7000+words part one
As Wang Xin's eyes traced the haunting words scrawled across the white paper, her emotions surged like a tide breaking against a crumbling dam, each letter in Chen Yalin's familiar handwriting a piercing reminder of the friend she had lost and the guilt that had chained her to that tragedy for years, her fragile composure unraveling in the face of the Pen Spirit's spectral confession. Her slender frame leaned forward, drawn inexorably toward the ballpoint pen in Chen Ge's hand, her movements slow and tentative, as if reaching for a lifeline that could pull her from the abyss of her nightmares, her translucent skin catching the dim light in a way that made her seem almost ethereal, a ghost in her own right. The act of reaching out was a quiet act of defiance against the fear that had held her captive, her trembling fingers brushing against the pen's cool surface, a gesture that carried the weight of years spent in isolation, haunted by the specter of a prank gone fatally wrong, her heart pounding with a mix of dread and desperate hope that this moment might finally offer the closure she had been denied since the tragedy at Mu Yang High School.
Her cold fingers slid between Chen Ge's hand and the pen, their chill a stark contrast to the warmth of human contact, her arm quivering with an intensity that suggested this was the first time in years she had felt another's presence so acutely, as if the simple act of touch was a bridge to a world she had long been severed from, her body trembling with the weight of emotions too vast for words. She opened her mouth, struggling to give voice to the turmoil within, but her voice failed her, silenced by the years of suppressed grief and guilt that had festered in the wake of Chen Yalin's death, leaving her to communicate through the raw vulnerability of her gaze, which locked onto the pen as if it held the key to her salvation. The three minutes granted by Doctor Gao and Madam Gu neared their end, and the pen stirred once more, guided by an unseen force, tracing two simple words across the paper—"Good night"—their brevity a poignant farewell that carried the weight of finality, a spectral blessing from the Pen Spirit that sought to release Wang Xin from the chains of her torment, the words a gentle whisper from a friend who had never meant to cause her pain.
The pen fell still, its task complete, and Chen Ge began to chant the incantation to release the Pen Spirit, his voice a low, steady cadence that filled the room with a solemn rhythm, each word a thread in the delicate ritual to sever the spirit's tether to the mortal plane: "Pen Spirit, Pen Spirit, you are my spirit from my previous life, and I am your spirit in this life. If you wish to go, then please go ahead." To his surprise, Wang Xin mirrored his words, her lips moving in sync as if drawn by an involuntary compulsion, her voice barely audible yet resonant with a shared purpose, as if the ritual had awakened a part of her long buried beneath the weight of her trauma, her participation a silent acknowledgment of the bond she had shared with Chen Yalin. The synchronized chant was a bridge across time, uniting the living and the dead in a moment of shared release, the words a final act of communion that sought to free both Wang Xin and the Pen Spirit from the cycle of guilt and grief that had bound them to Mu Yang High School's tragic past.
As the final syllable of the incantation faded, the dam holding Wang Xin's emotions shattered, a torrent of suppressed pain and relief flooding through her, the needle of guilt that had pierced her heart for so long finally dislodged by the Pen Spirit's absolution, her body trembling as she gripped Chen Ge's hands with a desperate strength that belied her frail appearance. She turned her face aside, shielding her expression from view as tears streamed down her cheeks, her silence a testament to the depth of her suffering, the act of hiding her pain a reflex born of years spent guarding her wounds from the world, yet her grip on Chen Ge's hands was a silent plea for connection, a lifeline to anchor her in this moment of reckoning. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air heavy with the weight of her release, as if the very walls bore witness to the unravelling of a trauma that had defined her existence, her fingers clinging to Chen Ge as if he were the only tether keeping her from slipping back into the abyss of her nightmares.
"The lights of the world have been extinguished, and everyone has gone silent, what am I to do all alone? Every feeling is wrong, and every road leads to a dead-end. I don't understand what I have done wrong, but I seemed to have turned into a monster," Wang Xin whispered, her voice breaking through the silence like a fragile melody, each word a raw confession of the isolation and guilt that had consumed her since Chen Yalin's death, her words spilling forth as if the Pen Spirit's message had unlocked a floodgate within her soul. She leaned forward, her gaze fixed on the words scrawled across the paper, their truth a mirror to the pain she had carried, her voice dwindling to a near-whisper as she continued, "Help me, drag me out from this world. I want release from this pain, help me…" Her plea was a desperate cry for salvation, a yearning to be freed from the spectral weight that had haunted her dreams and scarred her arms, the words a testament to the depth of her suffering, her voice fading as she surrendered to the exhaustion of her confession, her body sagging against the mattress as if unburdened for the first time in years.
