Chapter 13

Speechless

Wan You lay on the ground for a good thirty seconds. No NPC came to help him up.

"Do you need us to call the campus doctor?"

He looked up at the student who'd spoken. The young man was wearing a clean, neatly pressed white shirt, a host's lanyard on his chest, and had the kind of face that stirred an instinctive discomfort in Wan You — too symmetrical, too effortlessly attractive.

The student's gaze was calm and completely still. Behind him, the five other NPCs were watching too.

But it wasn't the gaze of someone whose reason had been undone by beauty. It was closer to how the top scorer in a provincial exam looks at the person who came last: a composed superiority, carefully restrained, with a small allowance of tolerant pity for the weaker party.

Wan You had long since grown accustomed to NPCs falling over themselves to please him, losing all composure in their fascination. This kind of gaze only produced one thing in him: seething irritation.

Chao Musheng walked over, bent slightly at the waist, and extended a hand. "The campus medical center is nearby. I can take you."

"No need. I'm fine." Wan You sidestepped the hand and got up from the floor on his own. He tilted his chin up by reflex — instinct from a lifetime of angling his neck to display its elegance — and said, "Please continue."

The campus medical center in a school instance was usually where accidents piled up, and this instance's NPCs clearly weren't sufficiently fascinated by him. He couldn't afford to go anywhere alone.

"Then let's carry on. If you feel unwell at any point, please let us know immediately." Finding the student apparently mobile and uninjured, the host stepped back around without any lingering concern and resumed walking. Not a moment's hesitation. "If you'll all look to the right — this is Qingyue Lake, built over eight hundred years ago, and the oldest surviving man-made lake among all of China's university campuses..."

Neither the students leading the group nor the random students they passed on the path let their attention rest on Wan You for a single moment.

Wan You walked in the middle of the player group, watching one student after another greet the hosts with genuine warmth, and felt a creeping unease. Why was no one looking at him?

Impossible. His universal charm aura had worked on full-rank bosses in instances. How could ordinary background characters be immune to it?

Was this instance somehow abnormal, or was the Main God deliberately targeting him?

*

"The dormitory building ahead — Building 4 — is where you'll all be staying for the next ten days." The senior biology student leading the tour had taken point on the whole hosting operation; Chao Musheng, the youngest of the six hosts, had been playing a supportive role throughout. "The accommodation is modest, but just behind the building is the famous Swan Lake. If you wake up early enough in the morning, you might catch the swans dancing."

The senior's words were humble enough, but his eyes were unmistakably proud.

Their school's accommodation was famous nationwide. Everyone who'd seen it went home envious.

Noticing that the visiting students' faces had taken on a collectively grave expression — as though they suspected Jinghua University of planning to house them in a broom closet — the senior's polished smile dropped approximately two pixels.

Could they not tell that was self-deprecation?

Terribly rude.

The players stared up at the large red number "4" hanging above the dormitory entrance and struggled to smile.

One look at the building number and you knew it was a high-incident zone.

"Female students in Unit 1, male students in Unit 2." The senior turned to Chao Musheng and one of the female third-year hosts. "Could you two take them up and sort out the room assignments? We'll meet downstairs in half an hour."

"Of course." Chao Musheng collected the room keys from the dormitory supervisor and led the male students toward the Unit 2 elevator.

While waiting for the elevator, he added, helpfully, "We can take the elevator today. That said, I'd generally suggest taking the stairs if you're not in a rush."

The players clocked which floor he'd pressed. Fourth.

Building 4. Level 4. This instance really did not want them alive.

Though this NPC seemed oddly decent — going out of his way to warn them about the elevator.

"Why can't we normally take the elevator?" one of the players, who had a round, youthful face, asked cautiously. "Did something happen in this one?"

"Not at all." The fourth floor arrived. Chao Musheng held the door-open button and waited for everyone to exit before stepping out himself. "It's just that right now it's class time, so there aren't many students waiting. Once your schedule starts tomorrow and you're moving with the general flow of classes, getting a spot in the elevator is going to be very competitive."

The building was only four floors. Queuing for a lift was slower than just walking up.

The players: "..."

...Oh.

That was it?

"The school has assigned you rooms 404 and 402." Chao Musheng unlocked the two adjacent rooms. Both were spotlessly clean, with fresh bedding sets laid out on each bed.

"Eight of you — four to a room." He opened the windows to air them out. "Lights-out is midnight on most nights, except Friday and Saturday, so try to finish washing up before then. If anything comes up, message us in the group chat and we'll contact the school to help you sort it out."

"Thank you." The baby-faced player flashed Chao Musheng an ingratiating smile. "I'm Zhang San. This is my first time visiting somewhere this prestigious — I'm not sure what other rules your dormitory has. Would you mind walking us through them?"

"There's nothing particularly unusual. You've all been recommended here by your universities as outstanding students — just behave the way you would at your own schools." Chao Musheng handed out the university information booklets the dormitory supervisor had given him, one for each person. "I hope we all have a good ten days together — learning from each other, growing together."

The players were mildly deflated. The NPC was pleasant to look at and pleasant to talk to, but apparently not willing to let anything useful slip.

"Hey." Wan You drifted to the window, eyes shimmering with a delicate moisture — the precise intersection of tearful and aggrieved. "I don't know how to make a bed. Could you maybe help me?"

"My surname's Chao — just call me Xiao Chao." Chao Musheng tapped at his phone, pulled up a search, and handed it to Wan You.

