Chapter Sixty-One: Chen Qing's Return and the Uncanny

The return to campus was supposed to make everything better—a tranquil life, a peaceful school, and distance from blood and the uncanny.

At least, that’s what he believed until he realized nothing in his life had changed.

Behind desks stacked with others’ clutter and books, in corners thick with dust and cobwebs, Chen Qing’s phone rang as usual with a message from the homeroom teacher.

He glanced at his phone, his lips twitching subconsciously.

“Your presence here is barely noticeable.” Beside him, Bu Zhaozhao’s voice drifted into Chen Qing’s ear.

She hadn’t revealed herself; her voice simply appeared in his mind. According to her, this was called being a “guardian spirit.”

“I haven’t been here for half a semester, so it’s normal,” he replied boldly, shaking his head. His words were drowned out by the teacher’s voice at the podium.

“Besides, everyone I used to know is gone, and their memories have been altered. Honestly, it’s a miracle if anyone in this class still remembers me.”

Chen Qing muttered softly, recounting his first encounter with the uncanny and the Back Rooms to Bu Zhaozhao.

“That incident with the Back Rooms was probably connected to your Foundation, wasn’t it?”

He rifled through the books on his desk, coming across names he hadn’t seen in ages. Sighing, he pulled two volumes at random and set them before him.

“Based on your account, it doesn’t sound like anything our Foundation would orchestrate.”

“Oh?” Chen Qing sounded surprised.

“No organizational structure, no mass mobilization—these don’t fit the Foundation’s usual methods. At least, not in my day.

If you ask me, it’s more reminiscent of the Divine Grace Church’s style.”

“Why?”

The bell rang for the end of class, but none of the students rose from their seats.

“The Foundation prefers to use manpower and resources to cleanse the Back Rooms. If the investigators had been from the Foundation, your school would’ve been purchased and everyone expelled by the next day.

Simply put, they would never let any anomalous objects escape.

But the Divine Grace Church is different. They relish letting mortals venture into the Back Rooms and watching them perish inside.

For them, dying under the gaze of the divine is an honor; receiving divine favor through the Back Rooms is, too.”

“I see…” He fell silent for a moment, finding this matched his past experiences.

“By the way.”

“Hmm?”

“When do you plan to buy a house?”

“Isn’t where I am now good enough?”

“Are you kidding?” Bu Zhaozhao’s voice sounded disdainful. “You don’t even have a proper lab. And you lack secure containment devices—do you plan to carry all the anomalous objects with you forever?”

Chen Qing frowned, “Did you leave behind any gold bars or inheritance from before? Share some with me.”

Bu Zhaozhao’s voice faded for a long while. When he was certain there’d be no answer, Chen Qing sighed.

“Looks like I’ll have to visit the old house…”

He muttered under his breath as the noise of students after class filled his ears—the teacher who’d run overtime finally left, and students streamed toward the restrooms.

“How wonderful. Days so peaceful and quiet.”

He lay his head on the desk, ready to drift into sleep, when a figure appeared at the classroom door.

---

The moment that figure stepped in, Chen Qing’s brow twitched sharply.

“Oh, dear…”

He watched Jiang Wan enter, her presence drawing the gaze of countless students as she hurried toward the corner where Chen Qing sat, her expression worried.

“Come with me, now!”

Seeing Chen Qing’s bored demeanor, she didn’t bother with pretense, grabbing his wrist and urging him forward: “Do you realize what time it is? And you’re still thinking about sleeping?!”

He let himself be led by Jiang Wan, passing every student in the classroom, then down the hallway in front of the others.

“Hey… the police are here to arrest someone…”

“That can’t be it… they haven’t cuffed him.”

“You don’t get it, maybe the guy’s two-timing and his police girlfriend found out? Ha ha.”

“I think it’s more likely he got caught cheating on an exam.”

Everywhere Chen Qing passed, students whispered and speculated.

---

In the faculty office, several teachers frowned deeply as they watched Chen Qing being taken away, their eyes betraying irritation.

“What is this? A senior student who never studies, always following that…” One teacher hesitated, swallowing his description, “…messing around everywhere.”

“Exactly. Chen Qing was a promising student… If he’d applied himself, maybe he could’ve scored well on the college entrance exam.”

