Chen Ge's suspicion of Fan Yu's aunt began to wane as she complied with his request, her cooperation disarming his initial wariness. He stepped forward cautiously, his boots leaving faint wet marks on the toilet floor, and bent down to retrieve the crumpled drawing she had placed on the ground. The paper felt damp under his fingers, its edges worn from being carried in her raincoat. Unfolding it, he saw a chilling image: a black building, stark and ominous, filled with red human figures that seemed to pulse with an eerie energy. But what caught his eye was the lone black figure standing apart, isolated from the red ones as if they feared its presence. The contrast was striking, the black figure's prominence unsettling in its solitude. Chen Ge's heart thudded, the toilet's dim light casting long shadows across the drawing, amplifying its unsettling aura. The image felt like a warning, a glimpse into a world he was only beginning to understand.
"You said that I am inside the painting. What is your evidence?" Chen Ge's voice was steady, but his mind was racing, unwilling to accept her claim without solid proof. A single drawing, no matter how eerie, wasn't enough to convince him that he was part of Fan Yu's haunted visions. He studied the aunt's face, searching for any hint of deception, but her expression remained earnest, tinged with a quiet urgency. The toilet's oppressive silence seemed to press in, the fifth cubicle looming behind her like a silent witness to their conversation. Chen Ge's grip on his mallet tightened slightly, his instincts urging him to remain cautious despite her apparent sincerity. The drawing was compelling, but he needed more than a child's artwork to believe he was entangled in the school's supernatural web.
Fan Yu's aunt stood in the corner of the toilet, her raincoat glistening with rainwater that dripped onto the tiled floor, creating a rhythmic patter that echoed in the confined space. "The people inside Fan Yu's painting have always been red in color," she explained, her voice steady but laced with a tremor of emotion. "In fact, this is the first time I have seen a black figure. I thought about it for a long time and deduced that you have to be this black person because, in the past month, you are the only outsider who has been to our house." Her words carried a weight of conviction, as if she had spent countless hours puzzling over the drawing's meaning. The dripping water punctuated her explanation, each drop amplifying the tension in the room. Chen Ge's mind churned, weighing her logic against the chilling possibility that he was now a target of the same forces that had haunted Fan Yu's family.
"That's all? Then what is the meaning of these red people? What is the difference between the red and the black people?" Chen Ge pressed, his tone sharp as he sought clarity. The drawing's imagery was vivid, but its significance remained elusive, and he needed to understand the rules of Fan Yu's visions. The aunt's eyes met his, her gaze steady but heavy with unspoken knowledge. The toilet's dim light cast her face in stark relief, highlighting the lines of grief etched into her features. Chen Ge's heart pounded, the weight of the moment pressing down as he waited for her response. The red figures, the black building, the solitary black figure—all of it felt like pieces of a puzzle he was racing to solve before the school's ghosts closed in.
Fan Yu's aunt studied him silently, her eyes searching his face as if weighing how much to reveal. Just when Chen Ge thought she might hold back, she spoke, her voice soft but deliberate: "The red figures represent ghosts, and since I've only seen one black figure, I assume it represents a living human." The revelation sent a jolt through Chen Ge, the word "ghosts" hanging heavy in the air. The toilet's oppressive atmosphere seemed to thicken, the shadows around the fifth cubicle growing darker as if responding to her words. The idea that Fan Yu's drawings depicted spirits was both chilling and plausible, given the boy's eerie connection to the supernatural. Chen Ge's mind raced, piecing together the implications—red for ghosts, black for the living, and he, the outsider, marked as the lone black figure in a world of spectral red.
"Ghosts?" Chen Ge echoed, his voice tinged with skepticism but also a growing curiosity. The claim was extraordinary, yet the evidence he'd uncovered—the carvings, the notes, the red shadow—lent it a disturbing credibility. He leaned slightly closer, his flashlight casting a faint glow on the drawing still clutched in his hand. "I know you won't believe it," the aunt continued, her tone calm and rehearsed, as if she had delivered this explanation many times before. "But certain things in this world are inexplicable. Before the accident that happened to Fan Yu's parents, I knew the boy could see things that normal people couldn't. I told his parents, but they didn't believe in things like ghosts." Her words carried a quiet conviction, her eyes distant as if reliving the moment she first realized Fan Yu's gift—or curse.
