Chapter 15: Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15: The Ninth Victim

The headmaster's study smelled of ink and ashes, a combination that had become synonymous with death in Bai Su's mind. She stood before the massive oak desk, her hands still tingling from the phantom blood that had coated them minutes ago.

Headmaster Zhou Zhao sat motionless, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His eyes, normally sharp with scholarly intensity, seemed hollowed out, shadowed by something deeper than exhaustion.

"We have another body," he said.

Bai Su's stomach clenched. "Who?"

"Lin Wei. Third year. Found in the eastern library wing an hour ago."

The name hit her like a physical blow. Lin Wei was one of the few living students who had been kind to her since her arrival—a quiet girl from the calligraphy society who always saved her a seat during morning lectures.

"How?"

"Same as the others." The headmaster pushed a scroll across his desk. "Drained of life qi. But this time, there's a difference."

Bai Su unrolled the parchment. It was an examination scroll, the kind used for the monthly assessments. The answers were written in elegant brushstrokes, each character perfectly formed. But the ink was wrong. It wasn't black.

It was red.

"What am I looking at?"

"The victim's final exam. She wrote it yesterday, before she died." The headmaster's voice cracked. "We only found it today, tucked inside her sleeve. The ink appears to be her own blood."

Bai Su's eyes scanned the answers. They were flawless. Every question answered with a precision that spoke of hours of study, of memorization, of desperation.

"Look at the last question," the headmaster said.

She turned to the final section. The prompt asked for a poem on the theme of autumn's passing. Below it, in that same crimson ink, was written:

*The ninth leaf falls before the first frost,*
*The ninth candle burns before the last,*
*The ninth student dies before the ghost,*
*The ninth bell tolls before the past.*

"Nine," Bai Su whispered. "Chen Feng was the eighth victim. Lin Wei is the ninth."

"And look at the signature."

She did. Where Lin Wei's name should have been, there was only a single character, written larger than the rest, bleeding through the paper:

*Bai.*

The room grew cold. Bai Su's fingers went numb, and the scroll slipped from her grasp, landing on the desk with a soft thud.

"That's not my handwriting," she said.

"I know."

"Then how—"

"I don't know." The headmaster stood, his joints popping audibly in the silence. "But someone is trying to frame you, Miss Bai. And given that you were seen entering the bell tower alone last night, I must ask: where were you between the hours of midnight and dawn?"

"I was in the bell chamber. I told you. I was following a ghost."

"Which ghost?"

"I don't know his name. He was dressed like a scholar from the old dynasty. He knew about the veil, about the qi theft, about everything."

"And you expect me to believe this?"

"I expect you to believe evidence." Bai Su's voice hardened. "Check the bell tower. There's broken glass everywhere. Someone shattered the window before I arrived. And there was a footprint—my footprint—already in the dust."

The headmaster's eyes narrowed. "You're saying someone anticipated your arrival?"

"I'm saying someone has been one step ahead of us from the beginning." She picked up the scroll again, reading the poem a second time. "The ninth candle burns before the last. The ninth student dies before the ghost. This is a countdown. Whoever is doing this has a specific number in mind. Ten? Twelve? A hundred?"

"Why the poem?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's a message. Maybe it's a warning. Maybe it's a confession." She looked up. "But I know one thing for certain."

"What?"

"I didn't kill Lin Wei. And the real killer is still here, watching us, waiting for the tenth leaf to fall."

A knock interrupted them. The same servant girl from before entered, her face even paler than it had been in the bell tower.

"Headmaster, there's someone here to see you. He says it's urgent."

"Who?"

"He... he says he's from the Ministry of Rites. That he's been sent to investigate the disappearances."

The headmaster exchanged a glance with Bai Su. The Ministry of Rites had no jurisdiction over academy matters. Their purview was ceremonies, protocols, and imperial examinations—not death.

"Show him in," the headmaster said.