Her forehead pressed against the back of Chen Ge's hands, the contact a grounding force as her body slumped onto the mattress, her breathing slowing into a steady rhythm that suggested a peace she had not known in years, the weight of her trauma momentarily lifted by the Pen Spirit's absolution and the ritual's completion. The room's oppressive silence softened, replaced by the gentle cadence of her breaths, each one a sign that Wang Xin had finally found respite, her body curling into the mattress as if embracing a long-denied sleep, the spectral chains that had bound her to Mu Yang High School's tragedy loosened by the truth that had emerged through the pen's ghostly script. Chen Ge remained still, his hands steady beneath her touch, his heart a tumult of relief and solemnity as he witnessed the transformation, knowing that this moment marked the fulfillment of the Pen Spirit's wish and the beginning of Wang Xin's healing, a delicate victory forged in the crucible of the supernatural and the human.
"Good night," Chen Ge murmured, echoing the Pen Spirit's final words, his voice a soft benediction that sealed the ritual's closure, a farewell to both the spirit and the pain it had left behind, the words carrying a quiet hope that Wang Xin's sleep would be free of the nightmares that had plagued her for so long. He rose slowly, careful not to disturb her newfound peace, his eyes lingering on her serene expression, a stark contrast to the torment that had defined her moments before, the mattress now a haven rather than a prison. Doctor Gao and Madam Gu, still hovering near the doorway, watched in stunned silence, their skepticism giving way to awe as they witnessed the girl's transformation, the air heavy with the unspoken realization that Chen Ge's unorthodox approach had achieved what years of therapy and medication could not, a moment of healing that bridged the living and the dead in a way they could scarcely comprehend, leaving Wang Xin to rest at last in the embrace of a night untainted by fear.
Chen Ge carefully withdrew his hand, his gaze lingering on Wang Xin's serene, sleeping face. Her features were soft and peaceful, framed by loose strands of hair that clung to her cheek. His eyes drifted lower, drawn to the pronounced curves of her body, particularly the generous swell of her breasts, which strained against the thin fabric of her top. They were large, almost exaggeratedly so, their shape distorted yet mesmerizing under the delicate material. A sudden thought flickered through his mind, igniting a spark of desire. There were still thirty minutes before their session would conclude, plenty of time, he reasoned, to claim a different kind of compensation for his services. The idea of "collecting medical bills" in this intimate, forbidden way sent a thrill coursing through him, stirring a primal urge that he struggled to suppress. He paused, his breath catching as he considered the implications, but the temptation was overwhelming, urging him to act on the impulse that now pulsed through his veins.
With deliberate care, Chen Ge gently turned Wang Xin onto her back, her body pliant under his touch. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically with each slow, steady breath, the twin mounds of her breasts shifting slightly with the motion. They were impossibly full, their weight evident even through the flimsy top that did little to conceal their allure. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes tracing the contours of her form, before placing his right hand on one of her breasts. The sensation was immediate and electric—the thin fabric offered no resistance, allowing him to feel the exquisite elasticity of her flesh beneath his palm. He began to knead gently, his fingers exploring the soft, yielding curves with a reverence that bordered on obsession. The friction of his hand against the fabric created a subtle, tantalizing heat, a strange yet intoxicating sensation that made his pulse quicken. His fingers moved with deliberate care, circling her nipples, which he pinched lightly, teasing them into hardened peaks. After a few moments, he noticed a subtle change—they softened slightly, as if surrendering to his touch, yet Wang Xin remained lost in her dreams, her breathing steady but slightly deeper now, oblivious to the liberties he was taking.
Chen Ge's attention shifted lower, his gaze drawn to the alluring curve of Wang Xin's hips and the intimate space between her thighs. Through the tight fabric of her shorts, he could discern the soft, plump outline of her vagina, its fullness evident even through the layers of clothing. His hand moved with a slow, deliberate grace, tracing the contours of her body as he savored the sensation of her warmth beneath his fingertips. After a few gentle strokes, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and carefully tugged them down, revealing a pair of delicate, lace-trimmed panties. The light-colored fabric was translucent, stretched taut over the voluptuous swell of her sex, leaving little to the imagination. The tightly closed base of her thighs framed the tender flesh, and through the sheer material, he could make out the faint outline of her clitoris and the delicate folds of her labia. The sight was almost too much, a vision of raw, unfiltered sensuality that made his breath hitch. He paused, drinking in the sight, his fingers trembling slightly as he resisted the urge to rush, wanting to prolong the moment of anticipation.