"Since they didn't believe it, why do you?" Chen Ge's question was sharp, his curiosity now fully piqued. He wanted to understand what had convinced her, what had shifted her perspective from skepticism to belief in the supernatural. The aunt's presence in the toilet, her willingness to confront him in this haunted place, suggested a deeper connection to the school's mysteries. The dripping of her raincoat filled the silence, each drop a reminder of the rain-soaked night outside and the urgency of their encounter. Chen Ge's mind churned, connecting her words to the clues he'd uncovered—the notes accusing Teacher Fan, the carvings of a traumatized girl, the eerie drawings of red figures. He needed to know what had pushed her to accept Fan Yu's visions as truth.
The aunt's expression softened, a flicker of warmth breaking through her weary demeanor. "Initially, no one knew that Fan Yu had this power until my husband and two children passed away in a car accident," she said, her voice trembling with suppressed grief. "That was the darkest period of my life. I would collapse whenever I saw their picture. Whenever that happened, Fan Yu would come to me with his drawings—two small red children living inside a black house, and he would tell me that the red children were his brother and sister." The revelation was heart-wrenching, her pain palpable as she spoke of her lost family. The toilet's cold tiles seemed to absorb her sorrow, the fifth cubicle looming behind her like a silent witness to her grief. Chen Ge's heart ached, the image of Fan Yu comforting his aunt with drawings of her lost children vivid in his mind.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she continued, "Naturally, I did not believe him initially; I assumed he was merely trying to make me feel better. But as the number of his drawings increased, my conviction started to shake. I would ask Fan Yu what his brother and sister were doing, and his descriptions were incredibly detailed. Sometimes, he even mentioned little habits of my children that only a mother would notice and know." The specificity of her words struck Chen Ge, the idea that Fan Yu could see and describe details only a parent would recognize lending weight to her story. The toilet's oppressive silence seemed to amplify her voice, each word a testament to the bond she still felt with her children, preserved through Fan Yu's haunting visions. Chen Ge's skepticism wavered, the emotional weight of her story pulling him closer to belief.
"That was when you believed Fan Yu can see ghosts?" Chen Ge asked, his voice softer now, touched by her vulnerability. The aunt's story was compelling, her grief a bridge to understanding Fan Yu's eerie gift. The toilet's dim light cast long shadows, the fifth cubicle's presence a constant reminder of the school's dark history. "Yes," she replied, her voice steady despite the pain in her eyes, "or I admit perhaps I wish that it is real. Sometimes, I even see my own child possessing Fan Yu's body." The confession was startling, suggesting a deeper, almost supernatural connection between Fan Yu and her lost children. Chen Ge's mind raced, the idea that Fan Yu might be a conduit for spirits adding a new layer of complexity to the mystery unfolding in Mu Yang High School.
Chen Ge's tone grew cautious as he pressed further: "Even if what you're saying is true, a child's painting still represents nothing. Don't tell me every human that appears in his drawing will die?" The question was pointed, his skepticism resurfacing as he sought to ground the conversation in logic. The idea that Fan Yu's drawings could predict death was a leap he wasn't ready to make, not without more evidence. The aunt's eyes met his, her expression unreadable as she gestured to the drawing. The toilet's oppressive atmosphere seemed to close in, the shadows deepening as Chen Ge waited for her response. He needed to know if the black figure—supposedly him—meant he was marked for death, or if there was another explanation for his presence in Fan Yu's haunting artwork.
"You can turn over the paper to look underneath it," the aunt instructed, her voice steady but carrying an edge of urgency. Chen Ge hesitated, then flipped the paper over, revealing another drawing that sent a chill through him. This time, it depicted an old well, its dark mouth gaping like a wound in the earth. Several figures, redder than those in the first drawing, were climbing out, their forms vivid and menacing. Beside the well stood a solitary black figure, its position eerily identical to the black figure in the black house drawing on the other side. The overlap was uncanny, the two images mirroring each other in a way that felt deliberate, as if Fan Yu's visions were warning of a specific fate. The toilet's silence seemed to pulse with the drawing's ominous energy, the fifth cubicle's presence amplifying the sense of dread.
