded.
One kept lookout, the other picked the lock. Their coordination was flawless.
They were practically a crime duo.
Before long, a soft “click” sounded—the lock had been opened.
“Let’s go.” Wen Jianyan shoved the wire back into his pocket and waved at Su Cheng. “We have to move fast.”
They entered the empty room 504.
“There’s a time discrepancy between the events in the movie and the current instance,” Wen Jianyan said in a low, quick voice. “Everything here has probably been cleared out already. So we should look for things that are hard to erase—like scratches on the walls, inside cabinets, under the bed boards, that kind of stuff.”
“You take the left, I’ll take the right.” Wen Jianyan gestured.
Su Cheng nodded. “Got it.”
The two of them immediately began turning over every inch of the room.
In the “Integrity First” livestream chat:
[……Wait a second, aren’t you two a little too good at this?]
[Wen Jianyan, sure, but Su Cheng? Nooo! You were such a nice, upright young man—he’s completely corrupted now!! My heart hurts!]
[Society is doomed. Morality is dead.]
Unfortunately, their criminal careers didn’t last long.
Both of them straightened up, empty-handed, and exchanged a glance.
“Did you find anything?”
“No. You?”
“Nothing.”
Wen Jianyan stood still, deep in thought.
It made sense that there were no clues left in Room 504—after all, it wasn’t an abandoned space. People still lived here. It would’ve been impossible to preserve it exactly the way it was during Richard’s time.
But still…
Just then, Su Cheng, who was standing by the door, suddenly said, “Someone’s coming.”
As if to confirm his words, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway, steadily drawing closer.
“We need to leave,” Su Cheng urged.
“Wait.” Wen Jianyan muttered.
The next second, as if a thought had struck him, he suddenly sprang toward the corner of the room.
In the movie they’d watched last night, he distinctly remembered that Richard had been standing right in that corner—his back to the room, head pressed against the wall, body gently swaying, doing who-knows-what.
So… could there be a clue here?
As the footsteps grew louder, Wen Jianyan crouched down in the corner and switched on his flashlight, inspecting the wall carefully.
Sure enough—
On the edge of the dull gray paint, barely visible scratch marks had been left behind by fingernails, forming what looked like the start of a few words—
Wen Jianyan ran his fingers over the scratches, silently piecing the letters together.
Don’t…
Choose…
Wait.
Wen Jianyan froze.
He stared at the line of eerily familiar, chilling text with wide eyes.
Although a long time had passed and the scratch marks were almost worn away, he could still reconstruct the complete sentence from the faint remnants—
—“Don’t choose this class.”
Twisted, horrifying, and aged.
It was exactly the same sentence they had seen scratched onto the wall of the Film Appreciation classroom.
But here was the problem:
According to their earlier deductions, Richard had been a student at this university—meaning his death must’ve occurred before the instance was formed.
So when he was alive, there was no way he could have known that the details of his death would be made into a movie.
Wen Jianyan recalled Richard’s appearance from last night’s film and felt a chill run down his spine.
Which meant…
Just like the Xingwang Hotel instance, this one didn’t fully reset either—or at least, some areas of it were permanently preserved, accumulating events over time.
And the “Richard” they had seen—
Might not have been the original protagonist anymore.
That was probably another anchor who had discovered the truth… and died here.
“There’s no time.”
Su Cheng turned his head, his voice urgent.
Outside, the footsteps were now right at the door—close enough to be standing just inches away.
Wen Jianyan shot upright.
At this point, they had almost no chance of sneaking out undetected.
“Wait a second, what’s going on?” The tall, muscular anchor in front frowned as he studied the dorm room door. “I’m pretty sure we left it closed before.”
They exchanged tense glances.
Someone’s inside?
What for?
“Get ready,” one of them whispered, voice low and raspy, “Three, two—”
The final “one” hadn’t even left his mouth yet when the door suddenly creaked open from the inside.
“?!!!”
Everyone instinctively jumped back in alarm!
With a long “creeeeak,” the door swung open to reveal a pale-faced student standing coldly in the doorway.
He wore a red armband on his arm, slightly raised—at an angle that made it impossible to see what was written on it.
—A Student Council member?
All the anchors felt a shiver run down their spines.
Behind the pale student stood another with inky-black eyes and a slightly eerie aura.
“We’ve found contraband,” said the one in front.
From any angle… neither of them looked entirely human.
Wen Jianyan swept his gaze across the stunned group in front of him. His complexion was ghostly pale—still recovering—and his light-colored irises, sunk in shadow, gave off a bone-chilling, spectral vibe.
In a calm voice, he asked:
“This is your dorm room?”
