Raising a Wife in a Supernatural World [Infinite] – CH15

Chapter 15: Spook High (15)

Yet the food was cold now.

Sensing the hesitation in Xie Yunhuai’s eyes, Qin Fu’an pulled a spare pair of disposable chopsticks from his pocket, bowed his head, and began eating without the slightest reluctance.

Watching his profile as he quietly finished the meal, Xie Yunhuai parted his lips, but in the end, he said nothing. Averting his gaze, he lowered his head and went back to his homework.

This was supposed to be the midday break set aside for students to nap. Yet within this classroom, not a single person—players included—dared rest their head on their desk and truly sleep. The suffocating burden of homework and study schedules forced them to keep their noses buried in their books every waking second. To make matters worse, the Dean’s elongated neck and head would routinely materialize outside the window, soundlessly monitoring every student in every corner of the room.

By the time Qin Fu’an finished the chilled meal, the classroom had settled back into the same suffocating stillness of the morning.

The rhythmic scratching of pens against paper grated on raw nerves, making one’s heart fray. They hardly sounded like students studying in a classroom; instead, the noise inexplicably conjured the grotesque image of silkworms crawling across a wicker tray, ravenously gnawing away at mulberry leaves.

Qin Fu’an did not immediately go to Nan Zhu to reclaim the items taken from the campus shop. Instead, he pulled a blank scratch notebook from his desk and, following the crowd, began swiftly jotting things down.

If a player were to lean in right now, they would discover that across the blank page, penned in a sweeping, elegant script, lay the rules of Spook High.

Not the official campus code printed in black and white by the administration, but the untouchable taboos and operational boundaries he had deduced since entering this instance.

Qin Fu’an divided the rules he had tested into two categories: Absolute Red Rules, which were inviolable and triggered instant death upon breach, and Flexible Yellow Rules, which allowed room for evasion or required repeated, cumulative infractions before triggering a lethal warning.

The Red Rules were as follows:

Students are strictly forbidden from lingering anywhere outside the classroom during class hours under any pretext.

Disruptive behavior, shouting, and disturbing classroom order during the homeroom teacher’s period are strictly prohibited.

If a class’s conduct score hits zero, all students and faculty within that class—including the homeroom teacher—shall become food for the rest of the school.

No disruptions or unrest of any kind are permitted during morning calisthenics.

Tardiness to school-wide assemblies is strictly prohibited.

Theft is forbidden.

Academic marks are the sole hall pass.

The Yellow Rules were as follows:

Complete each class’s assigned homework on time.

Shouting and wasting food are prohibited in the cafeteria.

Do not look directly at objects bearing eldritch forms (e.g., the school flag, items within the convenience store).

For students, the instructional buildings provide a measure of structural sanctuary, particularly when pursued by non-faculty entities.

Subject teachers hold lower authority than the homeroom teacher and cannot lay hands on students directly, though they may utilize school rules to engineer a student’s demise.

Academic marks are the sole hall pass. (Food may potentially serve as an alternative currency among students.)

Having filled an entire page, Qin Fu’an lifted his pen. After circling several key clauses, he looked over the rest and finally grasped why Spook High was designated merely as a beginner instance.

To newcomers freshly dragged into this system, these rules were scenarios they had already navigated in the mortal world. Aside from one or two clauses explicitly tied to supernatural horrors, the rest appeared thoroughly ordinary and intimately familiar.

Weren’t these just the basic campus and classroom codes laid out by every standard school?

Strictly speaking, upon entering this trial, a player only needed to abide by the baseline conduct expected of an ordinary student and diligently complete their assignments. Doing so was practically a guarantee to survive until the day of the Gaokao.

By that same logic, unless unforeseen anomalies occurred, the difficulty of the other two beginner instances should not diverge far from Spook High.

Just as video games featured mandatory introductory tutorials, beginner instances truly were training grounds designed to usher novices through their introductory phases.

He glanced up at the players ahead, who were still writing furiously. His pale green eyes narrowed with lazy exhaustion. Snapping the scratch pad shut, he pillowed his arms over the desk, tilted his head to the side, and closed his eyes to take a nap.

Startled to find the person beside him already breathing in a steady, genuine slumber, Xie Yunhuai froze mid-stroke. A slight turn of his head brought a flawless sleeping face into view.

With Qin Fu’an’s eyes closed, the unyielding arrogance and razor-sharp aggression hidden beneath his brows softened considerably. Those green pupils, though crystalline and breathtaking as the finest emeralds when open, inexplicably resembled a deep, tranquil abyss—unfathomable, distant, and dangerous to cross.

Yet the moment his lashes rested against his cheeks, that intimidating aura melted away.

In fact, bathed in the stillness of deep sleep, his features carried a rare, tranquil gentleness.

Like a blaze of blinding sunlight that had run rampant across the sky all morning, only to be tucked beneath a layer of sheer clouds, softly scattering warm, gentle light across every inch of the earth below.

Without realizing it, Xie Yunhuai found himself staring at the man’s features, completely mesmerized.

He couldn’t fathom why this newly arrived deskmate radiated such a fierce, untamed vitality—so brimming with life that he clashed jarringly with this decaying, corpse-like institution.