The aunt's voice broke the silence, her tone sincere but heavy with warning: "According to legend, there is an old well at this school that has claimed many lives. The ghosts inside the well are coming out, and you're standing beside it, meaning you've been targeted by the ghosts. If you stay here any longer, accidents might happen." Her words were laced with genuine concern, her eyes pleading with Chen Ge to heed her warning. The mention of the well sent a jolt through him, his mind flashing back to the side mission he'd abandoned earlier. The black phone's instructions had been clear, yet he'd failed to find the well. Now, Fan Yu's drawing suggested it was real—and dangerous. The toilet's dim light seemed to flicker, the shadows around the fifth cubicle growing darker as the weight of her words settled over him.
Chen Ge's fingers traced the edges of the drawing, his eyes lingering on the vivid red figures climbing from the well. The images were haunting, their implications chilling as he compared the two drawings. A realization began to form, a connection between the well, the sealed classroom, and the ghosts that haunted Fan Yu's visions. "Looks like I've misunderstood you," he said, his voice steady as he slipped the drawing into his pocket, a subtle signal that he wasn't returning it. "Since I'm planning to leave, let's go together. This way, we can watch each other's back. This place gives me the creeps." His words were measured, masking the calculations running through his mind. The aunt's story was compelling, but he wasn't ready to trust her fully—not yet, not in a place as treacherous as Mu Yang High School.
"You're right," the aunt agreed, nodding as she stepped toward Chen Ge, her raincoat rustling softly. He turned to lead the way, his back exposed to her as they moved toward the toilet's exit. On the surface, he appeared to trust her, his posture relaxed as he gripped his mallet loosely. But beneath the facade, his senses were on high alert, every sound and movement amplified in the toilet's oppressive silence. The aunt followed closely, her steps quickening as if she feared being left behind in the haunted school. The distance between them narrowed, her presence a constant weight at his back. Chen Ge's pace was deliberately slow, his mind racing as he calculated his next move, aware that danger could come from any direction—human or otherwise—in this cursed place.
If someone could see Chen Ge's face as he walked, they would be startled by the cold, calculative glint in his eyes, a stark contrast to the trust he projected. His instincts screamed that something was off, the aunt's sudden appearance and convenient explanations too neatly aligned with the night's events. The toilet's shadows seemed to shift, the fifth cubicle's presence a constant reminder of the school's supernatural dangers. As the aunt drew closer, her steps almost silent on the wet tiles, Chen Ge's grip on his mallet tightened imperceptibly. He was ready for anything, his mind sharp despite the fatigue and fear gnawing at him. The school's mysteries were closing in, and he sensed that the truth—about the aunt, the drawing, and the ghosts—was within reach, if only he could survive the night.
Suddenly, the air shifted, and Chen Ge's instincts flared. The aunt was now mere steps behind him, her presence too close for comfort. In that moment, her demeanor changed, her face tightening with a tension that hadn't been there before. Her hand, hidden beneath the raincoat, emerged clutching something sharp, its glint catching the dim light as she lunged toward Chen Ge's exposed back. The sudden movement was swift, her slender frame belying a dangerous intent as she aimed to stab him. The toilet's silence shattered, the fifth cubicle's shadow seeming to pulse with anticipation as the attack unfolded. Chen Ge's heart raced, his body tensing as he sensed the betrayal, the truth of Fan Yu's aunt revealing itself in a single, deadly moment.
Chen Ge's voice was cold and steady as he confronted Fan Yu's aunt, his suspicions confirmed by her sudden act of violence. "I knew you were suspicious," he said, his reflexes honed by the night's relentless tension. His reaction was swifter than she had anticipated, his movements ruthless as he swung his mallet toward her hand, disarming her with precision. A sharp kick followed, sending her stumbling backward, her body crashing against the toilet's tiled wall with a dull thud. The impact echoed in the confined space, the sound sharp against the oppressive silence of Mu Yang High School. Chen Ge's heart pounded, but his mind remained sharp, every sense alert as he faced the woman who had just tried to stab him. The fifth cubicle loomed behind her, its dark presence a silent witness to the confrontation, amplifying the tension that crackled in the air.
