The Riverfall County Academy stood on the western edge of the city.
Beyond its sturdy stone walls stretched the quiet road leading toward the West Gate, while behind the academy rose the dark silhouette of Black Turtle Hill, its forested slopes barely visible beneath the dim glow of moonlight.
The academy itself carried an air of solemn dignity.
White plaster walls framed rows of grey-tiled roofs, their curved edges catching faint strands of silver light. The buildings were orderly and austere—constructed not for luxury, but for discipline and learning.
Above the main entrance hung a large wooden plaque.
Four bold characters had been carved deep into its surface:
Cultivate the Self, Serve the Realm.
According to local records, the plaque had been gifted many years ago by a wandering sage who had helped rebuild the academy after a devastating spirit disaster.
Ever since then, townsfolk often claimed the plaque carried a faint blessing.
A quiet protection.
A reminder of moral duty.
Tonight, however…
Even such symbols offered little comfort.
---
Li Shen met the academy's head instructor just outside the gate.
The man was slightly overweight and dressed in formal scholar robes of deep blue silk. His hat sat crookedly on his head, as though it had been hastily adjusted.
His name was Zhou Ren, the principal instructor responsible for overseeing the academy's students, examinations, and ritual observances.
In simpler terms—
He was the academy's principal.
Yet the man standing before Li Shen looked nothing like a dignified educator.
His face had turned pale.
Beads of sweat clung to his forehead despite the cool night air.
And his hands trembled slightly as he spoke.
"You… you must be the spirit hunter they sent?" he asked, voice tight with anxiety.
Li Shen gave a small nod.
"I'm Li Shen of the Spirit Warden Bureau. I've come to investigate the disturbance."
The moment the name left his lips, recognition flashed across Zhou Ren's face.
"I've heard of you!" he said quickly, relief slipping into his tone. "Your name appears frequently in the Bureau's merit reports."
His voice still trembled, though now it carried a faint trace of hope.
Despite Li Shen's youthful appearance, Zhou Ren understood something important.
When it came to ghosts and spirits—
The young man standing calmly before him was likely the only person here capable of protecting the academy.
"Please… follow me," Zhou Ren said, swallowing nervously.
Li Shen inclined his head.
Together, they stepped through the academy gate.
---
The courtyard inside lay silent.
Stone pathways wound through the campus like pale veins beneath the moonlight, connecting darkened classrooms and quiet study halls.
Clusters of bamboo trees rustled softly in the night wind.
Their thin leaves whispered together, creating an eerie, restless murmur that seemed to drift through the empty grounds.
Just as they passed the first archway—
A shadow suddenly darted across the wall beside them.
Zhou Ren shrieked.
"Ghost!"
He stumbled backward in panic, nearly tripping over the stone step behind him.
Li Shen barely reacted.
He glanced lazily toward the wall.
"A cat," he said flatly.
Sure enough, a black cat had already slipped into the bushes, its tail disappearing between the leaves.
Zhou Ren's face flushed a deep shade of red.
"Ah… yes. Of course," he muttered awkwardly. "I knew that."
Li Shen didn't bother responding.
Inwardly, he gave the man a quiet label.
Highly prone to screaming.
---
They continued deeper into the academy grounds.
The deeper they walked, the heavier the silence became.
Zhou Ren's robe had already grown damp with cold sweat.
His eyes darted constantly between the dark windows and the empty walkways.
Then suddenly—
A sound drifted through the night.
Clear.
Steady.
Rhythmic.
The unmistakable sound of students reading aloud.
Zhou Ren froze mid-step.
"T-that's it!" he whispered hoarsely, grabbing Li Shen's sleeve. "That's the sound I heard earlier!"
The voices seemed to come from the northwest lecture building.
But instead of alarm, Li Shen merely tilted his head slightly.
"They're reciting classical texts," he said calmly.
Zhou Ren blinked.
"You… can tell?"
"Yes."
Li Shen listened for another moment.
"Though they misread two characters."
Zhou Ren stared at him as if he had just witnessed something profoundly unnatural.
Spirit hunters truly are strange people, he thought silently.
---
They soon arrived outside the lecture hall.
The wooden door creaked softly as Li Shen pushed it open.
Inside, the room lay shrouded in darkness.
Moonlight filtered faintly through the lattice windows, barely illuminating rows of wooden desks arranged in orderly lines.
The air smelled faintly of old paper and ink.
"Should I fetch a lantern?" Zhou Ren whispered.
"No need."
Li Shen reached into his sleeve and withdrew a small sheet of talisman paper.
With a charcoal stylus, he quickly traced several flowing runic symbols across its surface.
The strokes were smooth and practiced.
As the final line connected—
A faint pulse of spiritual energy gathered around the paper.
Within seconds, the talisman folded itself neatly, twisting and shaping until it formed the frame of a small lantern.
Then—
A soft crimson light bloomed from within.
The paper lantern floated gently upward, illuminating the lecture hall with a warm red glow.
Zhou Ren stared in stunned silence.
"I've seen spirit hunters before," he murmured in awe.
"But never anything like this…"
Li Shen gave a casual shrug.
"Basic technique."
---
Under the lantern's glow, several figures gradually became visible in the far corner of the room.
They sat quietly at wooden desks.
Each wore faded scholar robes.
Books rested in their hands.
Their heads swayed slowly as they read.
At first glance, they looked like diligent students studying late into the night.
Then the lantern's light revealed their faces.
Grey skin.
Sunken eyes.
Expressions drained of life.
Zhou Ren screamed again.
His knees buckled, and he nearly collapsed on the spot.
Li Shen sighed quietly.
The Screaming Scholar, he named the man in his mind.
---
The ghostly students slowly rose from their seats.
They walked toward Zhou Ren with measured steps.
Then, one by one—
They bowed respectfully.
"Greetings, Instructor Zhou."
"You've come to check our studies again…"
"We are grateful for your teachings."
One spirit lowered his head sadly.
"Instructor… I failed the provincial exam again this year."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you."
Another student spoke eagerly.
"I will definitely pass next time!"
"Please believe in me!"
Their voices were soft.
Earnest.
Almost hopeful.
Like ordinary students seeking approval from a teacher they respected.
Zhou Ren stared at them, horror filling his eyes.
His lips trembled.
"I… I know you," he whispered shakily.
"Wei Ming… Jiang Wen… He Liang…"
"You… you all died eight years ago."
"I attended your funerals myself."
Silence settled over the classroom.
The ghostly students slowly raised their heads.
Their empty eyes stared forward.
Books still clutched tightly in their pale hands.
Still studying.
Still waiting.
For an exam that would never come.
---
Li Shen watched the scene quietly.
A faint glimmer of understanding flickered in his eyes.
These weren't violent spirits.
They were lingering obsessions.
Souls bound by unfinished desires.
Students who had died before achieving the future they had worked so desperately toward.
So they remained.
Still studying.
Still preparing.
Still chasing an examination that the living world had long since moved past.
Li Shen sighed softly.
"Poor souls."
His hand slowly moved toward the talisman resting inside his sleeve.
Because even the gentlest ghosts—
Could not remain among the living forever.
---