Chapter 43: The Professor

“Room 13… Room 13…”

Noon, the next day.

After an exhausting night, Yan Yu and his companions finally managed to capture the troublemaking ghost with intellectual disabilities.

At dawn, Su Han returned home. According to her, she had already arranged with the archives room administrator to retrieve all available information on Zhao Qingqing that very morning.

Yan Yu and Master Cao, meanwhile, stayed behind to keep watch over the ghost.

At this moment, Yan Yu was seated on the sofa, pondering the matter of Room 13.

“Master, what are you mumbling about?” Master Cao came in carrying two bags of takeout, just in time to see Yan Yu frowning deeply, and couldn’t help but ask.

“Didn’t you hear? That ghost spent the whole night begging us not to send him to Room 13,” Yan Yu replied with a furrowed brow. “I’m trying to figure out what kind of place Room 13 is to terrify such a fearsome ghost.”

Master Cao set down the takeout and chuckled, “Why bother? Once we send this guy away tonight, we’ll get fifty thousand yuan as a reward.”

“I won’t sleep easy if we don’t get to the bottom of this,” Yan Yu shook his head.

The first tenant had caused all sorts of trouble in this room, and now that Yan Yu had disrupted it, there was no guarantee that the whole family wouldn’t return for more.

Yan Yu had no intention of living in constant unease.

“Speaking of which, after the ghost possessed me yesterday, I had a nightmare this morning,” Master Cao said, picking up a chicken drumstick. “I dreamt I turned into a little kid, was dragged into a hospital room by seven or eight people, and some guy named Professor Yang actually wanted to electrocute me.”

Yan Yu was startled and asked, “And then?”

“And then? I kicked Professor Yang right in the groin, hard!” Master Cao snickered.

Yan Yu pondered for a moment. “What you dreamed this morning might not have been a dream.”

“What do you mean?” The drumstick was already at Master Cao’s lips.

Yan Yu replied quietly, “Yesterday, the ghost possessed your body. After I forced him out, he might have left some memories behind in your soul. What you dreamed wasn’t just a dream—it was something the ghost experienced in his lifetime.”

Thud.

The drumstick fell from Master Cao’s mouth onto the floor. His eyes widened with terror. “You mean that kid was forcibly sent to a hospital room and electrocuted when he was alive?”

“Yes.”

If it had just been a dream, Master Cao wouldn’t have cared, and might even have found it funny, given his temperament.

But knowing it could have been an actual experience lived by someone, the nightmare became horrifying.

Master Cao’s smile faded, replaced by an uncontrollable anger. He said in a low voice, “In that dream, I could feel the kid’s fear and despair, especially his terror of Professor Yang—it was overwhelming.”

“Professor Yang? That also explains why he kept calling me Uncle Yang,” Yan Yu mused.

Suddenly, Yan Yu recalled what Hao Zhuang had said to him yesterday:

“When I was a kid, I wanted to be a professional esports player, but when I told my parents, they almost sent me to an Internet Addiction Treatment Center. They say there’s a Professor Yang there—utterly terrifying. The place is infamous for its electroshock therapy…”

“Internet Addiction Treatment Center!”

Yan Yu’s head snapped up. He asked Master Cao, “Is there an Internet Addiction Treatment Center in Rongcheng?”

“Huh? Let me think… Rongcheng Fourth Hospital has an affiliated clinic—yeah, it’s called the Internet Addiction Treatment Center,” Master Cao replied.

“Can you find any information on it?”

With greasy fingers, Master Cao pulled out his phone, searched for a while, then handed it to Yan Yu.

“Rongcheng Fourth Hospital’s Internet Addiction Treatment Center is a top domestic institution. Its director, Yang Yongsheng, is a psychiatric specialist who enjoys a special national stipend…”

Accompanying the introduction were photos from inside the center.

Some showed children in camouflaged uniforms, standing at rigid attention, their eyes devoid of youthful vitality—just numbness and emptiness.

In other photos, the children appeared to be happily gathered around a middle-aged man, who smiled as he instructed them, but beneath their forced smiles lurked deep-seated fear.

Other images showed children on their knees, clutching their parents’ legs and sobbing uncontrollably, their faces twisted with regret as if one step back would send them into hell, while their parents beamed with satisfaction.

The way those children clung to their parents’ legs was identical to how the ghost had clung to Yan Yu’s last night.

“This is the place,” Yan Yu said gravely. “That ghost must have been an inmate at the treatment center. The ‘Uncle Yang’ he kept mentioning is Yang Yongsheng.”

“In this day and age, how can there still be places like that?” Master Cao wondered aloud. “All young people use the internet—who gets to say what’s ‘addiction’ anyway…”

Yan Yu stood up, took Master Cao’s phone, and walked into the bedroom.

In the dim sunlight, the ghost remained curled in the corner. Yan Yu knelt beside him, showing him the photo on the phone. “Do you recognize this man?”

The ghost glanced at the screen, and his whole body shuddered. Suddenly, he broke into a silly grin. “I know him. Uncle Yang. Uncle Yang can save me.”

“Him? Save you? How? By sending you to Room 13?” Yan Yu pressed.

At the mention of Room 13, the ghost immediately fell to his knees and began wailing again. “Uncle Yang, I was wrong! I don’t want to go to Room 13! I just want to see my parents one more time—please, let me see them!”

Yan Yu’s brows knitted together.

The ghost’s mind was so muddled that questioning him further seemed pointless.

But he had another method.

The Soul’s Grievance Rite.

A confused ghost couldn’t resist Yan Yu. When his palm gently touched the ghost’s forehead, the apparition suddenly grew calm and slowly closed his eyes.

…

“My son spends more than three hours online every day. All he does is play games, and sometimes he even dares to talk back to us!”

A heavily accented, rustic voice sounded in Yan Yu’s ear.

He opened his eyes to see a swarthy middle-aged man, his face etched with worry, glancing nervously in Yan Yu’s direction.

Beside the man stood someone in a white coat, with thick, purplish lips, a heavy pair of glasses perched on a sunken nose, and unkempt hair.

Pinned to his chest was a small badge.

Yang Yongsheng.

Yang Yongsheng smiled and said, “These are classic symptoms of internet addiction. It isolates children, makes them ignore family, and can even cause autism and violent tendencies. But don’t worry—once he’s with us, in less than six months, he’ll be cured and obedient.”

“If that’s true, then Director Yang, you’re our family’s savior—a second parent to our child!”

“No need for thanks. Once you’re with us, you’re an ally. This is my duty… Let’s meet the child.”

Yang Yongsheng walked up to Yan Yu, baring his yellowed teeth. “Your name is Feng Liang, right? Do you know who I am?”

Yan Yu spoke, but he recognized the voice as Feng Liang’s:

“I know—you’re that so-called ‘Professor Yang’ everyone talks about online!”