Chapter 17.2: The Game

The next day.

Lu Zibing never imagined that making a fool of himself on stream was bad enough—but now it had a sequel.

Last night, he had been so scared out of his mind that he didn’t dare sleep alone. So he spent the entire night gaming on his livestream.

All romance games. It was Valentine’s Day, and every Dreamweaver was running some kind of event.

But thanks to Rouge Comb traumatizing him, every time he saw a historical drama heartthrob or beauty, his PTSD kicked in. Even when he switched to a modern romance game, he got paranoid, convinced that every gift from the male lead was cursed.

After struggling until dawn, he finally passed out from exhaustion.

When he woke up at noon, he was greeted by his own name trending on the Gamma Star System’s entertainment hot search.

— #LuZibingCriedFromFear#. And not just that—it had shot straight into the Top 50, with a whole list of related tags trailing behind: #LuTheCoward##RougeComb##Don’tTalkBigInAHorrorFlick#…

Among all the fluffy, pink Valentine’s Day hashtags, this one stuck out like a sore thumb.

Clicking in, he saw his livestream highlights. Someone had edited together his arrogant pre-show bravado with his breakdown, creating a masterpiece of comedic timing. The comment section was flooded with 【HAHAHA】.

Lu Zibing: “…………”

A Valentine’s Day gift? Really? Have some humanity!

【I almost died laughing. Who is this streamer? He’s hilarious. Instant follow.】

【What kind of short film is this? How scary does it have to be to make someone cry like that?】

【I’m curious now!! Are there actually Dreamweavers who specialize in horror? I’ve never heard of one!】

As the hashtag gained traction, his very first viral theme park challenge video resurfaced and was placed side-by-side with his latest breakdown.

【HAHAHAHA I knew he looked familiar! He’s the “fearless” theme park guy from back then!】

【If Rouge Comb managed to break a guy like this, I need to see it for myself…】

【Watching both clips together is even funnier!】

【Our streamer spent three years proving he had nerves of steel, only to go viral for crying like a baby (RIP).】

【You guys are evil. Now the whole universe knows about our streamer’s humiliation (doge).】

【We can’t be the only ones suffering. Everyone, go watch Rouge Comb! It’s seriously amazing, I swear!】

Lu Zibing fumed in silent rage. For a brief moment, he actually considered livestreaming himself watching Eldritch God to reclaim his dignity.

Normally, these kinds of viral moments burned out quickly.

But then, a single post at noon sent it skyrocketing again.

@JingyanV: 【Just woke up. Wait, someone actually cried? #LuZibingCriedFromFear#】

Attached was a meme so old it had practically fossilized—an image of a smug little sparrow staring down at another sparrow’s face, captioned: No way… you really cried?

Lu Zibing: “…………”

Mom!!! Why is this Dreamweaver so mean?! I’m reporting her!!

[Collaboration… Contract Signing…]

[Confession! Your style is really unique—please keep going…]

Her notifications were flooded with all sorts of messages, the little red dot never disappearing.

The most common question from the audience was about the update schedule for Rouge Comb, while others were asking if she had any plans to sign a contract or if she needed funding.

Honestly, Shang Jingyan could use some funds.

Previously, she had only rented a single-user space on the Inner Net, where she single-handedly built Eldritch God—ten-star coins for a day’s stay.

But Dreamweaver spaces with multiplayer performance capabilities were outrageously expensive, charged by the hour. By the time Rouge Comb wrapped up, the two million in her account had almost run dry.

Without investors buying out the rights, short dramas relied heavily on audience purchases and tips to recoup costs, which was a painfully slow process. Fortunately, she had another trick up her sleeve—she had come up with a way to make money on her own during filming.

—She had secretly developed a game.

No matter the world, games were always money-making machines. In fact, for many Dreamweavers, games were their biggest source of income.

