(4/10)
Yuying University
Chapter 418: “…Can I get your number?”
“…Chu Chu?”
Wang Ni stood frozen in place.
She lowered her head. Her gaze fell on the water bottle in Wen Jianyan’s hand, and for a moment, she seemed dazed.
Wen Jianyan didn’t move forward—he just held his hand in place, keeping the bottle raised, his eyes locked on her every move.
Despite the calm exterior, his heart was far from steady.
He recognized her.
That’s right—the protagonist of this film, Wang Ni, was the same short-haired girl who had been waiting outside the lecture hall for Chu Chu after class.
This confirmed his earlier suspicions.
Regardless of the other films, at the very least, the two he had personally experienced—A Day in the Life of Wang NI and Brave Richard—were deeply, unmistakably connected.
If they wanted to figure out what had really happened at Yuying Comprehensive University, then the first step had to be understanding the character relationships and clarifying the timeline.
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes.
According to the movie, Richard only began noticing anomalies after entering the gymnasium.
Later, he found Wang Ni’s corpse in the locker room beside the swimming pool.
By normal logic, that would mean Wang Ni died before Richard—
maybe even that her death triggered his.
But there was a problem:
When Richard began to experience the hallucinations, Wang Ni was still alive.
Which meant sorting out the timeline was now a matter of urgency.
Although the film’s scenes were shown sequentially, it was unclear how much time passed between them… or who had really died first.
That’s why Wen Jianyan had taken the risk:
Despite not knowing the full depth of the relationships between the three, or who had died first, he chose to reveal the bottle in front of Wang Ni.
He had no way of predicting her reaction.
But her reaction—would be a clue.
It might be the key to solving the mystery.
Wang Ni stepped forward, hand outstretched— but just before her fingers touched the water bottle, she suddenly withdrew.
Her expression changed drastically.
“No, that’s wrong. Where did you find this? Who the hell are you?!”
She bombarded him with questions, her voice rising higher and sharper—
Until it became nearly a shriek.
Question after question flew at him.
Most people would’ve been left speechless.
But unfortunately for her, the one standing in front of her was Wen Jianyan—
—a man for whom lying came as easily as breathing.
He smiled slightly, about to answer with his usual calm composure—
But before he could say a word, Wang Ni’s face drained of color.
She looked around frantically, as if searching for something.
“No… no… it’s not like that—don’t say it!”
She let out a hysterical scream, spun around, and fled without a backward glance—
Completely avoiding Wen Jianyan’s outstretched hand.
Everyone was stunned by the abrupt and chaotic turn of events.
Wen Jianyan, however, just looked down thoughtfully at the bottle in his hand.
Something was off.
If Wang Ni had accepted the water bottle and shown no recognition, then that would have implied—at least from her and Chu Chu’s perspective—
That the bottle was still with Richard, and Richard was still alive.
If she had reacted with fear and confusion, then that would have implied Richard was already dead, and the bottle had disappeared along with him.
But Wang Ni’s response…
…fell somewhere in between.
At first, she reached for it instinctively.
Then, her mood flipped—panic, confusion, anger.
She demanded to know who he was.
It was very similar to his second guess, but something about it felt slightly… off.
Wen Jianyan rubbed the surface of the bottle with his fingertips, frowning.
Was there something he’d missed?
Just then, Orange Candy’s voice came from behind him:
“This scene’s over—we need to move!”
Wen Jianyan snapped out of his thoughts and looked up.
The bathroom window, which had been perfectly intact moments before, was now gone—replaced by a glowing white light that spread like a dissolving reel of film.
“Come on, we’re following Wang Ni!”
Having learned from the last time, the group immediately sprang into action and ran in the direction Wang Ni had fled.
Wen Jianyan tucked the bottle away, preparing to follow—
But suddenly, a strange premonition made him stop in his tracks.
It was as if something had clicked in his mind.
He turned around and looked behind him.
The stall where Wang Ni had just been standing was half-open.
It was utterly silent.
Only thirty seconds remained before the white light consumed that part of the scene.
Wen Jianyan didn’t hesitate.