Yet at times, Qin Fu’an appeared thoroughly languid, observing his surroundings with an idle detachment. Whether it was the gruesome death of a classmate or the strange behavior of the other transfer students, nothing seemed capable of stirring a ripple in his composure.

He was perpetually nonchalant, yet at crucial junctures, he would unleash a lethality beyond measure.

Just like the way he had stepped in to seize Teacher Zhang’s teaching role without warning.

No one could have predicted he would be so brazen, yet carry it off with such seamless ease.

Without a shred of outside help, Qin Fu’an had not only resolved the crisis, but cleanly eliminated the source of the danger itself.

Qin Fu’an was formidable.

Whether in knowledge, physical capability, or intellect, he lacked for nothing.

Therefore, within a few days, he would inevitably ace the Gaokao and leave Spook High far behind.

Xie Yunhuai was well aware that this outcome carried a certainty of at least ninety percent; Qin Fu’an was not the type to let himself be trapped in this school’s endless loops like a helpless prisoner.

Yet precisely because of this, Xie Yunhuai had refused all contact and communication with him from the start.

A person destined to leave had no business carving marks into this place.

Yet Qin Fu’an insisted on meddling with him.

Qin Fu’an seemed to take active pleasure in provoking Xie Yunhuai.

Test papers, hard candy, chocolate, lunch…

In the span of less than half a day, Xie Yunhuai had already accepted far too much goodwill from this man.

If Qin Fu’an left in five days, Xie Yunhuai would simply sink right back into a pool of stagnant water.

At this thought, Xie Yunhuai’s gaze darkened with a faint, dangerous shadow.

The soul tentacles that had remained largely dormant within his vessel began unfurling in the air, thrashing and soaring toward Qin Fu’an, entirely invisible to the naked eyes of the other students and players.

They coiled around the sleeping human ring after ring, writhing and tightening until they had cocooned Qin Fu’an within an impenetrable, pitch-black shroud.

Yet the moment Qin Fu’an’s brows knit faintly and he shifted with a trace of discomfort, the tentacles that had been flaunting their might scattered like startled mimosa leaves. Shrinking back in utter panic, they hurriedly unwrapped from his frame and scurried timidly back into Xie Yunhuai’s frail body.

We almost got caught!

No, no, he can’t see us!

But we squeezed him too hard, he frowned!

Still… we don’t want him to leave. If he leaves, we’ll go hungry again…

Why don’t… why don’t we sneak away with him?

No way! We can’t abandon the main body! If the body starves to death, we’ll die too!

Then what are we supposed to do?!

I don’t know, my stomach is so empty. Did you guys eat my brain? I’m starving. Can I eat yours?

Our brains are already hollowed out…

Waaaah, we’re so hungry…

Faint, soft whimpers trickled persistently into his ears. To keep himself from bursting into laughter, Qin Fu’an had no choice but to adjust his posture, turning his face to the other side.

No wonder his little deskmate kept hitting walls on his assignments; the boy’s soul had starved to the point of devouring its own brain.

It also explained why the tentacles seemed remarkably slow-witted compared to the host vessel, behaving like a cluster of gluttonous, skittish children.

The curve of his lips deepened, yet his mind eased into complete relaxation. Drifting amidst those tiny, aggrieved murmurs, Qin Fu’an allowed himself to slowly sink into sleep.

Throughout the break, the Dean ambled past the window of Grade 12, Class 4 more than once, catching sight of Qin Fu’an asleep at his desk every single time.

Each pass set the students and players on edge, yet each time, the Dean acted as though he were blind to the sight, casting a single glance before sweeping his attention to the other students.

He embodied the art of “turning a blind eye” to absolute perfection.

Of course, if any other student had possessed the audacity to follow Qin Fu’an’s lead and slump over for a nap, their fate would have been polar opposites.

Fortunately, the students in the class were keenly aware of this fact. Thus, even when crushed by exhaustion and spiraling into near-feral frenzy, not a single one dared close their eyes for a stolen moment of rest.

When the midday break came to a close, Qin Fu’an stretched, yawned, and leaned lazily against the edge of the desk behind him. His pale green, crystalline eyes half-lidded, he watched a brand-new teacher stroll into the classroom right on the bell.

With the lessons and trials of the morning behind them, the remainder of the afternoon progressed with relative tranquility. Aside from Qin Fu’an, the other five players adapted remarkably well.

However, once classes dismissed for the day and they were herded back to the cafeteria to face that vile slop under the strict gaze of two monitoring teachers, they could no longer cheat and dump the foul mess into the slop buckets.

Meanwhile, the only person capable of running interference for them wasn’t walking in their ranks. He strolled leisurely at the rear, followed by a delicate-looking student whose face was pulled into a sour scowl.

“I’m really not hungry,” Xie Yunhuai emphasized for what felt like the hundredth time, desperate to make Qin Fu’an stop fretting over his survival.

It wasn’t as though he could die anyway.

Yet every time he brought it up, all he received in return was that man staring fixedly at his skull with a profoundly strange expression.

Xie Yunhuai: “…”

Just what kind of illness did Qin Fu’an have?!

Raising a Wife in a Supernatural World [Infinite]