His hand reached out, fingers brushing lightly over the sweet, sensitive spot at the center of her panties. His middle finger slid gently along the crease between her labia, savoring the delicate, silken texture beneath the thin fabric. Gradually, her body began to respond, subtle changes betraying her unconscious arousal. The center of her panties grew visibly damp, the fabric clinging to her skin as her vaginal fluids seeped through, creating a glistening sheen. The sight was intoxicating—her plump, tender labia parted slightly, the soaked lace weaving itself into the delicate folds, accentuating their shape. The comparison to a ripe, juicy peach was almost too apt, her flesh glistening with a lustrous allure that was both voluptuous and irresistible. Wang Xin's body began to stir, her hips squirming faintly as if responding to his touch in her sleep. Her breathing grew heavier, punctuated by soft, nasal sounds that hinted at pleasure. Her face flushed a delicate pink, her eyes still closed, her lips parting slightly to reveal a glimpse of her small, bright mouth, exuding a lazy, sensual aura that made Chen Ge's heart race.
As her thighs trembled intermittently, the crotch of her panties dug deeper into the inviting crevice between her labia, the fabric now thoroughly soaked and clinging to her skin. Chen Ge pressed his fingers more firmly against the damp strip of cloth, relishing the wet, fiery heat that radiated from her core. Her breathing quickened further, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips, a sound that sent a shiver
Chen Ge positioned himself with deliberate precision, his hardened penis poised at the entrance of Wang Xin's glistening, voluptuous vagina. The sight of her lush, inviting folds, framed by the soft, plump contours of her mons pubis, was almost overwhelming. Her labia, like two tender, silken clams, parted slightly as he pressed forward, their delicate warmth enveloping the sensitive tip of his glans. With a slow, measured thrust, he entered her, savoring the exquisite sensation of her flesh yielding to him. The slick, juicy texture of her inner walls gripped him tightly, sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. From her lips, still heavy with the haze of sleep, came a soft, involuntary moan: "Mmm... so comfortable..." The sound was a sultry whisper, a testament to the pleasure coursing through her unconscious form. Each gentle thrust deepened his arousal, the rhythmic motion of his hips creating a tantalizing friction that made his pulse race. He watched her face, serene yet flushed, as her body responded instinctively, her breathing growing heavier with each subtle movement.
Chen Ge could tell Wang Xin was caught in the liminal space between sleep and waking, her body responding to his touch with an uninhibited sensuality. Her vagina enveloped his glans perfectly, its slippery, velvety warmth creating a sensation so exquisite it bordered on intoxicating. He thrust slowly, easing himself halfway inside before withdrawing, only to press forward again in a deliberate, teasing rhythm. The shallow, gentle thrusts allowed him to savor every nuance of her body's response—the way her walls clung to him, the subtle tremors that rippled through her as he moved. After just a few strokes, Wang Xin's moans grew more pronounced, her voice a soft, melodic "Mmm... Mmm..." that echoed through the quiet room. Her sounds were raw, unfiltered, a primal expression of pleasure that stirred something deep within him. Her body arched slightly, as if seeking more of him, and he felt a surge of desire to push her further into the throes of ecstasy. The slickness of her arousal coated him, making each movement smoother, more seamless, as he reveled in the intimate connection between them.
After a time, Wang Xin's eyes fluttered open, her gaze hazy and unfocused as she emerged from the depths of sleep. Her eyes locked onto his, a spark of recognition flickering within them as she whispered, "Yalin..." Her voice was soft, laced with a tenderness and longing that suggested she mistook him for someone else—perhaps the Pen Fairy, a figure from her dreams or memories. The name hung in the air, charged with an intimacy that only heightened the forbidden nature of their encounter. Chen Ge, undeterred by her confusion, chose to ignore the misnomer, his desire overriding any hesitation. He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her soft, yielding form as he pressed himself against her. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he buried his entire length inside her, the slick heat of her vagina swallowing him completely. Wang Xin let out a sharp, "Ah!"—a cry that was equal parts surprise and pleasure—as her body adjusted to the sudden intrusion. Her walls clamped tightly around him, their warmth and slickness enveloping him in a way that made his head spin. He began to thrust vigorously, each movement driving him deeper, the rhythm building as her body responded with increasing fervor.