She updated her feed, and right after the post teasing Lu Zibing, she sent out another message:

[Rouge Comb updates every Saturday at midnight—stay tuned! Also, my new horror-thriller full-immersion game Building 18 is coming soon! Don’t miss out! ^_^]

–

Ao Qingxue had been refreshing Shang Jingyan’s page out of boredom when she unexpectedly saw the new post.

“Weekly updates—awesome! Wait, a game too?!” she blurted out in surprise. “Did she make this while filming Rouge Comb?”

How much energy does she have? And seriously, just how high is Director Shang’s mental power level? Her output speed was practically unmatched among Dreamweavers.

For a fan like Ao Qingxue, the more content, the better.

Ever since she started following Director Shang, her own mental recovery had been progressing well. The little green sapling in her mental landscape had grown to nearly half her height.

She was something of a special case, though—among the audience, not many became devoted fans who created fan content like she did.

But one thing was widely accepted: the deeper a viewer’s emotional investment in a Dreamweaver’s work, the better the therapeutic effect.

Excited, Ao Qingxue turned on her camera and started a spontaneous livestream. The chat immediately lit up:

[Haha, did our streamer just get blown away by Director Shang’s latest update? Same here!]

“Of course I have to support Director Shang’s game!” she said as she scrolled through the game’s details. But this time, there was no official trailer—just a soft launch.

Building 18 Tags: Campus, Urban Legends, Horror, Thriller, Light Mystery.

Description: Beneath the seemingly peaceful school lies a hidden secret. Spanning across time and space, can you make the right choices and uncover the truth from years ago?

“Urban legends?” That was a new tag.

Meanwhile, “light mystery” was an existing but niche tag. There were detective and crime investigation works in the interstellar world, but they almost always paired the protagonist with a romantic partner—whether it was a love-hate dynamic, a strong-partner duo, or a power couple.

These works also tended to avoid particularly gruesome crime scenes to keep from scaring the audience too much.

As for mystery games, they focused on puzzles and logic rather than horror—unlike Director Shang’s approach.

Judging by the description, this game seemed to include elements of time travel.

The post only featured a few art concept images, along with a direct link to the pre-order page.

Ao Qingxue clicked on the link. The pre-order page’s background resembled an old, yellowed photograph.

It showed the front gate of a mid-century high school, with gray marble engraved with faded red characters: Baishui County No. 2 High School.

At the top of the image, a countdown timer read: Time until school starts: 2 days, 23 hours, 55 minutes.

The chat exploded with curiosity:

[What’s so scary about a school? I guess I’ll pre-order and find out.]

[The scariest thing I can imagine is failing math…]

[LMAO, that countdown is terrifying—it’s giving me flashbacks to those nights of last-minute cramming before school started. (doge)]

Ao Qingxue flipped through the concept art again. There wasn’t much to analyze—just a run-down school building, a cracked sports field overgrown with weeds under the setting sun, students in blue-and-white uniforms… everything looked completely ordinary.

But she trusted Shang Jingyan. Without hesitation, she clicked Pre-Order.

Once pre-ordered, the game’s full-immersion entry ID card could be 3D printed directly in a full-dive capsule. Dreamweavers often used this feature to add little design flourishes or Easter eggs for extra fun.

Ao Qingxue pulled out her ID card and examined it closely. “This is pretty unique… is this an appointment letter?”

The design was minimalistic—a plain white envelope, sealed with a slightly crooked postage stamp. Inside, the letter was printed on aged paper with a bold red header, handwritten in black ink:

Dear Ms. Azure Snow,

Congratulations!

We are pleased to inform you that you have passed the written and interview assessments and have been officially appointed as the Principal of Baishui County No. 2 High School. Please bring this invitation letter and report to the school on July 30, 2123.

Before your onboarding, please review the following materials:

– Principal’s Handbook – Baishui County No. 2 High School History

Wishing you safe travels!

Sincerely,
The Faculty and Students of Baishui County No. 2 High School.

–

After getting absolutely roasted on Valentine’s Day, Lu Zibing had sulked in silence for three days, binging Shang Jingyan’s works.