Driven by instinct, he spun on his heel and raced back the other way.
“Hey!” Wei Cheng noticed him and shouted in alarm, his face full of panic:
“What are you doing?! Get out of there!”
Twenty seconds left.
Wen Jianyan lunged forward and yanked open the bathroom stall door.
Inside—it was just an ordinary, narrow stall.
In the academic building, the toilets had seats.
But in the dormitory, they were squat-style.
There, in the filthy basin of the squat toilet—
Lay a black, wet, severed head.
It sat quietly in the basin, submerged in shadows—
An utterly horrifying sight.
Gurgle…
The head seemed to sense his gaze, and slowly rolled backward.
Its ghastly pale skin emerged from the darkness—
And a pair of upside-down eyes stared straight at him—
In that moment, Wen Jianyan seemed to hear a faint, unreal laugh whispering by his ear.
Heehee.
In the split second of his daze, that boundless white light—capable of devouring everything—had already reached him.
The next instant, a powerful force yanked him backward.
Caught off guard, Wen Jianyan was dragged away violently.
Before he could even regain his balance, a hard kick landed on his shin.
“Run!”
Orange Candy glared at him fiercely.
—It was obvious she had used a prop just now to pull the stunned Wen Jianyan back from danger.
“Tch!” Wen Jianyan hissed from the pain.
Grimacing, he muttered, “Fine, fine—I’m running, okay?”
Then the whole group sprinted down the empty corridor.
Wang Ni’s figure darted ahead of them, but no matter how fast they ran, she stayed just out of reach, like a silhouette always one step ahead.
She flew into the stairwell.
They followed, charging into the stairwell after her—
—and the scene changed instantly.
The movie transitioned.
Before them now was an empty cafeteria.
Cafeteria?
Everyone exchanged glances, confusion clear in their eyes.
Why did the second scene of the movie take place here?
At the same time, inside the library—
Su Cheng glanced behind him.
Compared to when they had just entered, even though only a few minutes had passed, everything had changed drastically.
The lights flickered and buzzed, dark puddles on the floor spread wider and wider, shadowy figures swayed within them.
Decay-like spots began appearing on the walls and floors.
The air reeked increasingly of rot.
All the students still stood frozen, as if time itself had stopped— like a still frame from a movie.
Beside him, the scar-faced man waited anxiously.
“Hey, what’re you gonna do? We’re out of time!”
After a short moment of thought, Su Cheng made his decision.
He looked at the scar-faced man and said:
“Let’s go.”
The man exhaled in relief and waved him over:
“Quick, this way!”
Then he turned and ran.
Su Cheng and the others followed closely.
Yun Bilan narrowed her eyes at the man’s back, a hint of suspicion flashing across her face.
She lowered her voice so he couldn’t hear and said to Su Cheng:
“I don’t trust him.”
Judging by his performance during the last film class, this guy clearly wasn’t one of those seasoned top-tier nightmare anchors.
If she had to guess, his rank wouldn’t be higher than a B.
But their own team had two top ten anchors, plus multiple A- to S-rank anchors.
Even if this was an open-world instance and their groups had entered different branches, the strength gap was still far too large.
Not to mention—
Wen Jianyan had already shattered the instance’s constraints,
completing the “homework” right after the first class ended.
Based on comments in the chat, this level of progress was unprecedented in this instance.
So how could someone of this scar-faced man’s level already have bargaining-level information on Richard when even they were still clueless?
Su Cheng didn’t break eye contact with the path ahead.
He replied quietly:
“I know.”
But…
He had other plans in mind.
After those few brief words, the two fell silent.
Tian Ye glanced between them, opened his mouth to speak—
Then quickly shut it again, swallowing all his questions.
Forget it…
This was a conversation between big shots.
Best not to get involved.
The group hurried forward.
Behind them, a small rusted metal plate was nailed to the wall of the library.
The rust had grown deeper with time, but if you squinted, you could just barely make out two characters:
“North Wing.”
Below, two massive doors hung crooked and ajar, revealing the darkness within.
Richard’s figure was completely gone now.