Wang Xin's body was a vision of sensual decadence, her plump curves soft and pliable beneath his touch. Pressing against her felt like sinking into a luxurious expanse of silk or brocade, her skin smooth and slippery with the sheen of arousal. The sensation was intoxicating, a heady blend of warmth and softness that made every point of contact electric. Her large buttocks lifted slightly with each of his thrusts, her moans—"Um... Um... Um..."—a rhythmic cadence that matched the tempo of his movements. Her body seemed to melt into his, her softness yielding to his firmness in a dance of raw, unfiltered desire. As he continued to thrust, Wang Xin's arms reached out, wrapping around him in a desperate, clinging embrace. He welcomed her touch, his own hands gripping her hips as he drove himself deeper into her tight, slippery vagina. The intensity of their connection was palpable, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through them both, their bodies moving in perfect, primal synchrony.
Under Chen Ge's relentless rhythm, Wang Xin's breathing grew rapid and ragged, her face flushed with a deep, rosy heat that spread across her cheeks and down her neck. Her body was a canvas of arousal, every curve and contour responding to his touch. In a moment of bold inspiration, Chen Ge reached for a ballpoint pen nearby, its smooth, cylindrical shape sparking a new idea. With careful precision, he pressed it against her anus, the cool tip eliciting a shudder from her. As he thrust into her vagina with increasing urgency, he mirrored the motion with the pen, its intrusion into her tight, sensitive passage sending a jolt of pleasure through her. The dual stimulation seemed to awaken something within her, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. Chen Ge could sense the Pen Fairy's excitement—or perhaps it was Wang Xin's own, her confusion blending with raw desire. His penis remained buried deep inside her, each thrust piercing her cervix, causing her vagina and intestines to contract violently in response. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, her body writhing beneath him as she surrendered to the pleasure.
As Chen Ge intensified his assault, penetrating her from both sides with unrelenting force, Wang Xin's entire body convulsed in a series of spasms, her limbs trembling uncontrollably. Her hair, once neatly arranged, now fell in disheveled waves around her face, framing her flushed, pleasure-stricken expression. Her eyes were tightly shut, her lips parted as soft, desperate moans spilled from her. Her plump, alabaster breasts swayed with each of his powerful thrusts, their soft weight brushing against his firm chest, igniting his desire further. The friction of their bodies was electric, each movement fueling the fire that consumed them both. Her responses were visceral, her moans growing louder, more insistent, as she teetered on the edge of ecstasy. The sight of her, so utterly lost in the throes of pleasure, drove Chen Ge to push harder, his own arousal reaching a fever pitch as he claimed her body with unrelenting passion.
Chen Ge spread Wang Xin's legs wider, his hands gripping her thighs as he angled himself to thrust even deeper. His penis slammed repeatedly against her uterine wall, the force so intense it felt as though he might pierce her very core. Her brow furrowed, her teeth clenched tightly as waves of pleasure and pain intertwined, creating a heady cocktail of sensation that left her gasping. Her entire body trembled, her moans now tinged with a desperate edge, almost as if she were on the verge of tears. "Ah... ah... gently... you're... fuckin' me... oh oh..." she gasped, her voice breaking with the intensity of the moment. The rawness of her words, the way her body shook beneath him, only spurred him on, his thrusts growing more forceful as he drove her toward the peak of ecstasy. Her vagina clenched around him, her muscles contracting in rhythmic pulses that mirrored the frantic beating of his heart. The room was filled with the sounds of their shared pleasure—her moans, his heavy breathing, the slick, rhythmic slap of their bodies colliding in a dance of raw, unbridled desire.
