Chapter 3: XiaYin

“Xia Yin…”

Xueqiu murmured the boy’s name softly, then coughed dryly twice.

It felt like a blade was lodged in his throat.

No, two blades.

Xueqiu turned his stiff neck, scanning the surroundings.

The floor was a mess.

The dining table, broken in two, still lay there.

Next to it were the blood-soaked Wu San books.

On the floor, the blood had dried.

He glimpsed a few crushed grains of rice among it.

Where’s the tentacle?

Sitting on the stairs, Xueqiu scanned the room repeatedly.

Still, he couldn’t find the tentacle monster that tried to kill him.

He instinctively looked down at his chest.

Where the Qingtan City No. 8 High School emblem once was, a large hole gaped.

The beige hoodie inside was torn too.

He could clearly see the pale skin beneath.

This wasn’t a dream.

No need to fool myself with “it was just a nightmare.”

Grandma was gone.

And I nearly died to that tentacle monster.

But why am I still alive?

Xueqiu looked at the black-haired boy who’d helped him up and sat him on the stairs.

The boy was tapping furiously on his phone, as if recording something.

“Thanks… for…” Xueqiu paused, forcing three words through his lips.

He didn’t know the boy’s background, only that he called himself “Xia Yin.”

As for the “senior” and “Professor” the boy mentioned, Xueqiu was clueless.

“Your voice sounds like a girl’s. I thought the report said you’re a guy? Whatever, my mission’s done. Logistics can handle the rest—they’re pros at this.”

With that, the boy shoved his phone back into his gray jacket’s pocket.

He picked up a black stick leaning against the broken dining table.

Xueqiu didn’t recall any such stick in his grandma’s house.

But on closer look, it wasn’t a stick—it was a long blade.

The handle was wrapped in fresh black cloth, like grip tape on a badminton racket.

The crossguard gleamed red, even under the incandescent bulb.

The pure black blade showed no patterns, only endless darkness.

“Please, wait, I…” Xueqiu didn’t know why he called out to him.

He might not be a good person.

Would a good person carry a long blade like that?

But based on what happened, he saved me.

“Fine, fine, running fast won’t help… Gotta say what needs saying. After all, I’m your future senior.”

Xia Yin casually tossed the blade toward Xueqiu.

The handle hit the concrete steps, sliding down the stairs to the second floor with a clatter.

“I’m not a riddle guy. Ask whatever— who I am, where I’m from, what that monster was, why you’re not dead. All fair game.”

“Or don’t ask anything. That way, you won’t set any flags with me.”

Xueqiu suddenly felt this boy wasn’t a bad person.

Sure, he’d been a bit impatient, talked a lot, and threw a blade at him.

“What were those… tentacles?” Xueqiu asked cautiously.

“Tentacles? Call it a tentacle monster if it’s got tentacles. If it’s a humanoid with a pig’s head, call it a pig-head man.”

Xia Yin toyed with the stainless steel handrail, looking down at Xueqiu.

“Alright, no teasing. We call those things ‘Shadow Ghosts.’ Shadow as in shade, ghost as in demon.”

Shadow Ghost? Xueqiu froze at the term, then quickly processed it.

It wasn’t some beast from Animal World.

Nor a monster slipping through a green vortex portal into this dimension.

That tentacle monster had an official name.

But is this scientific?

Is it real?

Does something that upends everything I know actually exist?

And who are the “we” he’s talking about?

Xueqiu stayed silent.

Xia Yin’s chatterbox opened, spilling endlessly.

“Now that you know what tried to kill you, you must really, really wanna know who I am, right?”

“I’m Xia Yin. Summer’s Xia, cause-and-effect’s Yin. I killed that ugly tentacle monster. Easy peasy. Used that blade. So, technically, I’m your savior.”

He walked over to Xueqiu, picking up the black blade again.

“The blade…”

Xueqiu felt his body ache, like he’d run ten kilometers, then done a hundred push-ups and squats.

With his frame, he’d probably collapse after the first task.

The black blade had no blood, not a single stain.

On closer look, Xueqiu saw the blade emitting faint steam.

“What about the blade? Normal weapons can’t kill that thing. Guns, for example.”

As he spoke, Xia Yin pulled a metal lump from his waist.

“Special Operations weapons are a different story. You’ll learn later.”

“Later?” Xueqiu felt hollow.

His temple itched; he brushed it and felt a lock of hair.

He clearly remembered getting a haircut last week, though it didn’t matter now.

Looking at Xueqiu, whose skin was pale enough to pass for a girl’s, Xia Yin frowned.

It was as if he’d forgotten something, then smacked his head.

“Fck! Almost forgot what the Professor told me to say. Eh, whatever, it’s not too late…”

Seeing him toss the gun and blade to the floor, rummaging frantically through his jacket pockets, Xueqiu’s view of this impulsive, talkative boy shifted.

Using the human instinct of association, honed over millennia, Xueqiu thought of Jiang Cheng.

But even Jiang Cheng wasn’t this chatty.

After about a minute, Xia Yin pulled a metal card from his black pants pocket.

An eye was engraved in the center.

Above it, in clear regular script, was a line of text.

Ting’an University, Spiritual Academy.

Ting’an University, outside Qingtan City, rivaled Tsinghua and Peking in prestige.

It was the dream school of every high schooler in Qingtan.

Xueqiu knew only five people from Qingtan had gotten in over the past decade.

And now, Xia Yin, standing before him, held what seemed like a Ting’an University student ID…

Or was it?

No.

The three words after “Ting’an University” stunned Xueqiu.

Spiritual Academy?

This was reality, not some Western fantasy story.

Xueqiu was certain of that.

He quickly dismissed the card as a DIY prank meant to mess with him.

But would someone really sneak into a stranger’s house at night, swing a very non-toy-like black blade, make a mess, then pull out a metal card to flaunt it?

Just as the world wouldn’t have tentacle monsters appearing in ordinary homes at night, killing his only family.

“Hm? No reaction? Shouldn’t you be cheering, like, ‘Hell yeah, I got in!’? Like some kid who, after eighteen years of bad luck, gets snatched up by a university in far-off Illinois, America… Wait, that’s not how the story goes…”

Xia Yin suddenly looked as glum as a college student missing a passing grade by one point.

He thought for a moment, then added the rest.

“Oh, right, you’ve seen EVA*, haven’t you?”