Translator: CinderTL
"Occultism," Jiang Cheng mused, finding the term quite fitting.
Yuan Xiaoyi, still her innocent self, nodded and said, "That's right, Xiaohui said the same thing."
At Jiang Cheng's gentle urging, Yuan Xiaoyi gradually calmed down and reorganized her thoughts, beginning to recount the entire incident from start to finish.
"Jiangtan University has long been plagued by Urban Legends surrounding the library. Even some of the younger teachers privately whisper that the library's feng shui is bad."
"But the rumors vary wildly, some sounding utterly ridiculous."
"Since Xiaohui spends so much time in the library, we asked her to keep an eye out for anything unusual."
"We almost forgot about it after a while. Then, one evening, we suddenly received a message from Xiaohui asking us to meet her later at our usual spot."
Yuan Xiaoyi paused abruptly at this point, then whispered, "It's... it's the abandoned warehouse behind the Activity Center, Senior. I told you about it."
"That place," Jiang Cheng nodded, indicating he understood.
"Yes, when we arrived, Xiaohui was already inside. She excitedly told us that she had contacted a Senior Sister who had already graduated and learned an Urban Legend about the school library from her."
"She emphasized that this Urban Legend was absolutely true because it had happened to a classmate of the Senior Sister's."
After a few seconds, Yuan Xiaoyi seemed to gather her thoughts before continuing. "The Senior Sister's classmate, Xiao Yao, lived in the dorm next door. She was a kind and helpful person. When the school library organized a book donation drive, Xiao Yao volunteered to help."
"The event was a great success, even attracting coverage from the city's television station. Everyone was enthusiastic, and the event lasted until evening."
"Xiao Yao's main task was to register the book lists donated by students, teachers, and members of the public, and then help the library staff sort the books."
"After the event, everyone helped move the books to the library's third-floor warehouse. Then, they all went their separate ways."
"After dinner, when Xiao Yao returned to her dorm and opened her backpack, she realized her notebook was missing. She had only opened her backpack in the library warehouse, so it must have fallen out there."
Xiao Yao glanced at the time. It was already 8:30.
Normally, the library closed at 9:00, but she figured the staff wouldn't close so early tonight because of the event.
Her notes were crucial, and she needed them urgently tonight. So, Xiao Yao left her dorm and ran toward the library.
When she reached the library entrance, the gate was already closed. Strangely, though, she saw a faint light still burning deep inside.
Taking a chance, Xiao Yao walked up to the gate and gently pushed it. To her surprise, it opened.
The gate wasn't locked.
Xiao Yao breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed her luck was good. Someone must still be inside, probably a staff member tidying up.
She first headed toward the light on the first floor, intending to greet the staff member and avoid getting locked inside.
As she approached, she realized the light was coming from the first-floor men's restroom. The sound of running water—likely a faucet left on—filled the air.
Feeling awkward about getting too close, she stood a short distance away. Through the open door, she could vaguely make out a figure squatting inside, facing away from her.
Because the light was dim, Xiao Yao couldn't tell which teacher it was. After calling out a few times without a response, she quickly explained her purpose for being there. She noticed the teacher's neck move slightly, as if nodding in acknowledgment.
Feeling foolish, Xiao Yao decided to quickly retrieve her belongings and leave. The atmosphere tonight felt unsettling.
Reaching the storage room, she used her phone's flashlight to locate the light switch. Flipping it on, she immediately spotted her notebook lying on the floor.
It was in a conspicuous spot. As she picked it up, Xiao Yao felt a strange unease. The notebook's placement seemed too deliberate, as if someone had intentionally left it there rather than it having simply fallen.
Startled by this sudden thought, Xiao Yao quickly tucked the notebook away, eager to leave.
But as she stepped out of the storage room, a chilling gust of wind sent shivers down her spine. The temperature seemed to plummet to zero degrees Celsius in an instant.
Even more terrifying, the lights she had turned on along the corridor on her way here were now all extinguished, plunging the hallway into complete darkness.
Every single light in the library had gone out.
An eerie silence had fallen over the entire building.
Xiao Yao's first thought was of the teacher. This must be their doing. Perhaps they assumed she had left and turned off the lights.
As Xiao Yao was lost in thought, an unusual sound came from one direction.
"It's at the end of the hallway."
"It sounds like... someone turning pages, the friction of paper against paper, but the sound is slow, agonizingly slow, making my heart ache."
"And after staring for a while, Xiao Yao realized there was light emanating from that spot."
"The sound of turning pages, light... someone must be there!"
Xiao Yao's spirits soared. She immediately ran toward the light, climbing the stairs until she found its source.
It was an ancient-looking structure resembling a bar, unlike anything Xiao Yao had ever seen. A ring of glass enclosed a semi-enclosed space, and a large black table inside held a kerosene lamp.
As the flame flickered, the scene shifted between light and shadow.
Yet it was clear: no one sat behind the table. Only a dark red wooden chair with heavily worn armrests stood there, giving the immediate impression that an elderly man on his deathbed had once occupied it.
On the translucent glass, the words "Lending Desk" were written in crooked, uneven strokes.
Not far from the lending desk, several tables lined the wall, each occupied by a few people.
There were about a dozen in total.
There were young men and women in black trench coats, as well as Middle-Aged Men in work clothes with mud-stained shoes.
Each table held a kerosene lamp, and everyone was hunched over their books, their postures eerily uniform.
The only sound in the world seemed to be the rustling of turning pages.
In the next instant, Xiao Yao's body began moving uncontrollably toward the readers. She then sat down next to a young man.
She took out her notebook, spread it on the table, and lowered her head to study it.
(End of the Chapter)
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