Chen Ge deliberately ignored the faint whispers of Wang Xin's voice, his focus consumed by the primal rhythm of his hips as he thrust into her with unrestrained ferocity. Each movement was a declaration of dominance, his thick, rigid cock plunging deeper into the slick, welcoming heat of her vagina. Wang Xin's body responded instinctively, her entire form tensing as her plump, curvaceous buttocks arched upward, meeting his thrusts with an eager, almost desperate enthusiasm. The sight of her yielding to him, her body moving in sync with his relentless pace, sent a surge of raw desire coursing through him. His movements grew bolder, more expansive, his hips snapping forward with a force that seemed to shake the very air around them. The speed of his thrusts intensified, each one more savage than the last, as if he sought to merge their bodies completely, to push beyond the boundaries of flesh and into a realm of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The sensation of her tight, slippery walls gripping him was intoxicating, a heady mix of resistance and surrender that drove him to the edge of control, his body trembling with the effort to maintain his rhythm.
The connection between them was electric, their bodies entwined in a dance of raw, primal ecstasy. Wang Xin's vagina clung to Chen Ge's cock with a possessive intensity, her slick, velvety walls sucking him in with each thrust, creating a sensation so exquisite it felt like a tidal wave crashing over them both. The pleasure was relentless, a surging, roaring force that lifted them to dizzying heights before plunging them into the depths of sensation. Their bodies moved as one, fused in a symphony of heat and friction, each thrust sending shockwaves of delight through their entwined forms. As Chen Ge's arousal reached its zenith, he felt the pressure building within him, a molten heat gathering in his scrotum. With a final, powerful thrust, he succumbed to the overwhelming urge, his body convulsing as he ejaculated. The release was explosive, a torrent of boiling semen erupting from him like a flood bursting through a dam. The streams shot forth with the force of a high-pressure jet, slamming into the depths of Wang Xin's vagina, flooding her core with his essence. The intensity of the moment was almost unbearable, each pulse of his release sending shivers through his entire being as he surrendered to the ecstasy.
Wang Xin's body reacted instantaneously, her form seizing as if struck by a bolt of lightning. Her white, slender arms wrapped tightly around Chen Ge's sweat-slicked back, her nails digging into his skin as she clung to him with desperate fervor. Her long, graceful thighs encircled his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, as if to anchor herself against the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. Her moans—"Ah... ah... ah..."—were raw, sobbing cries that seemed to be wrenched from the deepest recesses of her throat, each sound a testament to the pleasure consuming her. Her face was a vision of abandon, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her lips parted as she gasped for air. The rhythmic contractions of her vagina began almost immediately, each pulse accompanied by a tender, nasal moan that echoed through the room. Chen Ge recognized the sound instantly—the unmistakable melody of her orgasm, a sound more beautiful than any symphony, born from the peak of human happiness. Her body trembled beneath him, her curves quivering with each wave of pleasure, her eyes fluttering shut as she surrendered completely to the moment.
The intensity of Wang Xin's orgasm was unlike anything Chen Ge had ever witnessed, her vagina contracting with a ferocity that surpassed her earlier spasms. Each tightening of her walls was a powerful, almost violent grip, as if her body sought to claim him entirely, to hold him captive within her lust-filled core. The rhythmic tension and release were exquisite, her muscles clamping down on his cock with such force that it slowed the release of his semen, drawing out the pleasure in torturous, lingering streams. Chen Ge's breath caught in his throat, his back straightening as he poured every ounce of his strength into his thrusts, pressing himself deeper into her. His glans pried open her cervix, embedding itself in the delicate, innermost sanctum of her womb, each pulse of his release like a sharp arrow piercing her fertile depths. The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of warmth and pleasure that seemed to water her very essence, filling her with abundant, radiant ecstasy. Wang Xin's moans grew louder, more desperate, her body writhing beneath him as she rode the crest of her climax, her entire being consumed by the intensity of their union.
In the throes of ecstasy, Chen Ge lost all sense of time and place, the world around him fading into insignificance as he surrendered to the wild, untamed desire coursing through him. His cock, still hard and pulsing within Wang Xin's vagina, continued to release stream after stream of semen, each spurt a testament to the depth of his arousal. Her plump, yielding flesh enveloped him, a perfect vessel for his passion, radiating heat and softness that drove him to the brink of madness. He thrust until he was utterly spent, his body trembling with exhaustion as the waves of his orgasm slowly subsided. Collapsing onto her quivering form, he lay panting, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Wang Xin's body, still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax, was warm and soft beneath him, her skin slick with sweat and arousal. Eventually, he rose, his gaze falling on her unconscious form—she had long since passed out, overwhelmed by the intensity of her orgasm. A satisfied nod curved his lips as he carefully withdrew the ballpoint pen from her tender anus, its surface slick with her juices. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he placed it briefly in her mouth to clean it, then tucked it away. He gently redressed her, ensuring her clothing was neatly in place, but chose to leave his semen within her womb, a lingering mark of their encounter. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—perhaps, in ten months, this moment would yield an unexpected surprise.
