Chapter 79: Layers of the Game

On the bus, Li Zhuiyuan turned his head to look out at the street scene, and at the reflection of himself in the window.

The woman who had appeared at the General’s Temple was indeed Ran Qiuping.

But the Dead Sinker beneath the statue wasn’t Qiu Minmin.

Qiu Minmin had already been beaten to the brink of collapse by his group. No matter what method was used by the entity controlling her, there was no way she could have recovered so quickly.

And what role did those two fellow Corpse Retrievers at the temple play in all this? Judging from their behavior, the young man seemed to be deliberately avoiding his master—which meant he was very likely the one aiding Ran Qiuping from behind the scenes.

Perhaps, just like how Sun Hongxia had been brainwashed by Ran Qiuping, Ran Qiuping herself might have been turned into a pawn by someone else.

The thread of events had suddenly extended and complicated itself.

Li Zhuiyuan was pleased with this development. The more people got entangled, the messier things became, and the more fun it was to handle. Only when the tower of blocks is tall enough does knocking it down become satisfying.

When the bus reached his stop, he got off but didn’t head straight back to the dorm. Since Lu Yi hadn’t taken any money, he figured the least he could do was buy him a meal.

It was still afternoon and early for dinner, so the Lao Sichuan restaurant was empty.

He picked a table, ordered a few dishes, and a bowl of seaweed and egg soup.

The dishes came quickly. Li Zhuiyuan ate half a bowl of rice with the dishes, then focused on drinking his soup.

Lu Yi ate heartily—Sichuan food paired well with rice, and boys his age were in their prime eating years.

After finishing their meal and walking out of the restaurant, Lu Yi wiped his mouth with a tissue and said, “Prodigy Bro, next time just call me if you need anything. No need to treat me again—too polite.”

“Alright.”

Li Zhuiyuan let Lu Yi return to the dorm first and headed to the school infirmary himself.

The infirmary consisted of two three-story buildings—one on campus and one off-campus. Officially, it served both the school and the surrounding community.

Li Zhuiyuan saw Yin Meng standing in a corner, guarding several bags of store-bought food and rice with incense sticks inserted. She was waiting for the incense to burn out.

Shared hospital rooms made meals inconvenient for Runsheng.

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t call out to Yin Meng. He quietly went upstairs.

Guided by the sound of snoring, the boy found the right room and stood at the window, looking at the sleeping Runsheng.

Runsheng was recovering well. His face now had color, unlike the pallor of the previous night.

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t go in. He leaned against the wall, hands behind his back, left foot propped up, sole pressed to the concrete. The sun hadn’t yet set, but the evening breeze was already eager, brushing past like it was on duty early.

And the boy just stood there, listening to the snores and feeling the wind, for a long time.

Only when he caught a glimpse of Yin Meng coming up the stairs with the incense ashes and rice did he quietly take the stairs down on the opposite side.

Back at the dorm building, the dorm auntie’s office was still empty.

It was summer break, and hardly anyone was in the dorms. The auntie's absence wasn’t unusual. In fact, Ran Qiuping’s prior presence had been the oddity.

Other dorms didn’t have full-time dorm supervisors either—at most, someone would drop by every few days.

Back in his room, Li Zhuiyuan’s eyes fell on the luggage belonging to him and Tan Wenbin.

Thanks to Xue Liangliang driving the truck, they had brought all their tools and gear with them.

But that might’ve also exposed them. Just like the old man he’d seen at the General’s Temple, sometimes keeping your identity hidden worked in your favor.

Who said only those standing in the light represented the Heavenly Way?

This was a question. After this matter was handled, the first thing to address would be disguising their gear. Then they’d need to adjust the team’s physical demeanor—couldn’t have someone spotting you on the street and instantly pegging you as an expert or ghost-hunter.

Li Zhuiyuan pulled a small bundle of ritual flags from the bag. Each flag had tape on the end—peel it off and it stuck. He also took out a chalk line and a brush for special pigments.

He stood with his back to the dorm door, compass in hand, surveying above and below. Once the layout was clear in his mind, he began placing the flags.

Ceiling, walls, floor—flags everywhere.

Then he snapped the chalk line to mark patterns, and used the brush dipped in cinnabar and other materials to draw the sigils.

Finally, he set a stool in a specific spot and propped a bronze mirror facing the door.

That bronze mirror had been a gift from Ah Li—likely inherited from Granny Liu. It was perfect as a formation core.

Next, he’d need to disguise the formation flags. Once Tan Wenbin had time, he’d ask Binbin to buy some foreign flags to wrap around them. Outsiders wouldn’t think it was some feudal superstition—just some college student decorating the room to show off personality.

Just then, the sound of slippers came from the hallway. Li Zhuiyuan recognized the steps—it was Lu Yi.

Lu Yi knocked, but Li Zhuiyuan didn’t respond.

A moment later, Lu Yi opened the door himself.

Holding two thermos flasks, he stepped inside and suddenly froze, unable to tell east from west or even where he was.

From Li Zhuiyuan’s view, Lu Yi was turning in circles on the spot, still holding the bottles.

The boy shifted the mirror slightly. Lu Yi blinked in confusion, only feeling like he had zoned out for a second.

“Hey, what was I here for again?”

Then it came to him:

“Prodigy Bro, I got you a bottle of hot water from the water room downstairs.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“No need to thank me—it was on the way.”

Lu Yi set the flask in a corner, then glanced at the flags and patterns around them. “Prodigy Bro, what’re you doing here?”

“There’s a ghost in the dorm.”

“Ah! I just remembered—I’ve got something to prep for class!”

Lu Yi immediately picked up the other flask and bolted out, shutting the door behind him.

That, in fact, was how normal people reacted to the supernatural. Tan Wenbin’s behavior in the past had been the exception.

Grabbing a washbasin, Li Zhuiyuan took a shower at the sink. Returning to the dorm, he flipped the mirror back toward the door, then climbed into bed to sleep.

Before drifting off, fragments of last night’s attempt to control Qiu Minmin began replaying in his mind—images from her memories, all disjointed and static.

He’d thought they were part of her nature, but it turned out she was a Ghost-substitute under someone else’s control.

Which meant the memory fragments weren’t just useless—they might be misleading. A puppet like a Ghost-substitute had very little selfhood to begin with.

The next morning, just after Li Zhuiyuan woke, he heard footsteps running down the hallway—it was Tan Wenbin.

After a brief hesitation, Li Zhuiyuan flipped the bronze mirror back again. He knew Wenbin would probably demand to “try it out” as soon as he entered.

Tan Wenbin opened the door, holding a case file in one hand and breakfast in the other.

“Yo, Little Yuan Bro—this is your dorm warding setup?”

“Yeah.”

“Why doesn’t it work?”

“I turned it off.”

“Why’d you turn it off? You should’ve let me try it!”

“Let’s handle business first.”

“Fine, fine.”

Tan Wenbin sat down. The two began eating breakfast while poring over the documents.

“My dad pulled some strings for this. Hey, turns out he really does have connections.”

“I remember you said he was later reassigned to a township police station.”

“Yeah, supposedly for screwing up.”

“What’d he do?”

“A son doesn’t speak ill of his father.”

“You didn’t dare ask?”

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