He watched them alone. No chat, no audience.

Though he did go through a series of embarrassing events—being too scared to use the bathroom in the dark, leaving the lights on all night, hiding under the blanket afraid to stick his head out—he still powered through.

And, like a true warrior, he posted his completion badge:
[Finished watching Married to an Eldritch God and episode one of Rouge Comb. Didn’t cry!]

The top comment instantly called him out:

[We got a tough guy over here. Someone handle this? @JingyanV]

Lu Zibing still believed that the last time he got scared to tears was just because he hadn’t been mentally prepared. If he tried again, he could totally laugh his way through it.

Humans are weird like that—he had sworn never again, yet here he was, itching for more.

Terrifying, yet thrilling.

Horrifying, but exhilarating.

That’s the deadly allure of horror.

After making his post, he happened to see the update about Building 18. He skimmed the images and description, thought for about three seconds, and then hit Pre-Order.

Perfect timing—the game was launching in an hour.

Lu Zibing turned on his camera and confidently went live.

[Oh wow, look who’s back! It’s our very own Lu “Big Scaredy-Cat” Zibing. (doge)]

[Bro really renamed his stream to “Galactic Federation’s Bravest, Taking on Building 18 to Redeem My Honor” LOL.]

“Host, your expression is terrifying!”

A school setting—it’s a timeless favorite in storytelling.

During development, Shang Jingyan watched a lot of school-themed works from this world. Unsurprisingly, they reminded him of the high school romance novels from his past life.

Turns out, no matter the time or place, teenage emotions are universal.

And schools? They’re also a classic setting for horror stories. Shang Jingyan could rattle off at least ten horror movies set in schools without even opening his eyes.

Thanks to the enclosed environment and unique social structure, directors have an easy time creating an eerie atmosphere.

“This is that streamer, Lu Zibing?” Shang Jingyan spotted a glowing marker and stroked his chin. “…Damn, that’s some guts.”

—Out of these two thousand players, fewer than ten had chosen the hardest difficulty right off the bat. Lu Zibing was one of them.

…

Completely unaware that the game’s creator was watching him, Lu Zibing logged in at the school gate of “Baishui County No. 2 High School,” the same location featured on the game’s official website.

He glanced at the light-brain wristband on his arm. Once inside the full-immersion game, the live stream chat was minimized to this interface.

Lu Zibing summoned the settings menu, and a selection window popped up.

Most RPG story-based games on the market offered two options: one where players directly “became” the protagonist, and another where they simply followed the main character without needing to act, letting the protagonist handle all the scripted dialogue.

Confident in his skills and courage, Lu Zibing chose the first option.

A faint glow flickered, and his outfit transformed. He reached up to touch his face and long hair. “Who am I? Oh, right—the protagonist is the new principal. I’m here to start my job.”

The countdown above his head ticked down—three minutes… one minute… ten seconds…

Zero.

With a crisp ding, a mechanical female voice rang out from the sky: [Please select your game mode.]

[Normal Mode: Simplified controls, low monster aggression, easier escapes. Excessively gory or twisted scenes will be censored.]

[Intermediate Mode: Same mechanics as Normal Mode, but with uncensored visuals.]

[Hell Mode: Increased difficulty, full monster aggression, uncensored visuals. Players, choose carefully!]

The last sentence was bolded and highlighted in red. Lu Zibing hesitated for a moment, but then puffed up his chest. “How bad could it be? Hell Mode it is! Alright, folks, watch me clear this game!”

The moment he confirmed his choice, a cutscene appeared before his eyes, setting up the story through a first-person flashback.

The camera wobbled as if inside a moving bus. A woman held onto a handrail, talking on the phone.

She looked to be in her thirties or forties, with short black hair, a gray woolen trench coat, and a gray-pink scarf. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses rested on her nose, giving her a smart and professional look.

—This was Lu Zibing’s new in-game identity.

The subtitle in an elegant Song-style font introduced the protagonist: Langzhu.