Chen Ge gently extricated his manhood from Wang Xin's trembling body, his movements slow and deliberate to avoid disturbing the fragile peace that had settled over her, her steady breathing a testament to the sleep that had finally claimed her after years of restless nights haunted by spectral guilt. He reached for a quilt folded neatly at the edge of the mattress, its soft fabric a stark contrast to the sterile austerity of the room, and draped it carefully over her slender form, ensuring she was cocooned in warmth as she rested, her serene expression a quiet victory against the torment that had defined her existence. Stepping back, he cast a final glance at her, the weight of the Pen Spirit's fulfilled wish settling over him like a mantle, before turning to leave the room, the door closing with a soft click behind him, sealing Wang Xin in her newfound respite. Outside, Doctor Gao and Madam Gu stood in hushed anticipation, their faces etched with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, their voices lowered to a whisper to avoid rousing the girl who had finally found sleep, their eyes searching Chen Ge's for answers about the enigmatic ritual that had unfolded within the room's cloistered walls.
"How is Wang Xin?" Madam Gu asked, her voice barely audible, trembling with a mother's desperate hope, her hands clasped tightly as if to anchor herself against the possibility of disappointment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that reflected the years of anguish she had endured watching her adopted daughter suffer. Doctor Gao echoed her concern, his professional composure softened by a flicker of awe, his gaze fixed on Chen Ge with an intensity that demanded clarity, his role as Wang Xin's physician compelling him to understand the mechanics of her sudden transformation. "She's really asleep?" he pressed, his tone laced with disbelief, his years of experience with trauma patients telling him that such a profound shift—unassisted by heavy sedation—was nothing short of miraculous, the question a bridge between his clinical skepticism and the faint hope that Chen Ge's unorthodox approach had achieved what his expertise could not. Their hushed inquiries hung in the air, the apartment's sterile silence amplifying their urgency, as they stood poised on the threshold of a moment that could redefine Wang Xin's future, their trust in Chen Ge tentative but growing in the face of his evident success.
Chen Ge gestured toward the room, his voice calm but imbued with a quiet triumph. "Already asleep," he confirmed, the words simple yet heavy with the weight of what they signified—a girl who had been tormented by sleepless nights now resting peacefully, her nightmares momentarily banished by the Pen Spirit's absolution. He paused, meeting their gazes with a sincerity that sought to bridge the gap between his supernatural methods and their rational understanding, his expression one of measured restraint as he navigated the delicate task of explaining his actions without revealing the spectral truth that underpinned them. "It's a long story," he began, his tone carefully modulated to balance honesty with discretion, knowing that the full scope of the Pen Spirit's involvement would strain their credulity. "When I was looking for inspiration for my Haunted House at Mu Yang High School, I accidentally stumbled across some information related to Wang Xin's past and uncovered the reason for her depression. It appears a scar was left in her mind after witnessing her friend's death while playing a game of Pen Spirit. Therefore, I used that as an opening. I simulated the Pen Spirit game she once played with her roommates and used that to tell her that it wasn't her fault; it was all just an accident." His explanation was a half-truth, weaving enough of the mundane to satisfy their curiosity while shielding the spectral ritual that had summoned Chen Yalin's voice, the pen's ghostly script a secret he kept locked within the confines of his mission.
"And it worked?" Doctor Gao asked, his voice a mix of astonishment and admiration, his furrowed brow easing as he processed Chen Ge's account, the simplicity of the explanation belying the profound impact it had wrought, his clinical mind grappling with the possibility that a simulated game could unlock a trauma that years of therapy had failed to breach. The weight of Wang Xin's transformation settled over him, his professional curiosity piqued by the unorthodox method that had elicited such a visceral response, his respect for Chen Ge deepening as he considered the implications of this breakthrough for his own practice, the faint spark of hope in his eyes a testament to the possibility that this moment could mark a turning point for his patient. Behind him, Madam Gu's eyes brimmed with tears, her earlier skepticism replaced by a flood of gratitude, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Thank you, I shouldn't have doubted you earlier, I'm sorry!" Her apology was fervent, her hands reaching out as if to grasp Chen Ge's in a gesture of contrition, her relief palpable as she stood on the precipice of her daughter's healing, the weight of years spent battling Wang Xin's torment lifting in the face of this unexpected salvation.
