Chapter 19: Shadow Ghost
The room on the fourth floor by the elevator wasn’t large.
To Xueqiu, it resembled the teachers’ office at Qingtan High—desks, wooden chairs, a ceiling fan overhead.
The only difference was that a high school office wouldn’t have an elderly man like the one before her.
His hair was white, his skin deeply wrinkled, and he sat alone in a chair behind the desk.
As Xueqiu entered, she saw his warm smile, creasing his face into countless folds.
“Good morning, Professor Chen.”
Xueqiu cautiously stepped to the desk.
A wooden chair sat nearby, but she didn’t take it, standing stiffly like a student summoned for misbehavior.
She was nervous.
It’d be odd not to be nervous, she thought, staying composed while silently reassuring herself.
Xia Yin was the only person she’d known before coming to this school, but he wasn’t here now.
In other words, she barely knew anyone else.
Xueqiu admitted she was painfully shy.
“Sit, sit,” Professor Chen said, waving a hand.
Xueqiu noticed he was holding something—an unpeeled apple.
“Xia Yin must’ve told you a bit about this place.”
Like a magician, the old man produced a fruit knife from somewhere, peeling the apple with deft movements.
It felt like a routine chat between a diligent teacher and a student.
Xueqiu nodded.
She had thousands of questions, but facing this elderly man, she couldn’t utter a single one.
Professor Chen didn’t seem surprised.
After his question, he focused on peeling the apple, only speaking again once it was fully bare.
“Xueqiu, how many species exist in this world?”
She froze, unsure of his meaning.
Was this a test of her high school biology?
She vaguely recalled something about this in her Biology II textbook, but it wasn’t a key topic.
It had been crossed out by a teacher light-years away in another dimension—photosynthesis, respiration, cell division, and genetics were what she had to memorize.
“Maybe over two million, or eight million, or even a trillion. But humans have only scratched the surface of known species,” Professor Chen said, handing her the apple without waiting for a “don’t know.”
“Are you talking about Shadow Ghosts? Senior Xia Yin mentioned them,” Xueqiu said, taking the apple, suddenly grasping the professor’s intent.
“Shadow Ghosts are a collective term for dozens or hundreds of species beneath that unknown surface, not just one creature.”
Professor Chen pulled photos from a drawer, laying them before her.
The first showed a sprawl of black sludge, like Venom from the MCU.
The second was swarmed with countless black insects, denser than a locust plague.
Even without entomophobia, Xueqiu felt uneasy.
Then she saw the third photo.
It was a creature she couldn’t classify—not animal, not insect—but she recognized it instantly by its jelly-like body and tentacles.
“They haven’t existed long. The earliest real-world sighting was 1,400 years ago. But they don’t usually appear in reality. They don’t belong there—they exist in a parallel, independent space,” Professor Chen said.
Xueqiu found the explanation familiar.
Xia Yin had said something similar, mentioning this wasn’t the real world but a separate space called “Youdu.”
“You mean… Youdu?” Xueqiu asked, her mind foggy.
If Youdu was here, and the professor’s “other space” was this place, then…
Why was the sunlight outside so bright, the campus so pristine, not crawling with Shadow Ghosts or rivers of blood?
Absurd. Too absurd.
“Yes, Shadow Ghosts and we both exist in Youdu, but not entirely in the same space,” the professor continued.
“The school is protected by a special ability, a space within a space. So, no need to worry about encountering Shadow Ghosts on campus.”
His words left the girl across from him frozen.
The logic felt tangled.
“What’s this ‘special ability’?” Xueqiu asked suddenly.
Could superpowers really exist? She’d pondered this seven days ago.
Per Xia Yin, the answer was a simple “yes” or “of course.”
He’d demonstrated it too—leaping from a speeding van and landing back on its roof, something no normal person could do.
“Xia Yin explained ‘Contracts,’ right?” Professor Chen spoke quickly, faster than seemed fitting for his age.
“He said it’s like a superpower,” Xueqiu murmured.
In truth, Xia Yin hadn’t called Contracts superpowers.
He’d said they were a disease, the “superpower” just a symptom.
“By common terms, yes, a superpower,” Professor Chen said, pausing.
“When someone carries enough Shadow Ghost genes, a Contract is etched into their body.”
“Shadow Ghost genes?”
Xueqiu recalled hearing this in the van.
Xia Yin had been emotional, spilling about “Contracts” and “Shadow Ghost genes” in a rush.
“Shadow Ghost genes—or Shadow Genes. Some humans carry genes similar to Shadow Ghosts. When they reach a certain concentration, a Contract activates,” Professor Chen repeated, ensuring she understood.
Though curious about how youthful the professor suddenly seemed, Xueqiu was more eager to grasp his words.
“What’s the concentration?”
“8% to 49.75%. That’s our admission standard. Your Shadow Gene concentration meets it, making you an early-admission freshman this year.”
He pulled papers from the drawer, placing a profile with her photo before her.
It listed her name, age, hometown, and, in Times New Roman font, “Shadow Gene Concentration: 8.04%.”
Eight-point-zero-four percent.
Just 0.04% above the minimum.
“Isn’t that… too low?” Xueqiu whispered, barely audible even to herself.
“No, no, you’re exceptional. The board and I are certain of it. Don’t doubt yourself. We don’t get many like you, even fewer this year,” Professor Chen said with a kind smile, reverting to his elderly demeanor.
“Oh, Professor, I have a question,” Xueqiu said, staring blankly at the form.
Her gaze fixed on the top left corner.
It was a question no one had answered—not Xia Yin, not Carlos.
If Professor Chen stayed silent too, she’d be out of options.
“Ask away. Anything you don’t understand,” he said, dropping his professorial air for a grandfatherly one, coaxing his granddaughter.
It made Xueqiu hesitate.
“Why did I become like this? My height, my features, my body, my gender—I wasn’t like this before.”