Chapter 27: Bloodstained Love Letters

"What is that?" I muttered in confusion, glancing down at Xiumu. He was already curled into a trembling ball, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

The phone screen displayed the figure in the red dress still drifting outside the door, showing no signs of leaving.

I took a deep breath, trying to recall every rumor I had heard about the campus. Yet, none mentioned anything about a red dress.

"Calm down. At least we're safe for now." With the door firmly blocked and no way out, I decided to search the room. "The deceased, Shen Mengting, lived in bed number one. For boarders, the dorm room is often a place to keep secrets. I should find something here."

It wasn't that I was particularly brave; rather, the Hell Show phone continued streaming live. Besides the eerie scene outside the door, it was filled with viewers' comments scrolling rapidly.

"Wow, the cowardly streamer chickened out and left the broadcast behind!"

"Where's the streamer? What's he doing? Respect your live room, man!"

"Holy crap, what is that floating back and forth? It's freaking me out!"

"Praise be to the gods! Protect me, Great Buddha!"

"What does 'protected by the comments' even mean?"

The barrage of humorous remarks from the audience took the edge off the terror of the red dress lingering outside.

Dorm 4118 housed four girls. Their beds were on the second level, with desks and wardrobes on the first.

"Shen Mengting was on bed one." I opened the corresponding wardrobe. Most belongings had been cleared out, leaving behind only a couple of worn-out garments.

I checked the pockets of the clothes but found nothing. My gaze shifted to the desk. Pulling open a drawer, I found a book buried under scraps of paper and used test sheets: "Love Disguised as Solitude."

"Love is unbearable to face; only solitude is the truth. You are dangerous, cunning, leaving me only desolation and sorrow." I curled my lips in disdain. This didn't seem like the kind of book a high school student would enjoy.

Opening to the first page, I found a delicate bookmark with writing on it. On the front, it read: "Your loyal knight, Guo Junjie."

Interestingly, the back bore another line in graceful handwriting: "My adorable slave."

The book was pristine, and the bookmark, nestled in the preface, hadn't been moved. It seemed the owner hadn't cared for it.

Flipping through the book casually, a few letters fell out.

Picking one up, I noticed dates and names on the envelopes. These must have been love letters from Guo Junjie to Shen Mengting.

The envelopes were intact, their seals unbroken. Shen Mengting hadn't read any of them. Poor Guo Junjie, clinging on silently, wasn't even worth being a backup choice. To Shen Mengting, he was just a tool, an obedient slave.

I arranged the unopened letters by their postmarked dates. The first was sent six years ago.

Opening it, as expected, I found an earnest confession penned by a young boy, mustering all his courage.

Though the words seemed naive and laughable to me, they brimmed with heartfelt sincerity for Guo Junjie at the time.

The second and third letters were also confessions, but by the fourth, the tone began to shift.

"Why did you give away the gift I gave you? Why do you make me run errands for him? Why do you make me hide in the closet and watch you two being intimate? You purposely show off your body in front of him. Don't you realize how much it tortures me?"

Reading this, I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "To destroy someone, you must first drive them mad. Shen Mengting was slowly eroding Guo Junjie's sanity."

The fifth letter, sent five years ago, took a desperate tone:

"I'm sorry, it's all my fault! Please don't ignore me. I'm willing to give you everything—even to be your dog! This school is full of monsters, but you're different. I can't live without you. I'll do whatever you say!"

Guo Junjie's pleas reflected a broken spirit. By then, Shen Mengting was likely in a confirmed relationship with someone else and had grown annoyed with her obedient shadow.

"You wrote with such sincerity, but she didn't even open your letters." Shen Mengting had never taken Guo Junjie seriously. The unopened letters, tucked away and buried under wastepaper, proved it.

"What a stubborn fool," I muttered, sensing an impending tragedy.

The sixth letter was filled with resentment:

"Enough! I can't take it anymore! Shen Mengting, if you keep being with him, don't blame me for doing something you'll regret forever! I swear I'll destroy you both!"

"Madness paves the way for destruction. What could Guo Junjie have done?" I couldn't guess, so I opened the seventh letter.

"See it now? Blood stains the entire desk. The police came, but who would suspect me? The weakest, most overlooked one among you all turned out to be the killer! Haha! Shen Mengting, I'll make you regret it. I'll kill every scumbag you seduced! I am your knight, and you are my most noble princess!"

The letter, full of maniacal ranting, conjured the image of a frail boy standing before me, clutching a knife in hysteria.

The eighth letter contained a startling revelation:

"You asked what I'd do for you? I'd give you my life! The small gift in the envelope is proof of my resolve!"

Shaking the envelope, I found a tiny object wrapped in layers of plastic. Under the phone's light, I saw it clearly—a severed finger!

"This kid must've been possessed!" The severed finger, though decayed and discolored, was unmistakable.

Despite the grim discovery, Shen Mengting's indifference likely persisted. She hadn't even bothered to open the envelope.

Finally, I opened the last letter.

"Shen Mengting, I know you never cared about me. I get it now. I won't ask for anything more. You're just as awful as the rest of them—no, worse!"

Guo Junjie had finally accepted reality. Even self-harm couldn't elicit sympathy or kindness. The world, as he saw it, offered him nothing but malice.

"Take my final gift—not just for you, but for everyone who tormented me! I drank the antidote gifted by the Buddha. I will drown myself in the purification tank. I'll curse you all with the devil's wrath! I'll watch you suffer from the depths of hell!"

After reading all nine letters, I felt both horrified and sorrowful.

If someone at school had shown Guo Junjie kindness, if Shen Mengting had opened even one letter, this tragedy might have been averted.

But there are no "ifs."

Reflecting on the final letter, one phrase stood out: "the antidote gifted by the Buddha."

"Buddha? I've never heard of any Buddhist deity granting someone a wish that would result in such carnage. Could he be referring to the Two-Faced Buddha?"

The Two-Faced Buddha was notorious for its actions at the Peaceful Inn, which made the connection plausible. But what link could there be between the Peaceful Inn and Xinhu High School?

These letters revealed much, yet raised even more questions.

"Imagine being such a fool—willing to be a woman's dog," Xiumu scoffed as he stood by, his tone dripping with disdain for Guo Junjie, as if mocking him came naturally.

"He was pitiful," I replied. Avoiding judgment was a personal principle of mine. Most monstrous acts are rooted in twisted life stories.

"What do you think he did to take revenge on the whole school?" Xiumu poked at the severed finger on the table. "Gross."

"Isn't it clear? He poisoned the water supply, then jumped into the purification tank. Everyone who drank the water lost their minds. I bet that's what happened to those people who jumped from the infirmary," I said, smiling faintly as I pocketed the ninth letter. "Don't you agree?"

Xiumu nodded earnestly. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're not that sharp," I chuckled, my tone casual. "If you were, you wouldn't have drunk the school's water that day."

"Fair point."

The air in the dorm suddenly grew heavy, as though even the drop of a pin would echo.