The man who entered was young, perhaps thirty, with a face that seemed carved from stone. He wore the dark robes of a minor official, but the way he moved spoke of something else entirely. Military training, perhaps. Or something older.

"Headmaster Zhou," he said, bowing slightly. "I am Inspector Yan. I've been assigned to look into the unfortunate incidents at your academy."

"Unfortunate incidents," the headmaster repeated. "We've had nine deaths, Inspector. That's more than unfortunate. That's a massacre."

"Indeed." The inspector's eyes swept the room, landing on Bai Su. "And you are?"

"Bai Su. New student."

"The one who discovered the first body."

It wasn't a question. Bai Su's heart rate quickened. "Yes."

"I've heard a great deal about you, Miss Bai. They say you can see ghosts."

"I can."

"How fortunate." The inspector smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "I've always been curious about such things. Perhaps you could assist me in my investigation."

"I'm already assisting."

"Good. Then you won't mind if I ask you a few questions." He produced a small notebook from his sleeve, flipping it open to reveal page after page of cramped handwriting. "Let's start with your whereabouts on the night of Chen Feng's death."

"I was in my dormitory. Asleep."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"And the night of Lin Wei's death?"

"I was in the bell tower. Alone."

"Convenient." The inspector's pen scratched against the paper. "Do you have any witnesses?"

"The ghost I was speaking to."

"Ah, yes. The ghost." He looked up, his eyes冰冷的. "And where is this ghost now?"

Bai Su opened her mouth to answer, but the words died in her throat. The shadow in the corner of the room had begun to move, detaching itself from the wall with a slow, deliberate grace. It took shape—a young man in tattered robes, his face obscured by darkness.

The ghost scholar.

He raised a finger to his lips. *Silence.*

Bai Su's blood froze.

"Miss Bai?" The inspector's voice cut through her trance. "Is something wrong?"

"No." She tore her gaze away from the shadow. "I... I don't know where he is. He appears and disappears at will."

"Convenient," the inspector repeated, writing something down.

The ghost scholar moved closer, circling behind the inspector. His hand reached out, hovering just above the man's shoulder, and Bai Su saw something she hadn't noticed before.

A thread of silver light, thin as a spider's silk, connecting the ghost's fingers to the inspector's spine.

The ghost was feeding on him.

"Stop," Bai Su said, the word escaping before she could stop it.

The inspector looked up. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing. I... I need some air." She turned to leave, but the ghost scholar's voice caught her, a whisper that only she could hear.

*He's not who he says he is.*

Bai Su froze.

*The Ministry of Rites sent no one. I checked the records. He's a ghost wearing a dead man's skin.*

She forced herself to breathe. "Inspector Yan, when did you say you arrived at the academy?"

"I didn't." His eyes narrowed. "But I came this morning, shortly after the body was discovered."

"And you came alone?"

"My assistant is waiting in the courtyard. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Bai Su's mind raced. If the ghost scholar was telling the truth—and she had no reason to doubt him—then the man standing before her was another piece of the puzzle. A false inspector, sent by someone to muddy the waters.

Or to silence her.

*He knows about the veil,* the ghost scholar's voice continued. *He knows about the qi theft. He knows about you.*

"Miss Bai." The inspector stood, his movements too fluid, too smooth. "I think it's time we continued this conversation somewhere more private. Headmaster, if you'll excuse us."

The headmaster looked uncertain, but he nodded. "The reading room is empty. You may use it."

"Thank you."

The inspector's hand closed around Bai Su's arm, his grip like iron. She felt cold—not the cold of the ghost, but something deeper, something that seeped into her bones and whispered of graves long forgotten.

"After you," he said, guiding her toward the door.

She looked back at the ghost scholar, who had retreated into the shadows once more. His eyes met hers, and she saw something she hadn't expected.

Fear.

The inspector was not a ghost. He was something worse.

He was a corpse that had learned to walk.

And he was taking her to a place where no one would hear her scream.