Chapter Sixty-Two: Look at Me!
The Old Principal, originally named Zhang Dahai, had killed a whole bunch of people. Back in the day, this stirred up quite the media frenzy, but thanks to his status, quick wits, and past experience as a cop, he managed to dodge any scrutiny.
He was dubbed the “Ghost Child” by the public because the targets of his killings were predominantly families with parents who were absolute scumbags. Most of those parents had done horrendous things that made anyone who heard about it think, “These folks deserve to be flayed alive.”
Take one example: a couple who were so addicted to gambling that they wracked up a mountain of debt. Instead of seeing the light, they took a detour to Crazytown by breaking their child’s arms and legs and tossing them onto the street to beg for cash to settle their debts.
This is why many believed Zhang Dahai was a “hitman” working on behalf of these poor kids.
Countless people fell victim to him, and naturally, many neglected kids ended up at his orphanage through his business connections and police contacts. Initially, he thought he could give these kids a new lease on life.
But then, he changed. These kids became his tools—for m*rder, gathering intel, or just as an outlet for his twisted desires.
Shen Shuyun, who had been with him for a while, soon realized that it wasn’t that he transformed, but rather that his true self had begun to show.
This guy had a seriously warped mindset; he believed these kids were indebted to him for his “great grace,” so they should be doing his bidding. Because of his childhood trauma and a penchant for copper smelting, he also took pleasure in hurting these kids to satisfy his own twisted needs.
So, unfortunately, rather than improving their lives, these children entered yet another hell. To make matters worse, the collective shift in their mentality due to his influence turned a bunch of blank-slate kids into a pack of little rascals.
This was entirely opposite to Zhang Dahai’s original intentions; he just didn’t notice.
To take him down, Shen Shuyun decided to use her childhood skill: communicating with ghosts.
She visited all the crime scenes and gathered all the ghosts lingering there.
While hiding on him, the ghosts whispered in her ears constantly.
Most of the deceased had their own issues; there were very few innocent lives lost. The early victims, while not exactly saints, certainly weren’t the best folks either. After mixing with this massive crowd of ghosts for a whole year, it was a miracle Shen Shuyun hadn’t gone mad.
In the end, she used these ghosts to eliminate Zhang Dahai and all the children he had taken in.
A total of one hundred thirty-eight lives snuffed out.
Among them were the kids she’d burned alive in the dormitory—talk about tragic!
She killed those little rascals on purpose; they too needed redemption.
And the reason she went to such lengths to gather all those ghosts was directly tied to those little hoodlums.
From Shen Shuyun and Zhang Dahai’s conversations, Bai Yu pieced everything together. She didn’t want to comment much, just knew Shen Shuyun was also a bit of a lunatic. If she guessed correctly, this gal had set those ghosts loose on each other’s kids.
Now it all made sense why she ended up in the sc*m Game.
Killing that many children seemed to check all the boxes for the game’s requirements.
“If I hadn’t done this, they’d still be like that,” Zhang Dahai lay there in his usual pose, “At least I let them experience a whole new life, didn’t I?”
“Well, if I brought those little ghosts from outside and tossed them in front of you, would you still say that?”
Shen Shuyun squinted, and sure enough, as soon as she said it, Zhang Dahai fell silent.
He knew very well what the situation was with the kids at school; he just didn’t want to confront it.
While he was silent, Shen Shuyun suddenly changed her tune, “No need! If I managed to k*ll them once, I can do it again, and this time I’ll make sure they truly find peace.”
“Absolutely not!”
“Regretting it, huh? No worries, you won’t see it coming. I’ll take you out before I get to them.”
With that, a dagger pierced Zhang Dahai’s heart, but such an attack barely phased him.
Bai Yu kicked Shen Shuyun aside, bl**d threads bursting forth to consume Zhang Dahai’s body.
At that point, Zhang Dahai finally felt pain—the kind of unbearable, piercing agony.
A bl**d-curdling wail erupted on the second floor of the canteen.
Before long, Zhang Dahai was dead, completely merged with Bai Yu.
Leaning against the wall, Shen Shuyun watched the whole scene and suddenly burst into manic laughter.
Bai Yu was clueless about what she gleaned from her “catching up” with Zhang Dahai, or if she even found the answers she sought.
But it looked like Shen Shuyun found what she was looking for.
Bai Yu contemplated what such a straightforward act meant to Shen Shuyun.
Was her way of regaining memories just chatting with Zhang Dahai?
She couldn’t read Shen Shuyun’s mind.
The only thing she knew for sure was that the quest for answers didn’t need to be all that dramatic—just impactful enough would suffice.
Lu Liangting was still standing by the door, his gaze shifting from Shen Shuyun to Bai Yu. He seemed to understand something yet also nothing at all.
Shen Shuyun came here with him, and apparently, this place was very significant to her. It seemed like the girl in the white dress was here to help, and they must have known each other before.
For some inexplicable reason, he felt a pang of emptiness inside.
All of this, regardless of the outcome, reflected one simple truth: the girl in white didn’t show up because of him. Her saving him was merely a matter of chance.
But that was fine; even if it was just a coincidence, it was still saving him.
If it hadn’t been for her, he’d be doomed—much worse than that time at Sunshine Apartments.
Lu Liangting took a deep breath, stepped forward, and extended a hand towards Bai Yu.
“Thanks a ton this time! I always meant to thank you back at Sunshine Apartments; just never had the chance. By the way, I’m Lu Liangting.”
Bai Yu glanced at him but immediately turned her head away, showing zero intention of shaking his hand.
His hand lingered awkwardly in mid-air for a moment before he sheepishly retracted it, scratching his head.
Was it just him, or did Bai Yu seem to harbor some suspicion and hostility toward him? He hadn’t done anything wrong!
There was still more to come that night.