"It's fine. If anything, both you and Doctor Gao have done more than I did. Neither of you gave up on Wang Xin when she needed it the most, and that is the most important thing," Chen Ge replied, his voice warm with genuine admiration, his words a deliberate effort to deflect their gratitude and elevate their roles, recognizing the tireless devotion that had sustained Wang Xin through her darkest moments. He praised their unwavering commitment, his tone sincere as he sought to strengthen the bond of trust that had formed in this fragile moment, his humility a calculated gesture to leave them with a positive impression of his involvement, ensuring their goodwill as he prepared to depart. Madam Gu, her emotions raw and unguarded, insisted they stay for lunch, her offer a heartfelt attempt to express her gratitude, but Chen Ge declined with a polite smile, his mind already turning to the black phone that had vibrated twice during his sex with Wang Xin, its silent summons a reminder of the spectral obligations that awaited him, the next phase of his mission beckoning with an urgency that could not be ignored.
After bidding farewell to Doctor Gao outside the Fang Hwa residential complex, Chen Ge boarded a bus bound for New Century Park, the city's evening lights blurring past the windows as he settled into the back row, his solitude a welcome reprieve after the intensity of the ritual. Ensuring no curious eyes were upon him, he drew the black phone from his pocket, its sleek surface a familiar weight in his hand, its screen glowing with the promise of new directives from the spectral realm that had guided his path through the horrors of Mu Yang High School. The message that awaited him was both a confirmation of his success and a call to further action, its words igniting a spark of anticipation as he read: "Congratulations on completing 2-star scenario Mu Yang High School's hidden mission—the Pen Spirit's Wish! Activating the next part of the Hidden Mission! Create mannequins for the twenty-four spirits to possess!" The directive was a chilling escalation, a summons to anchor the spirits of the school's lost students to his Haunted House, their spectral presence a potential asset in his growing empire of fear, yet a task fraught with the weight of their collective tragedy, each mannequin a vessel for a soul bound to the classroom's haunted halls.
The message continued, affirming the Pen Spirit's gratitude: "Successfully completed the Pen Spirit's Wish. Even though she still cannot see you, she is appreciative of your help. Would you like to employ the Pen Spirit as a member of the Haunted House?" Chen Ge's lips curved into a faint smile, his decision instantaneous as he clicked 'yes,' the choice a culmination of his efforts to harness the spectral forces that had drawn him into this mission, the Pen Spirit's power a long-awaited addition to his arsenal, its potential both a boon and a responsibility in the delicate balance of his Haunted House's ecosystem. The confirmation followed swiftly: "Specters' Favored, congratulations on hiring a Special-Type Baleful Specter—the Pen Spirit! Chen Yalin (Pen Spirit): A fortune telling opportunity daily (All questions must be within the Pen Spirit's power. The rate of a successful reading is fifty percent)! Note: The Pen Spirit feeds on the visitor's frightful screams. The visitor's fear will improve the Pen Spirit's power, but if you keep the Pen Spirit isolated and depressed, she might decide to leave you." The words were a contract sealed in the language of the supernatural, outlining the Pen Spirit's abilities and vulnerabilities, its reliance on fear a reminder of the symbiotic relationship Chen Ge must nurture to maintain its loyalty, his mind already racing with plans to integrate Chen Yalin's spectral presence into the chilling tapestry of his Haunted House, her fortune-telling power a new draw for visitors seeking thrills laced with the uncanny.
Chen Ge's eyes lingered on the glowing screen of the black phone, poring over the Pen Spirit's details with a fervor that bordered on reverence, each word a confirmation of the monumental step he had just taken—hiring his first supernatural employee, a milestone that transformed his Haunted House from a mere attraction into a nexus of spectral power. The implications cascaded through his mind like a torrent, igniting a spark of exhilaration as he realized that this singular achievement brought him closer to his long-cherished dream: a theme park operated entirely under his control, where the boundaries between the living and the dead blurred to create an experience unlike any other. The Pen Spirit, Chen Yalin, was no ordinary addition; her ability to deliver daily fortune-telling with a fifty percent success rate, fueled by the screams of terrified visitors, promised to elevate his Haunted House into a realm of chilling authenticity, a beacon for thrill-seekers drawn to the uncanny. He reread the note about her need for fear to thrive, a symbiotic relationship that aligned perfectly with his vision, his heart racing with the possibilities of what this partnership could unleash, the black phone's cryptic directives now a roadmap to a future where his ambitions and the supernatural intertwined in a dance of terror and wonder.
