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Wandering around my room, I found nothing else worth complaining about except for a diary and two boxes of Kangshiniang instant noodles.
Luckily, I quickly got to know my past through this diary. After a careful watch, I finally defined my past as a loser.
Besides, there were so other details. Afraid to forget, I took out a notebook and wrote them down:
Na: Mu Yun
Sex: Male (Hmm, at this point, I pulled open my fly, peeked inside, not bad, pretty big)
Age: 25 years old (Huh, sothing feels off, like I’ve suddenly aged a lot)
Height: 1.72 ters (That’s not right either. When I walked out of the fast-food restaurant earlier, I felt taller than the average person. If I were 1.72 ters, I wouldn’t stand out like that)
Weight: 49 kg, skinny (This is even more wrong. In the mirror, looking at my solid and well-developed muscles, the clearly defined six-pack abs, I should add another 20 kg to this physique at least.)
Hobbies: Reading
Occupation: Teacher
Eh?
Teacher?
I quickly grabbed the diary to look for more information and found that I really was a glorious people’s teacher, although a contractual one.
Opening a drawer, I found a Teacher Qualification Certificate for senior high school.
This ans I’m also a high school teacher.
Damn, I’m feeling all high and mighty, aren’t I?
Teacher, oh teacher...
How does that song go, oh yes, "Teacher’s window sill, a pot of Milan, little yellow flowers hiding among the green leaves, not blooming for the sake of competing in spring, quietly spreading fragrance, filling the heart, ah~ Milan, ah~ cough! Cough cough!"
Sorry, sorry, choked on my own breath.
Soon I thought of myself standing in a bright and clean classroom the day after tomorrow, holding chalk and a textbook, imparting wisdom to those young boys and girls—teaching them knowledge for advancent and the principles of life, being adored; then surrounded by a bunch of cute girls like flowers, and even a few shyly looking at , handing a love letter written and torn up countless tis, then blushing and saying in a sweet voice, "Teacher... I, I like you..."
Oh my, how shy!
I was rolling around on the bed with a pillow when I heard a knock at the door.
"Knock knock knock."
"Who’s there?"
"Knock knock knock." The response was still a knock.
"I’m coming, just a mont."
Too lazy to put on slippers, I walked barefoot to the door and opened it to find, darn, no one there!
I looked left and right outside the door, the hallway was deserted.
What’s going on?
I scratched my head and closed the door.
Just as I took a few steps away, the knocking ca again: "Knock knock knock."
"Who the hell is it!"
I fiercely opened the door, damn it! Still no one!
That did it; I was fired up now. I left the door open, stood at the door with hands clenched in fists, a face full of anger.
Damn, even though I’ve got amnesia, my mind still clings onto so stuff, especially things related to horror movies.
Take for instance, this trope of knocking on doors—the darn thing must have occurred countless tis in horror movies. First, you open the door and see no one, then you go in, and there’s more knocking. Open it again, and yup, nobody in sight. Repeat this twice, and just as you turn around, that thing would... Uh, wait a minute, that thing...
Uh...
Suddenly, I felt a chill run down my spine. I glanced left and right, swallowing hard to myself. My body slowly, ever so slowly, retreated toward the inside of the door, and then my right hand grabbed the doorknob and flung it!
"BANG!"
The door slamd shut and, in a flash, the first thing I did was rush into the bedroom, squirming under the covers like an eel!
"Amitabha, Tathagata Buddha, real body, Allah, Christ, Jesus, Holy Mother Mary! I’m a good person, I swear! Despite not knowing what I used to do, I’ve lost my mory and have turned over a new leaf now, so dear brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, old n and won, please regard as thin air. As for karma from past lives, let’s just forget it in this life and leave it for the next one."
"Click-clack, click-clack..."
The sound of high heels!
Gulp!
It’s getting closer, the sound of the high heels incessantly marching from the living room toward the bedroom.
In this mont, my heart felt like it was about to jump out of my throat!
So nervous, so excited—wait, what’s there to be excited about, dammit! If the other side is really a ghost, then it’s all about reaping souls now!
Goodbye, my noble teaching career; farewell, my dewy-eyed students, especially the girls.
It’s here!
Judging by the sound, it had entered the bedroom and was walking towards the head of the bed!
What do I do? What do I do?
Just as I didn’t know whether to turn tail or fight, the sound of the high heels abruptly stopped.
At a ti like this, I sure as hell wouldn’t act like those movie characters who suicidally lift up the covers. No, I remained nestled in my blankets, refusing to budge.
I couldn’t rember which book it was, but my mory did hold onto a snippet of information: generally, ghosts harm people by creating illusions, leading individuals to lose themselves, ultimately ending in them doing themselves in. So, as long as I stayed snug under the covers without stirring, I’d be fine. Plus, humans are surrounded by a life force called yang energy, especially n with a robust vitality; now that I was hiding under the covers, the yang energy would be condensed and not dispersed, which would surely deter the ghost from coming in.
Sure enough, after I’d lain low for a while, the area around remained quiet.
Phew, it should have left, right?
Just as I was about to lift the covers, my outgoing hand suddenly froze!
No, no, this is just like in the movies, the ghost is definitely lurking right outside!
Better to stay put under the blankets and keep my peace of mind.
After a short while, the sound of the high heels ca once again. Only this ti, it was different from before; the heel seed to be tapping impatiently on the floor.
Humph, when it cos to endurance, I could make a turtle and a sloth spit blood with envy!
Just as I thought this, a woman’s voice ca from outside the covers: "Hey, are you even a man? Hiding under the covers for half an hour, and you still don’t co out for a breath."
"Yeah, right, when it’s a choice between breathing and staying alive, life wins hands down, you idiot."
Huddled under the covers, hearing that the ghost was a female, as soone who crafted Sculpted Silk, I naturally mustered up so courage.
A female ghost is still female, what’s there to be scared of!
Hadn’t soone once boasted about being a national little cannon, bragging about being able to jerk off to Sadako? As a fellow aficionado, I surely couldn’t show weakness in front of a female ghost.
Besides, humans only fear ghosts a little, while ghosts fear humans a lot; if you don’t do anything bad, you won’t be startled by a knock in the dead of night!
With that thought, I suddenly threw off the covers!
PS: So readers might be confused by these last few Chapters. I, Lao Zhan, must remind you: It’s best not to skip around when reading my novel, otherwise any confusion is on you. Also, if you’ve got the skills to skim ten lines in one eyeblink but still don’t understand sothing within three Chapters, please go back and carefully read the previous two Chapters. Usually, there are very subtle descriptions hidden there.
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