The object in her hand clattered to the floor, its metallic ring piercing the silence. Chen Ge stepped forward, his flashlight illuminating the small, glinting implement—a paring knife, its blade wickedly sharp, designed for precision tasks like boning meat. The sight of it sent a chill through him, the realization of how close he'd come to being its victim sinking in. The knife's cold edge caught the dim light, reflecting a menacing gleam that underscored the danger of the moment. Chen Ge's eyes narrowed as he studied the weapon, his mind racing with the implications of her attack. The toilet's shadows seemed to deepen, the fifth cubicle's eerie aura pulsing as if feeding on the violence that had just erupted. He stood over the knife, his mallet still raised, ready to defend himself against any further threat.
Fan Yu's aunt struggled to her feet, her hair falling in disarray across her face, giving her the appearance of a vengeful spirit crawling from the shadows. Her eyes burned with defiance, but Chen Ge was unrelenting. Before she could fully rise, he stepped forward, using his strength to force her back to the ground with a controlled but firm push. Her body slumped against the tiles, her breath ragged as she glared up at him, her expression a mix of fear and fury. The toilet's cold, damp air seemed to cling to her, the dripping of her raincoat adding a rhythmic undertone to the tense standoff. Chen Ge's resolve was unshaken; he had faced too many dangers tonight to let his guard down now. The fifth cubicle's dark silhouette loomed in his peripheral vision, a reminder of the supernatural forces at play in this haunted school.
"I've suspected you since I visited your place, but I could not find any proof," Chen Ge said, his voice low and accusing. "Now, you've finally shown me your true face." His words carried the weight of hours spent piecing together clues—the notes, the carvings, the drawings—all pointing to her involvement in the tragedy of Fan Yu's family. The attack had confirmed his suspicions, her desperation to silence him revealing a guilt she could no longer hide. The toilet's oppressive atmosphere seemed to tighten around them, the shadows of the cubicles stretching as if to enclose them in their secrets. Chen Ge's grip on his mallet remained firm, his eyes locked on the woman who had tried to betray him, determined to uncover the full truth of her actions.
Fan Yu's aunt struggled against the floor, her attempts to rise futile under Chen Ge's watchful gaze. Her eyes blazed with a hellish intensity, her voice sharp as she spat, "How did you find out?" The question was laced with desperation, as if she couldn't comprehend how her carefully hidden truth had been exposed. The toilet's dim light cast her face in stark relief, highlighting the tension in her features as she glared up at him. Chen Ge's mind flashed back to the moments leading up to this confrontation—the footprints, the drawing, her sudden appearance in the school. Every clue had pointed to her, and her attack had been the final piece of the puzzle. The fifth cubicle's shadow seemed to pulse, as if the spirits within were watching, waiting for the truth to unfold.
"From the very beginning, I didn't trust you," Chen Ge replied, his tone icy as he held up the drawing she had given him. "And this drawing provides me with the crucial evidence. The drawing on the back was drawn by your hand. Do you think a child's art is that easily mimicked? Don't look at me like that; you're the one who made the mistake. If you don't want to get exposed, don't do the evil deed in the first place." He picked up the paring knife from the floor, its blade glinting coldly in the dim light, a stark reminder of her intent. The accusation hung heavy in the air, the toilet's silence amplifying the weight of his words. Chen Ge's mind was clear now—the drawing's inconsistencies, the deliberate trail of footprints, her presence here—it all pointed to her guilt in the deaths of Fan Yu's parents.
"You're the one who killed Fan Yu's parents, right?" Chen Ge continued, his voice steady but filled with righteous anger. "Regardless of your reason, how could you kill your own family in cold blood?" The question was a challenge, daring her to justify her actions. The paring knife in his hand felt heavy, its sharp edge a symbol of the violence she had attempted—and perhaps succeeded in—before. The toilet's oppressive atmosphere seemed to close in, the fifth cubicle's dark presence a constant reminder of the school's haunted history. Chen Ge's heart pounded, but his resolve was unshaken; he needed answers, and he wouldn't let her evade them any longer. The truth was within reach, and he was determined to drag it into the light, no matter how dark it proved to be.
