Lan Zhan POV

The night had settled over the campus, calm and still—or as calm as it could be with Chen practically vibrating at my side.

“I don’t get it,” Chen whispered, eyes wide. “Why did the club end so fast? Qiao Yijun barely told us anything!”

Mo smirked, leaning against the railing. “That’s the point. It’s supposed to keep you curious. Hungry.”

I adjusted my bag strap, glancing at the old wing from a distance. The shadows still seemed…aware. Watching. Waiting.

“Hungry?” Chen asked, voice trembling. “For ghost stories? For spooky things?”

“Exactly,” Mo replied. “Or maybe for answers. You want to know what a Manmuhda does next, or which hallway it will haunt? You want to see if you survive the Midnight Bus?”

I studied the shifting reflections in the windows, my voice calm. “Patience has its own reward. But curiosity…curiosity is what draws them out.”

Chen gasped. “They? Drawn out? Lan, don’t tell me there’s more than one!”

“There’s always more than one,” I said, letting a faint smile tug at my lips. “But revealing too much spoils the fun.”

Mo folded his arms. “So here’s the deal. We keep watching. Waiting. And maybe…you, whoever you are reading this, can tell us what you want to see. Shadows in the hallways? Ghostly laughter? The secret of the Hollow Footsteps Manmuhda?”

Chen clutched my sleeve. “Readers can talk to us?”

I nodded slightly. “In a way. Tell us what fascinates you. What frightens you. What makes your curiosity burn. We’ll see…if the story answers.”

The wind rustled through the darkened campus. Somewhere in the distance, a faint echo of laughter—or was it imagination?—traveled along the corridors.

“Stay tuned,” I said, voice quiet but steady. “The night is far from over.”

Chen shivered. “Lan…this is thrilling. I mean terrifying, but thrilling!”

Mo rolled his eyes. “Of course it is, Chen. It’s the start of the next chapter.”

And somewhere, just beyond sight, something waited—patient, curious, and watching.