His homeroom teacher frowned, suddenly remembering something, and adjusted the phone’s auto-message settings.

“No choice…” Hearing the others’ complaints, the dean gave a wry smile and shook his head. “This investigative order came from the city and was passed down to our principal—no one can override it. I heard the case is a big deal… Let him go, it’ll only be a week at most.”

He muttered, not noticing that the homeroom teacher’s face darkened further.

A week? A whole semester!

That kid hasn’t been at school for half a semester!

Grumbling, he finally accepted reality and returned to his seat.

---

In the police car at the school gate, Chen Qing deftly pulled out two bags of chips from the back and began munching. “What’s going on? Why did you suddenly come to find me at school? Didn’t you say you’d report back today and nothing else would happen for a while?”

Jiang Wan’s forehead glistened with sweat, her face pale and her dark circles pronounced.

“That was two days ago!” Jiang Wan paused, then continued, “After I reported back, something extremely serious happened at the precinct.

Or rather… the trouble began the day I returned.”

He eyed Jiang Wan’s obvious dark circles, curious, “You haven’t slept in two days?”

She shook her head. “I rested a bit, but I didn’t dare sleep.” Turning to ensure no one was nearby, she hit the siren and sped toward the police station.

“What happened?” Seeing her grave expression, Chen Qing put down his snacks.

“You remember I went back to report in, right?”

He nodded.

“That was two days ago…” She gazed ahead, murmuring as she recalled.

---

Two days before, after parting from Chen Qing, Jiang Wan returned to the precinct to report in. For ordinary cases, or for a normal disappearance—being absent from work for two days would have meant severe punishment for Jiang Wan.

---

In such cases, even a demotion wouldn’t be out of the question, which delighted her jealous colleagues.

But, to their surprise, after Jiang Wan spent the night talking with several supervisors, none of the anticipated punishments fell upon her.

In the end, the only penalty was the deduction of her monthly performance bonus—a slap on the wrist, considering three days’ absence was more or less worth that money.

This infuriated Qi Botao and his clique, but when they complained to the review department, they were told she had been on a secret mission, making the penalty reasonable.

Still dissatisfied, they returned to the station and saw Jiang Wan hurriedly compiling the event records and reports for the previous incident, and a wicked idea took root.

After Jiang Wan finished her records and reports in the early hours, she placed the files on her desk and went home to sleep for an entire day.

The next day, still groggy, Jiang Wan was awakened by a stern phone call questioning her about the contents of her report.

At that moment, she was still confused.

But half an hour later, when she rushed back to the station and saw Qi Botao’s corpse spinning on the lobby ceiling fan, she froze.

Then she heard the same question again.

“What did you write in your report file?!”

She looked up in disbelief, seeing her direct supervisor’s fingers trembling uncontrollably.

Then came the words that would haunt her for life: “That night, the three people who secretly read your report all committed suicide.”

---

Jiang Wan glanced at Chen Qing, her smile tinged with guilt. “I never imagined that file would…”

“So this happened yesterday—why did you only come to me today?” Chen Qing frowned, clearly puzzled.

She shook her head and sighed, “After returning to the precinct yesterday, they kept investigating me. But with something this uncanny, something supernatural, what could they possibly find?

Eventually, my direct supervisor stepped in to vouch for me, which is why I could come to ask for your help.”

Chen Qing understood, clapping his hands before replying, “So you’re out of options and now you’re looking for a civilian to help out, right?”

She gave a wry smile and nodded helplessly.

---

Half an hour later, at the city police station entrance.

Several layers of police tape sealed the area tightly.

Jiang Wan lifted a corner of the tape. As the sentry officers approached, she produced a file from her arms.

“Jiang Wan, this is Chen Qing, here to assist with the investigation. He has the paperwork.”

She glanced back at Chen Qing, who was scanning his surroundings, and added, “He’s officially authorized.”

Hearing this, the officers lingered their gaze on Chen Qing before turning away to resume their post.

The two walked in together, and after climbing the stairs, as soon as they pushed open the police station doors, Chen Qing’s expression tightened.

“Wow. Tomato meets tomato—blood everywhere.”

He looked around at the room coated in blood; jets of crimson stained the ceiling, splatters covered every inch of the floor, and the blood thrown about formed an uncanny beauty, resembling a massive, swirling vortex.