The floor and walls were covered in wet, moldy patches that stank of decay and filth.
Water dripped everywhere.
“Clack, clack, clack…”
A strange sound of bones grinding echoed in the silence.
The frozen students—
Who had stood still like statues—
slowly began to turn their stiff necks.
One by one, they twisted unnaturally.
Their bodies didn’t move, but their heads rotated a full 180 degrees.
Pale, swollen faces stared straight at the exit, blank and emotionless.
If Wen Jianyan had been there, he would’ve immediately recognized those waterlogged, bloated faces and those black, pupil-less, eerie eyes.
They looked exactly like the monsters he had encountered during his “homework” the other night.
Led by the scar-faced anchor, Su Cheng and his group quickly navigated through several sections of the library until they reached the far west end—
The periodicals section.
Perhaps because of the section’s focus, there was no one else around.
Suddenly, a few figures emerged slowly from behind a nearby bookshelf.
Su Cheng and the others stopped immediately, clearly preparing for a potential confrontation.
The scar-faced man quickly explained:
“They’re my teammates!”
Su Cheng didn’t move.
His gaze swept over the newcomers’ faces—
Sure enough, they were the same ones who had acted alongside the scar-faced man during the last class.
He nodded, but didn’t move any closer.
“I think we’re far enough from the danger zone now,” Su Cheng got straight to the point. “So let’s stop beating around the bush.”
“But…”
The scar-faced man glanced nervously in the direction they came from, clearly still wary and wanting to go even farther. But seeing that Su Cheng’s group stood firm, he finally sighed and gave in. “Fine.”
He wiped his face, as if trying to sober himself up a bit.
“You’ve probably noticed it too… This movie is different from the last one.”
Su Cheng said nothing—just waited for him to go on.
“In the last film, most of the time we were just following the plot. As long as we stayed inside the storyline, we were safe. But the problem is… sometimes the plot gets interrupted—and that’s when the danger hits.”
The scar-faced man visibly shuddered.
“The disappearance of the protagonist is the warning sign.”
Whenever the main character vanishes mid-plot, it means the storyline has been forcefully interrupted and danger is about to arrive.
“Wait… just now—”
Tian Ye started.
“Exactly,” Scarface nodded grimly. “That’s why I wanted you all to leave quickly.”
He looked back again, still anxious.
“I just don’t know if ‘it’ will follow… or when.”
Su Cheng suddenly interrupted:
“You said you have intel about Richard. What is it?”
Scarface froze, glancing instinctively toward him.
The man in front of him had pale skin and mid-length hair.
He looked like a gentle scholar—refined, mild-mannered.
But that calm appearance belied a directness and overwhelming pressure.
He was clearly shorter than Scarface, yet gave off an inexplicable dominance.
Scarface’s lips parted twice before he finally managed a weak reply:
“But you haven’t agreed—”
“No intel, no deal,” Su Cheng said, staring straight at him with pitch-black eyes that were unnervingly intense.
“Don’t forget—you’re the one asking us for help. We don’t need your intel.”
In other words—if your information isn’t valuable, don’t expect any goodwill.
“Even if we agreed to help, what could you do if we changed our minds?” Yun Bilan narrowed her eyes with a mocking smile. Crimson vine-like marks twisted across her face like madness. “It’s not like you have any choice.”
“You—”
A beautiful female anchor behind Scarface stepped forward, clearly angered and ready to argue.
But Scarface’s expression darkened and he raised a hand to stop her.
“Wait.”
“But—”
She still looked indignant, but he shook his head to silence her.
“They’re right.”
Grinding out the words, Scarface slowly looked at the trio in front of him.
Ever since he was manhandled by the smallest member of their team during the last class, he had realized something:
—This team’s overall strength was far beyond what he could have imagined.
Even separated, they’d moved on with no intel—a clear sign of confidence and strength.
Not to mention…
…he had his own reasons.
All in all, what they’d said wasn’t wrong.
They had leverage. He didn’t.
He was the one asking for help.
He had to show sincerity first.
Backlit by the sunlight, Su Cheng said politely, “Go ahead.”
