Chapter Forty-Nine: The Bucket Fell

It was a private school built halfway up the mountain, sprawling over an immense area. From the multitude of pointed roofs and rough exterior walls, one could tell that its architecture mimicked that of a medieval castle.

“I never imagined there’d be such a unique school hidden away in our Huadian District. I’ve never even heard anyone mention it before,” Li Hua marveled in amazement.

Zhou Chang didn’t mock Li Hua’s reaction; when he’d first come here to make a delivery, he too had been just as overwhelmed by the sight.

“All right, after this next bend, we’ll reach the back gate. Don’t give the security guard a reason to laugh at us.”

“Oh, right.” Li Hua rubbed his face and straightened up in his seat.

The van’s headlights illuminated the narrow forest road ahead. On either side, the mountain pressed so close that the branches brushed the windows, producing an eerie, whimpering sound that made one feel inexplicably tense.

About three minutes later, the van pulled into a clearing.

Ahead stood a solid iron gate and surrounding wall, with lush green lawns on either side.

Clang—clang—

The iron gate was pushed outward from inside, revealing a man in a security uniform, and, beyond him, a more expansive stretch of lawn and the castle’s full, imposing structure.

The scattered, crooked little windows looked like eyes lurking in the darkness, radiating an unsettling aura. Within the castle, faint firelight flickered instead of electric lamps.

The security guard was tall—probably close to two meters—and built so powerfully that it seemed his uniform might split at the seams.

“Have you eaten yet?” Zhou Chang leaned out the window, greeting him politely.

The guard nodded expressionlessly, then noticed Li Hua in the passenger seat. “Who’s that?”

“He’s our company’s new hire—his first day. I’m showing him the ropes,” Zhou Chang explained, discreetly nudging Li Hua’s shoulder.

Catching on, Li Hua took out a cigarette and offered it. “Big brother, I’m Li Hua. I hope you’ll look out for me.”

The guard ignored him, coldly glancing at Zhou Chang. “Don’t bring anyone else here again.”

At that, Li Hua felt a flush of embarrassment. He thought, this guy’s just another salaried worker, what’s he got to be so high and mighty about?

“Open the back,” the guard ordered, rapping on the van’s sliding door.

Zhou Chang didn’t dare delay, twisting around to unlock the door from inside and helping to push it open.

Had it been anyone else, he might have stood up for Li Hua, but for some reason, whenever he faced this particular guard, Zhou Chang always felt uneasy, as though he were confronting not a man, but a human-shaped beast.

“The count’s fine. Go on in,” the guard said.

Clang—

With a show of force, the guard slammed the van door so hard that the whole vehicle shook, startling Li Hua.

Fortunately, Zhou Chang was accustomed to it. He adjusted himself, then drove the van along the lamp-lit path deeper into the school grounds.

Before long, they stopped in front of a seemingly endless castle. The first floor was ringed by a long corridor, its walls adorned with sconces, each set upon a column, resembling the wavy line of a set of gums.

In the middle of the corridor was a rounded archway—not particularly large—connecting the clearing outside to the interior. Through it, one could glimpse a staircase leading upstairs, but the lighting was so dim it was impossible to discern the layout.

Directly across from the archway, on the right side of the road, stood a high retaining wall. Beyond that, dense thickets covered Mount Luo Qi.

All around was as silent as a stagnant pool.

Shh—

Zhou Chang slid open the van’s door and hefted a water barrel onto his shoulder. Seeing Li Hua sullen, he tried to comfort him. “Still holding a grudge? When we’re done, let’s grab a drink somewhere. This is the job—there’ll always be strange and difficult clients. You’ll get used to it.”

“Sigh.” Li Hua exhaled heavily, but picked up a water barrel and followed.

One after the other, they passed through the archway into the castle’s ground floor.

The layout was simple: a central corridor with rooms lining either side—nothing more.

“Stick close. Don’t get lost,” Zhou Chang instructed as he led Li Hua down the left corridor. Some of the doors were shut, others carelessly ajar, as if theft was the least of their concerns.

“Zhou, now I get why you said what you did in the van earlier,” Li Hua chuckled suddenly.

“What did I say?” Zhou Chang asked absently.

“You said it felt like someone was watching you.” Li Hua glanced back the way they’d come. The corridor stretched like an endless abyss, their footsteps echoing through the gloom—it was easy to let your imagination run wild.

It felt sinister.

“Shh! Keep your voice down!” Zhou Chang hissed, visibly startled.

“What are you afraid of? No one’s around to hear us—it’s not embarrassing,” Li Hua replied, grinning from ear to ear.

“Are you really so sure?” Zhou Chang shot back.

And that, for a moment, made Li Hua pause.

What if—

Someone really was there?

He instinctively glanced behind him and could almost see a pair of eyes glittering in the darkness.

Gulp.

Li Hua swallowed hard, knowing it was just nerves playing tricks on him. He fell silent and pressed on.

When faced with the unknown, the mind conjures up all sorts of images—like walking home alone at night, constantly feeling as though danger lurks behind.

“We’re here. This is the room—just set it down,” Zhou Chang said, pushing open a door to reveal an empty space.

Imitating Zhou Chang, Li Hua placed the barrel in a corner, and they returned to the van for more.

“How late do you usually have to work by yourself?” Li Hua asked.

“On a good day, half an hour. If it’s slow, maybe an hour.”

“Why don’t you use a dolly? Carrying these barrels one by one is exhausting.”

“That’s why I usually am so quick—today all the dollies are with my coworkers. Just my luck.”

“No wonder you brought me along.”

“Drinks don’t pay for themselves, you know.”

At first, the two could chat as they worked, but after five or six trips, fatigue set in and neither spoke. Only the sound of their footsteps and labored breathing echoed through the corridor.

Luckily, there weren’t many barrels—just thirty in all—and soon there were only two left.

Without a word, each man shouldered a barrel and entered the castle.

Just one last delivery and they could be on their way, but suddenly, Li Hua’s sweaty right hand slipped, and a barrel crashed hard onto the corridor floor with a deafening thud.

Thump—

“Oh, can’t handle it anymore?” Zhou Chang turned and chuckled, not blaming him. The barrels were sturdy—unlikely to break, and even if a little water spilled, it was no big deal.

However, he’d taken only a few steps before noticing Li Hua had yet to move. Without turning, he called back, “Hurry up! Don’t dawdle like an old woman.”

“Zhou—Zhou…”

Li Hua’s voice came from behind—soft, almost off.

Zhou Chang turned, puzzled, and saw Li Hua standing there, pale as a ghost, his hand trembling open, the barrel rolling gently away on the floor.

“What is it?” Zhou Chang asked, frowning as he approached.

“T-this…” Li Hua’s voice shook as he showed his hand, his face deathly white. “Blood… the barrel’s full of blood!”

(To be continued…)