Langzhu worked in education and had just been transferred to No. 2 High School as the new principal. The previous principal had resigned unexpectedly not long ago.

Rumors swirled that the school’s feng shui was… strange. Administrators never lasted long. Langzhu’s friend even called her on the way to warn her not to take the job.

“Feng shui?” Lu Zibing repeated the unfamiliar term. “What kind of dialect is that? What does it mean?”

The livestream chat was just as clueless.

“You know I don’t believe in that stuff,” Langzhu said helplessly to her friend. “…Alright, alright, I’ll be careful. No need to worry.”

A voice-over echoed in her mind: [I came to this school to uncover the truth about the past…]

“…So ‘I’ have a hidden motive for being here. That must be what the game description meant by, ‘Can you make the right choices and uncover the truth of the past?'”

The bus came to a stop. The world spun for a moment, and Lu Zibing’s vision aligned with Langzhu’s.

The game officially began.

Everything around him became vividly real. The ground felt solid beneath his feet.

A bus horn blared behind him as the vehicle drove away. He stepped forward. Before him stood the school gates, his shadow stretching long under the setting sun.

Tree branches swayed in the wind. Stray cats and birds occasionally darted past.

A gentle evening breeze carried the faint scent of wildflowers. The sensory realism stunned Lu Zibing. “Damn, Director Shang’s first game is this immersive?”

[Act One: Prologue—The New Job.]

[School starts in two days. You’ve arrived early to familiarize yourself with the campus, your future workplace.]

Lu Zibing noticed that Director Shang seemed particularly good at recreating settings from the previous star period. This game was no exception.

He presented his invitation to the security guard, explained his purpose, and with a rusty creak, the iron gate swung open.

The system notified him that he could currently access Buildings One through Three, the sports field, and the cafeteria. Everything looked incredibly authentic—like he’d truly stepped back in time.

“Where to first? The principal’s office is in Building Three. I’ll head there first.”

[You chose the office. You recall that the junior high division is also in Building Three. Due to budget constraints, you’re also the homeroom teacher for Class 4, Grade 9.]

[You decide to pick up the class roster and familiarize yourself with your students before the school year begins.]

The game had just begun. Lu Zibing had no idea what the main storyline was yet or what Langzhu’s true objective entailed, but he was eager to find out.

Since school hadn’t started, the campus was empty. Building Three had no elevator, just a long, dimly lit hallway at the entrance.

“Why is it so dark… Are there lights?”

The old hallway had poor design, blocking out natural light. The dusty windows further absorbed what little illumination remained.

Lu Zibing fumbled for a while before finding the switch. When he flicked it, the lights buzzed and flickered erratically. He thought he heard tiny creatures scurrying away.

Fully immersive games were far more intense than horror movies. Even with his bravado, Lu Zibing felt a little on edge.

A cold draft swept through the corridor, chilling him to the bone.

[…Starting to feel scared already. Schools are really creepy when they’re empty.]

[What kind of crappy school has flickering hallway lights? I’m filing a maintenance request!]

[LOL, he’s rubbing his arms! Are you scared, streamer? Don’t worry, we’re all here (to watch you freak out).]

“Who’s scared? I’m just cold!” Lu Zibing huffed.

Class 4 was on the third floor, but the old building had no elevator—he had to take the stairs.

The stairwell was at the end of the corridor. He clenched his jaw and hurried past the dark, empty classrooms. Just as he turned a corner—

A person stood right in front of him.

“OH MY GOD!!”

Lu Zibing, already on edge, nearly collapsed onto the floor.

It was just a janitor. The man carried a bucket and wore a faded blue uniform and cap.

The murky water inside the bucket looked filthy. Hugging the wall, Lu Zibing muttered, “Can that even clean anything… Just wait till I’m in charge—I’m replacing you all.”

For a brief moment, the janitor turned and glared at him, his gaze sharp and hostile.

[Director Shang: No budget for extras, but every NPC has premium AI, even the janitors glare at you.]