Scarface took a deep breath.
“First of all,” he said, “the way to clear this movie class is by completing the homework. When you start writing, you return to the movie scene—but there’s no more plot, only pure danger. Writing the homework consumes HP. The more you write, the more hate you draw from the monsters.”
He’d expected that information to impress them.
But to his surprise, the three before him didn’t look the least bit shocked.
“?”
Scarface blinked, confused.
In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:
[LOL, little did he know—Wen Jianyan already figured this out and even hit 100% completion!]
[I’m dying Lol.]
[This is the first time I’ve really felt the difference between normal and top-tier anchors—what a gap!]
Scarface shook off his confusion and continued, “Ahem, anyway… I haven’t fully completed the homework, but I’ve made a lot of progress—almost 80%. I’ve noticed that all of Richard’s behavior seems heavily connected to the gym…”
“…”
Still no reaction from the three.
Live room barrage:
[That’s it? That’s it?? THAT’S IT?!]
[God… they’ve already wrapped up that and moved on to the next movie!]
[Su Cheng: Can you give us something new, please?]
Su Cheng and Yun Bilan exchanged glances.
If this was all the progress Scarface had made, then their earlier assumptions might be invalid.
Su Cheng looked back at him, expression unchanged—masking any hint of disappointment.
He asked calmly:
“Is that all?”
Scarface’s eyes flicked across their faces, growing more uneasy.
They hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t reacted.
He realized—
This intel wasn’t enough.
After a long pause, he gritted his teeth, seemingly making a big decision.
“…There’s more.”
He stepped forward and lowered his voice:
“Richard… was the last one to die.”
“…!”
Su Cheng’s gaze sharpened, locking onto him.
Was this true?
They couldn’t verify it.
Nor could they confirm where he got this information.
Still—
It was new.
“I can’t tell you my source. That’s my final line.”
Scarface said firmly, cutting off any follow-up questions.
“But I swear—any intel derived from that is real. I tested it myself.”
There was a strange ominous tone in his voice.
Yun Bilan lowered her gaze and asked coldly:
“You said you want us to help you—why?”
Scarface froze.
Then, with pain in his expression, he wiped a hand across his face.
“…Because I can see Richard.”
“See Richard?” Su Cheng echoed slowly.
Scarface turned his head slightly—his eyes locked on some invisible spot in the distance.
A shadow flashed across the edge of his vision.
He shuddered.
A wet, dark figure was standing not far away, back turned toward him.
And it was slowly—steadily—getting closer.
Outside the cafeteria.
The group stood panting, confused.
None of them had expected the next location to be the cafeteria.
“Hey!” Orange Candy turned to Suo Suo. “What’s going on?”
After what happened in the bathroom—and seeing Orange Candy break the crisis wide open—
Suo Suo had fully realized this sweet-looking girl was an absolute powerhouse.
Called by name, he rushed over, eager to please. “What?!”
“I said… what the hell is going on?” Orange Candy raised an eyebrow. “You never mentioned this scene!”
Suo Suo had only described two settings: the library and the gym.
But since entering this second class, neither had appeared.
If the dormitory earlier was at least familiar…
Then this cafeteria—was entirely new.
“Uh…”
Suo Suo looked around blankly, clearly at a loss.
Even though it was supposed to be the same movie,
nothing now seemed familiar except for the protagonist.
Wen Jianyan listened to them talk as he stepped forward a few paces.
He studied the cafeteria before him.
It looked like midday.
The sun was glaring.
The cafeteria was packed with college students coming and going.
This scene—what was its purpose?
Wen Jianyan frowned, deep in thought.
The sunlight glinted off his pale skin, casting sharp shadows across his face.
He was tall—standing out clearly among the crowd.
Just then, a stranger’s voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts:
“Uh… excuse me?”
Wen Jianyan turned, surprised.
It was a young male college student.
He looked at Wen Jianyan, quickly glanced away, then shyly asked:
“…Can I get your number?”
Wen Jianyan: “?”
All the other anchors present: “???”
In the “Integrity First” live room barrage:
[???]
