I’m a Girl, He’s a Psycho, and This is Fine

Later that night, as Shi Mo lay on the floor of Room 415 with a pillow under her head, she couldn't sleep.

The events of the day replayed in her mind.

The ghost.

The way Fu Yunshen had spoken to her.

The Gu worm, still restless, whispered inside her:

"He's powerful. You should claim him."

"He's not yours. Make him yours."

She covered her ears and whispered, "Shut up."

Fu Yunshen, from the bed, stirred.

"You talk in your sleep," he said.

Shi Mo froze. "You were awake?"

He didn't respond.

But she heard the faintest hint of amusement in his voice as he turned over.

The next day, Zhou Zhi insisted on skipping class.

"After what happened yesterday? I need to recover. I'm still spiritually traumatized."

Shi Mo rolled her eyes. "You just don't want to take the math test."

"Exactly," Zhou Zhi said without shame.

Fu Yunshen leaned against the railing in front of the classroom, his arms crossed.

"We still have to go back," he said suddenly.

Shi Mo turned. "To the equipment room?"

He nodded.

Zhou Zhi's jaw dropped. "Why would we ever go back there?!"

"Because if we don't help her move on, she'll keep coming back."

Fu Yunshen met Shi Mo's eyes. "You can feel it too, can't you? She's not just haunting the room. She's trapped there."

Shi Mo nodded slowly.

The Gu worm inside her agreed.

There was unfinished business in that room.

Something binding the spirit.

Something that had to be broken.

That night, the three of them returned to the equipment room.

Shi Mo brought talismans and a red string tied with silver bells—items her grandfather had once given her. She also carried a pair of worn, red shoes she had found among the discarded belongings in the storage room.

"This is where she died," Fu Yunshen said, standing in the center of the space.

He closed his eyes. "She's here now."

Shi Mo placed the red shoes carefully in the center of the room and lit incense at each corner.

The air grew heavy.

Zhou Zhi was trembling. "Why is it always us?"

"Because we're the only ones who can do anything about it," Shi Mo said.

She began chanting under her breath in Miao.

A low sobbing filled the air.

Then the ghost appeared.

She stood in the center of the room, barefoot, hair draped over her face. Her red skirt was soaked in spectral blood, her hands limp at her sides.

Fu Yunshen stepped forward. "What's your name?"

The ghost didn't answer—but the sobbing grew louder.

Shi Mo gently stepped toward her, holding the shoes.

"These… are yours, right?"

The ghost twitched.

She slowly lifted her head.

Shi Mo saw her face clearly for the first time—young, no older than seventeen. Pale. Beautiful. And full of sorrow.

"You were waiting for someone, weren't you?" Shi Mo asked softly. "But they never came."

Tears fell from the ghost's empty eyes.

"I'm sorry," Shi Mo whispered. "But you've waited long enough."

She knelt and placed the shoes before her.

"Put them on," she said.

The ghost stared at them.

Then, slowly, she moved forward.

As her bare feet slipped into the shoes, her form began to shimmer.

The oppressive energy in the room began to lift.

Her body glowed faintly, rising inch by inch—until she disappeared entirely, a single teardrop falling to the ground.

Silence returned.

And peace.

Outside, the three stood in the quiet darkness.

Shi Mo exhaled. "She's gone."

Fu Yunshen nodded. "She just wanted someone to see her. To remember her."

Zhou Zhi scratched his head. "Still creepy as hell."

The system chimed in Shi Mo's ear.

Brotherhood Value: 145 / 1,000,000

Better.

Still slow—but better.

Back in Room 415, Fu Yunshen tossed Shi Mo a bottle of water.

"You did good," he said simply.

Shi Mo caught it and smiled faintly. "You too."

Fu Yunshen leaned back on his bed, arms crossed behind his head. "You know… you're not as annoying as I thought."

Shi Mo rolled her eyes. "High praise."

He smirked.

For the first time, it felt like they were truly on the same side.

And Shi Mo knew:

This was only the beginning.