The realization that he had secured the Pen Spirit as an ally filled Chen Ge with a quiet triumph, his mind already envisioning a future where more ghosts would join his ranks, each one a step toward building a spectral workforce capable of sustaining his grand vision—a journey of a thousand miles beginning with this single, pivotal step. The Pen Spirit's unique abilities made her an ideal asset; she could anchor an entire scenario on her own, her presence weaving an atmosphere of eerie unpredictability that would captivate visitors, while her fortune-telling talent offered a novel draw, a spectral service that could set his Haunted House apart from mundane competitors. Her potential to grow stronger with the fear of guests was a perfect match for his ambitions, a self-sustaining cycle where the terror she inspired would amplify her power, creating a feedback loop that could transform his park into a living, breathing entity of horror. Chen Ge's satisfaction deepened as he considered her role, his fingers tracing the edge of the phone as he imagined the scenarios she could helm, her spectral presence a cornerstone in the foundation of his burgeoning empire, a testament to the potential of the supernatural to redefine the boundaries of entertainment.
The next phase of Mu Yang High School's hidden mission flickered on the screen, its directive to craft mannequins for the twenty-four lingering spirits of the sealed classroom to possess striking Chen Ge as both a challenge and an inevitability, a task he would have pursued even without the black phone's prompting, driven by his growing sense of responsibility to the spectral entities tied to his Haunted House. The mission resonated with a deeper purpose, one that transcended mere obligation; it was a call to provide a home for the restless souls of Mu Yang High School, orphans who had found solace in the classroom that had been their sanctuary in life, now bound to it in death. Chen Ge's mind turned to the logistics of the task, envisioning rows of meticulously crafted mannequins, each one a vessel for a spirit's essence, their hollow forms a bridge between the mortal and spectral realms, anchoring the students' presence to his park in a way that honored their tragic past while granting them purpose in his world of controlled terror. The mission was daunting, requiring not just craftsmanship but a delicate negotiation with the spirits themselves, yet it felt like a natural extension of his role as the Specters' Favored, a title that carried the weight of both power and duty.
Reflecting on his earlier conversation with Inspector Lee, Chen Ge pieced together the tragic history that had tethered the twenty-four students to the sealed classroom, their status as orphans painting Mu Yang High School as more than a school—it had been their home, a refuge where they had forged bonds of family in the absence of blood ties, only to be bound there by the tragedy of their deaths. The revelation brought clarity to their lingering presence, their spirits drawn back to the place that had defined their lives, now finding a new home within the expanding confines of Chen Ge's Haunted House, much like Xiaoxiao's family had before them. This migration of spirits felt like a natural progression, a merging of their spectral essence with his park's growing mythology, each ghost a thread in the tapestry of terror he was weaving, their presence a testament to the Haunted House's evolution into a sanctuary for both the living and the dead. The realization deepened his resolve, his fingers tightening around the phone as he contemplated the symbiotic relationship forming between his ambitions and the spirits' need for purpose, a partnership that could redefine the boundaries of his enterprise.
As Chen Ge considered the expanding scope of his underground scenario, he recognized the necessity of the twenty-four spirits' involvement, their spectral presence essential to managing the intricate sets that would bring his vision to life, their numbers a vital asset in the sprawling labyrinth of fear he was constructing beneath New Century Park. The thought of the growing complexity of his Trial Missions filled him with both anticipation and trepidation, the underground scenario's expansion demanding a workforce capable of maintaining its chilling authenticity, a role the spirits were uniquely suited to fulfill. Yet, he knew that their cooperation would not come easily; earning the goodwill of twenty-four restless souls, each marked by their own trauma and loss, would require more than a simple invitation—it would demand trust, respect, and a shared purpose that honored their past while integrating them into his future. Chen Ge's plan was ambitious, a delicate balance of harnessing their power while offering them a place to belong, his mind already racing with strategies to forge this alliance, the black phone's directives a guiding light in the intricate dance of managing a Haunted House where the line between the living and the dead was not just blurred but obliterated, creating a realm where fear and redemption intertwined in a singular, haunting spectacle.