Regardless of how Bingying endured those agonizing few dozens of seconds, we finally reached the fifteenth floor. With a crisp ‘ding,’ the elevator doors slowly parted. Stepping out with a sense of anticipation, Luo Tianchen was met with… an iron door.
This… if Luo Tianchen wasn’t mistaken, it appeared to be a vault door, typically used by banks for security. It was said to be an ultra-metal alloy door, capable of withstanding even TNT. Why, then, was such a formidable barrier present in a school library?
Ye Dieyu silently approached the door. With practiced ease, she completed a sequence of card swipes, facial scans, and fingerprint verifications. A series of mechanical whirs and clicks followed, and the formidable door began to slide open on its own.
Before them lay a scene that felt utterly otherworldly.
Books. Nothing but books. Beechwood bookshelves stretched out in neat, endless rows, disappearing into the distance.
To the left of the door, spacious private rooms were arranged. Each was fully equipped with a bed, computer, air conditioning, dining area, and even a private restroom. From their windows, one could gaze upon breathtaking city views. It was no exaggeration to call them miniature luxury presidential suites.
“No wonder you chose to be a librarian here. I originally thought it would be such a grueling job, but the benefits are incredible!” Luo Tianchen exclaimed, clicking his tongue in admiration.
“It’s not as good as you imagine,” Bingying countered. “I used to work here too, but I couldn’t stand it for long.”
“Oh? Why? Are you afraid of heights?”
“Of course not! It’s because it’s too quiet, like living deep in an ancient forest… No, wait, it’s even worse. There’s no other living soul here besides you, just an endless sea of books.”
As if recalling a terrifying experience, Bingying shivered, hugging her shoulders. “While I’ve spent long periods alone before, it pales in comparison to working here…”
“Is it really that frightening?” Luo Tianchen asked, skeptical. A place where one could do whatever they pleased, undisturbed by anyone, sounded like his personal paradise.
“That’s only because you haven’t experienced it! I myself quit after just half a month, and most other students couldn’t even last a few days!” Bingying retorted.
“Oh, really? Then what about Ye Dieyu? How does she fit in? If I recall correctly, she’s been working here for over a year, hasn’t she?”
“Well…” Bingying was momentarily speechless. “She’s just… special!”
“Right, right, I get it,” Luo Tianchen said dismissively, attempting to end the conversation. However, Bingying remained persistent.
“Hey, hey, Ye Dieyu, quickly tell him what it feels like to be here!”
“Emptiness.” Ye Dieyu’s response was succinct.
“See? See? I told you it was terrible!”
“Uh… if that’s the case, then why have you been able to stay here for so long?”
“High credits. Got used to it.” Ye Dieyu’s words were as brief as ever.
Well, she was Ye Dieyu, after all, the one secretly dubbed “the robot” by her classmates. If it were anyone, she might truly be able to endure staying here for a long time.
Luo Tianchen’s mind involuntarily conjured an image: the apocalypse arrived, all humanity perished, and only Ye Dieyu remained, silently watching Earth’s final sunset from this very room… How vivid that image felt!
“But with so many books, how are we supposed to find anything?” Bingying’s words broke Luo Tianchen’s train of thought.
“Huh? Didn’t you used to be a librarian here too?” Luo Tianchen asked, surprised.
“I was just an assistant. The one who managed this place before was an old man, and like Ye Dieyu, he wasn’t much of a talker. All I could do was help him organize the book lists.
Not long after I resigned, I heard news of his death. It seemed he was simply too old… Since then, Ye Dieyu has been in charge of the library.”
“Oh? Is that so? Then, Ye Dieyu, where should I look for what I need?” Luo Tianchen tried asking her again.
“SB Section, Row 233.”
“Huh? Is that where it’s stored? Thank you!”
She truly was a genius girl, having enrolled at just twelve years old. Her memory was undeniably exceptional.
“SB Section, 210… 212… Ah, found it. Row 233, is it?”
The bookshelf’s label clearly displayed the large characters: “Historical Urban Structures and Architecture of Xingjiang City.”
“It seems this is the right place,” Bingying said.
“Hmm, I didn’t realize it was categorized so precisely,” Luo Tianchen nodded. “So, we’re looking for a complete map of Xingjiang City from 2009? 2009… 2009…”
Even with two of them working together, finding what they needed amidst the vast sea of books proved challenging for the moment. Seizing the opportunity during their search, Luo Tianchen struck up a conversation with Bingying.
“Speaking of all these books, where did the school board even acquire them? There must be at least a million volumes, right? How did they even get them in here…”
“I don’t know. They say the library already had many books when the school was first founded, but most of them were gradually added later.”
“I remember our school’s history spans over a century, doesn’t it? So that’s it. No wonder there are so many rare editions here. It makes a little more sense now why this floor is secured with a vault door.”
“Yes, on the surface, that’s how it appears. But there’s a long-standing rumor within our school, Tianchen. Have you heard it?”
“What is it? One of the Seven School Mysteries?” Luo Tianchen asked, intrigued.
“Something like that. After all, this school has been around for so long, it’s bound to have many inexplicable occurrences. In fact, even before you, some students claimed to have discovered a hidden seventeenth floor in the library, which is a type of ghost story.
However, the tale I’m about to tell is a chilling rumor concerning the library’s sixteenth floor: ‘The Sealed Monster.'”
“‘The Sealed Monster’?”