Every player in the room heard what was playing.

"Hey everyone! Today I'm going to show you the easiest way to put on a fitted sheet — super simple, even a primary schooler can do it. Come follow along!"

Players: "..."

There was an indescribable awkwardness in the air.

The smile on Wan You's face locked up. The sheen of tears retreated, forcibly suppressed. "Thank you, Xiao Chao."

"No problem." Chao Musheng shared the video to the group chat. "Take some time to settle in. We'll meet downstairs in twenty minutes."

"We'll be there on time, Xiao Chao, don't worry."

The players saw Chao Musheng off, then turned to regard each other with mutual wariness. Nobody spoke first.

Wan You kicked the mattress twice, expression dark.

The other players paid his silent tantrum no mind. If anything, they felt a flicker of relief that this NPC was immune to Wan You's charm.

They were all instance runners. Every point and item they had was earned through near-death experiences. Nobody had any patience for an opponent whose entire strategy was riding the goodwill of bosses.

"From here, everyone's on their own." The most wholesome-looking player in the group broke the silence. "I'll take room 404."

Nobody else had wanted 404. The fact that someone was walking in there voluntarily drew a few downward glances.

Zhang San looked at the others who had stayed quiet and let out a contemptuous laugh. "With that little nerve, you think you're going to clear an instance?" He turned and followed into 404.

*

"Shang-bro." Zhang San walked into 404 to find the man already making his bed. He moved close and lowered his voice. "I've had a good look around. There are electronic cameras in the corridors and the elevator."

Shang-bro's expression was serious. "This instance is different from anything we've been in before."

"I checked our affinity ratings with the NPC hosts just now using an item," Zhang San murmured. "Their starting affinity toward all of us is 25. The player who did the staged fall was unlucky — his dropped from 25 to 22."

"Though the one surnamed Chao is a bit odd." Zhang San dropped his voice as low as it would go. "He has no affinity rating."

Shang-bro's hands stilled on the bedsheet. "What do you mean?"

"I can't see any data for him at all — toward any of us." Zhang San shook his head. "He might just be an unimportant background NPC. A few of the students who walked past us earlier didn't show readings either."

By all previous experience, any NPC who had made contact with players should have a corresponding data readout. He genuinely didn't understand why there were exceptions.

"We keep watching." Shang-bro finished spreading the sheet and folded the duvet into a neat, precise rectangle. "Don't do anything rash."

"I know. Relax."

*

"Musheng, come have a popsicle." The senior spotted Chao Musheng coming downstairs and held one out to him. "I honestly don't know what criteria those schools use to select students. The caliber of people they've sent us to host."

His disdain was comprehensively embedded in every syllable.

Chao Musheng accepted the popsicle. "Thank you, senior."

"When I was taking the girls up just now, one of them pulled out a bottle of perfume with a weird smell and started spraying it everywhere without a word of explanation." The third-year female host looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. "Then she asked if the school had any long-standing horror stories."

What kind of behavior was that?

They had a rare chance to visit one of the country's top research universities — the cutting-edge labs, the rare archive holdings in the library — and this person's first priority was asking about ghost stories.

Did she think Jinghua University was the origin point of some supernatural anthology? A campus haunting collection?

"Musheng — I saw you share a bed-making tutorial in the group chat earlier." The senior frowned. "What happened?"

"Someone didn't know how to put on a fitted sheet and wanted me to help." Chao Musheng unwrapped his popsicle. "So I provided what assistance I could."

"Was it the one who tripped on flat ground?" The female host's mind went immediately to Wan You.

Chao Musheng nodded quietly.

The hosts: "..."

No wonder the school was routing an internal referral through the students handling this visit. They'd been sent an entire collection of eccentrics.

Zhang San and Shang-bro had just reached the doorway when they watched the NPCs' affinity ratings toward them slip from 25 to 24.

These NPCs dropped affinity without the slightest provocation — could they have no basic standards?

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Shang-bro gave the six hosts a slight, measured nod, and he and Zhang San moved to stand quietly to one side.

"You're fifteen minutes early — the meeting time hasn't come yet." Noticing that the visiting students had come down, Chao Musheng quickly finished what remained of his popsicle.

One of the female hosts handed him a napkin. Good-looking people made everything look appealing — even the act of finishing a popsicle quickly.

Shang-bro observed the six hosts without making it obvious. His gaze settled, finally, on Chao Musheng. The one doing most of the talking was the tall, bespectacled student — but Shang-bro had the persistent sense that the other five were keeping an eye on this one who called himself Xiao Chao.

With five minutes to go, everyone had assembled downstairs.

"Now," the senior said, "we'll take you to visit Biology Laboratory Number One."

When the players arrived at the laboratory, they found it advanced enough to make them genuinely uneasy.

Where were the ominous skulls?

Where was the ramshackle storage room?

Where were the specimens in their unnervingly colored jars?

Why was every surface occupied by instruments with more buttons than the players had IQ points?

"Three years ago, one of our biology professors used this very machine to make a new discovery." The senior handed out gloves and lab coats. "Would you like to try?"

Players: Us?

We don't know how to use any of this.

Faced with the visiting students' round-robin display of silent mutual deferral — nobody willing to step forward and engage with the instrument that held near-sacred status in the biology department — the senior's smile cooled noticeably.

Philistines. Every last one of them.