Fan Yu's aunt's face contorted with rage and desperation as she lashed out, "It was never my intention to kill! You have no idea what really happened that night!" Her voice echoed off the tiled walls, raw with emotion, as if the weight of years of guilt and secrecy had finally broken free. The toilet's cold air seemed to carry her words, the fifth cubicle's shadow looming larger as her confession began to unfold. Chen Ge's eyes narrowed, his mind racing to process her claim. Was she denying her role, or was there more to the story than he had uncovered? The intensity of her outburst suggested a truth buried deep, one that might explain the tragedy that had consumed Fan Yu's family. He stood firm, the mallet and knife in his hands, ready to hear her out but prepared for any further deception.
"That is true, but one thing's for sure—you are one of the killers," Chen Ge said, his voice unwavering as he considered his next move. He needed to immobilize her, to ensure she couldn't pose a threat while he waited for the police to arrive. The toilet's dim light cast long shadows, the fifth cubicle's presence a constant reminder of the supernatural forces that might still be at play. Chen Ge's mind churned, weighing his options—bind her hands, secure her to something, or simply keep her pinned until help arrived. The weight of the night's discoveries pressed down on him, the notes, carvings, and drawings all pointing to a complex web of guilt and vengeance. He needed to keep her contained, but he also needed her to reveal the full truth of what had happened that fateful night.
The aunt's defiance faltered as she slumped against the wall, her voice trembling as she spoke. "The real killer is Fan Yu's father!" she insisted, her words sharp with accusation. The claim was startling, shifting the blame to a man who was no longer alive to defend himself. Chen Ge's eyes narrowed, his skepticism rising as he processed her words. The toilet's oppressive silence seemed to amplify her voice, each word echoing with a mix of truth and desperation. Was she trying to deflect her guilt, or was there a kernel of truth in her accusation? The fifth cubicle's shadow seemed to pulse, as if the spirits within were listening, waiting for the story to unfold. Chen Ge stood his ground, his mallet ready, determined to unravel the full scope of her involvement.
"You're pushing the blame onto a dead man? That is your argument?" Chen Ge's tone was sharp, his patience wearing thin as he checked her for additional weapons. Satisfied that she carried no more sharp objects, he relaxed slightly, though his guard remained up. The paring knife lay on the floor, its glint a stark reminder of her earlier intent. The toilet's cold tiles seemed to absorb the tension, the fifth cubicle's dark presence a constant undercurrent in their confrontation. Chen Ge's mind raced, piecing together the clues—the notes accusing Teacher Fan, the carvings of a traumatized girl, the drawing that marked him as a target. The aunt's accusation against Fan Yu's father was plausible, given the evidence of his crimes, but it didn't absolve her of her own role in the tragedy.
"It's true," Fan Yu's aunt said, her voice breaking as she collapsed fully to the floor, the fight draining from her. The truth from years ago poured out, her words heavy with the weight of suppressed guilt. "You must know by now what kind of sick bastard my brother was. It was inside this exact toilet that he caused an innocent girl to go crazy. In the end, I heard that the girl was forced to commit suicide." Her confession was raw, each word a revelation that deepened the horror of Mu Yang High School's history. The toilet's shadows seemed to close in, the fifth cubicle's dark energy pulsing as if responding to the truth being laid bare. Chen Ge's heart sank, the image of the girl's carvings flashing in his mind, her desperate pleas now tied to a tragic end orchestrated by Teacher Fan's actions.
The aunt's voice grew quieter, her story unfolding with painful clarity. "After that happened, my brother became even more unhinged and increasingly paranoid, often claiming that someone was out to get him," she continued, her eyes distant as she relived those dark days. "My sister-in-law finally could not stand it and filed for divorce. But my brother refused to let her leave. Forced into the corner, she threatened my brother, saying that if he didn't agree to the divorce, she would expose his crimes to the world." The revelation painted a vivid picture of a family unraveling, the tension between Fan Yu's parents reaching a breaking point. The toilet's oppressive atmosphere seemed to thicken, the fifth cubicle's shadow looming larger as the aunt's confession brought Chen Ge closer to the heart of the tragedy that had consumed them all.