“Mhm, mhm. It’s a story few students even know about,” Bingying said. Seeing Luo Tianchen’s astonished expression, she proudly held up a finger. “The rumor goes that the door at the entrance isn’t to prevent intruders, but to keep the monster inside from escaping.
The librarian’s main duty is to guard this monster. They say the previous librarian was even killed by it.”
“Who even came up with such a ridiculous rumor? Look at Ye Dieyu; she’s been here for ages, and nothing has happened to her. And where would a monster even hide?”
“Hmm… maybe it exists in that hidden seventeenth floor?”
“Found it?” Ye Dieyu appeared silently at the end of the bookshelf, startling both Luo Tianchen and Bingying.
“N-not yet.” Bingying averted her gaze, a hint of guilt in her demeanor.
“Is that so,” Ye Dieyu said blandly, her thoughts completely unreadable. She meticulously scanned along the shelves, seemingly helping them search.
“Hey, don’t tell Ye Dieyu what we just talked about, okay? I’m afraid she might get some strange ideas,” Bingying whispered to Luo Tianchen.
“I understand, I understand,” Luo Tianchen nodded. He then turned to Ye Dieyu, who was still diligently searching, and asked, “Um, do you know why a bank vault door was installed here?”
“Hey! You!” Bingying gasped in alarm, but it was too late to stop him.
“Relax, I won’t mention what we just discussed. I’m just curious,” Luo Tianchen reassured her.
“To prevent people from entering,” Ye Dieyu replied.
Luo Tianchen shot Bingying a ‘See? I told you so’ look. He then pressed on, “It’s because there are many invaluable rare editions hidden here, isn’t it?”
“More than just value. There is something here that far surpasses its worth as a mere collection item,” Ye Dieyu stated, uncharacteristically uttering a complete sentence.
“What does that mean?”
“Very dangerous. Afraid people will get hurt.”
“Uh…” This time, it was Bingying’s turn to look smug.
‘Could there truly be a monster sealed away here?’ Luo Tianchen mused inwardly.
“Mmmph…”
Luo Tianchen instinctively looked towards the source of the sound. He saw Ye Dieyu, dressed in casual clothes, straining to reach a book on the highest shelf.
She looked surprisingly cute. Wait, could she not reach it?
Perhaps Luo Tianchen should offer his help.
Just as Luo Tianchen was about to extend his hand, he caught sight of a subtle hint of frustration on her face and paused.
Though slight, having spent two years with her, Luo Tianchen knew he couldn’t be mistaken about this change.
Luo Tianchen had always found it difficult to interact with Ye Dieyu. She was excessively silent, more machine-like than human. Compounded by his own quiet nature, their time alone often devolved into awkward silence. In school, perhaps only the President truly understood her.
…For a moment, Luo Tianchen found himself recalling his past with Yue.
Luo Tianchen sighed, walked over, and gently lifted her. “This should do it, right?”
She was surprisingly light. That was Luo Tianchen’s sole thought.
“Here.” Ye Dieyu showed no discomfort at being casually picked up. She swiftly pulled out two thick books and handed them to Luo Tianchen.
“Mhm, thank you.” Luo Tianchen set her back down, attempting to give her a smile reminiscent of the President’s.
“Mhm.” Ye Dieyu nodded, then returned to her desk in one of the private rooms, where a book written in a foreign language lay open before her. Luo Tianchen glanced at it, but immediately gave up trying to decipher it.
‘What country’s book was that? The script was utterly unfamiliar,’ Luo Tianchen silently quipped. He then handed one of the books to Bingying. “Here, you help me look through this too.”
“Huh? Isn’t this from 2010? But aren’t you looking for the 2009 city planning map?” Bingying asked.
“The 2009 one is with me. Let’s just look through both, for now.”
For the next ten minutes, an unusual stillness settled over the entire sixteenth floor.
“No, this isn’t working. I can’t find anything about Maohua Elementary School,” Bingying declared, deflated after a long while. “Are you sure you didn’t misremember?”
“No, I didn’t.” Luo Tianchen calmly pointed to his book’s record. “Look, it’s right here.”
“But the same location in my book clearly shows Moonlight Community? Did I misremember?”
“No, that shouldn’t be it.” Luo Tianchen shook his head, taking Bingying’s book and quickly flipping through it. “Just as I suspected.”
“Hmm? What is it?” Bingying leaned in curiously. Luo Tianchen patiently pointed out the discrepancies in the books.
“Look, these few places underwent changes within just one year, yet the records don’t mention any plans for alteration. It’s undeniably strange.”
“Are you talking about the Witch’s Game?” Bingying immediately grasped his thought.
“Precisely. December 24th, 2009, the day I was gravely injured, and the Witch’s Game held around that time. The records show no changes to Maohua Elementary until the end of that year. However, the city planning map for the following year completely erased it, as if it never existed. There’s no trace of it in subsequent years’ records either, yet no one noticed anything amiss. The only explanation must be the power of the Witch. It seems we’re quite lucky; we found a clue on our first try. If we had gone to the police station or somewhere similar, we’d likely only get a ‘no record of this incident’ response,” Luo Tianchen explained. His passive luck MAX had finally come into play once more.
“But, Tianchen, didn’t you say the clue might be with your ex-girlfriend? If that’s the case, how are we going to find her?” Bingying asked, emphasizing the word ‘ex.’
“I don’t know. We’ll take it one step at a time. For now, let’s just note down these locations and then search for them one by one,” Luo Tianchen suggested.