I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

The dagger was the fastest, already reaching Zhang Yangqing.

If it were any other chosen one, they would have been in a panic long ago.

They dodged, sought cover, and tried to escape through the window, but the window had iron bars, the door was locked, and weapons came from all directions, leaving no way out. If they could use the desks to hide, they were already considered very clever.

Who is Zhang Yangqing? He didn't even blink.

He reached out his hand, his five fingers spread, as if he had grasped something.

He saw through the trajectory of the dagger and even predicted it.

The instant that invisible hand grasped the dagger and stabbed him, his palm was already waiting in the path the dagger was bound to take.

He gripped the back of the dagger with his fingers, deflecting the impact, then twisted it so the blade faced outwards, and pushed it forward sharply.

"Ding!"

The dagger flew out of his hand, tracing a silvery-white arc before landing precisely on the blackboard.

The tip of the knife sank into the wooden board, and the blade trembled slightly.

The dagger pierced in front of the clock's second hand, not hitting the second hand itself, but rather piercing the position where the second hand was about to reach.

The second hand was blocked and could not move forward. It got stuck on the blade of the dagger and made a buzzing vibration.

Everything stopped.

The weapons that had been suspended in mid-air seemed to have lost their support and crashed to the ground with a "clatter." The iron rods rolled twice, and the stone spikes shattered into powder.

The classroom fell silent again, save for the hum of the dagger and the faint, struggling vibration of the clock's second hand as it got stuck.

Zhang Yangqing withdrew his hand, casually patted his sleeves, walked to the door, opened it, and went out.

The audience in front of the giant screen in China were stunned, and the barrage of comments flooded in.

Are you sure this is Zhang Tianshi's first time here? He doesn't know the rules?

Actually, this level isn't difficult. The clock starts moving first, and then other strange phenomena appear in the room. The clock is definitely a switch, so you just need to turn it off. But Zhang Tianshi's reaction speed is something we were able to analyze afterward because we saw the whole process. If we were in that situation, we would have died eight hundred times over.

That makes sense. Does that mean the same pattern applies to other rooms? For example, is there a certain switch in a haunted room, and turning it off will stop the haunting?
Holy crap, bro, your analytical skills are amazing! That makes sense! Want to be on the next ghost story?

Go away, go away. I'm just analyzing it. If you let me in, I'll definitely run away with my tail between my legs.

It must be said that the audience outside the world of ghost stories has some discerning eyes this time.

Zhang Yangqing also obtained this information in the world of supernatural tales during this process.

Perhaps this is a hint to go to the library.

Zhang Yangqing had already guessed that there might be similar dangers in the library.

He left the classroom and continued following the shoe prints.

The shoe prints meandered through the corridor, as if deliberately leading him through certain places: a window, a door, a corner.

After walking for about ten minutes, the footprints stopped in front of a double door.

Zhang Yangqing looked up and saw a bronze plaque hanging above the door, with the words "Quiet Mind Library" engraved on it.

The door was ajar, and a dim light shone through the crack.

He reached out and pushed the door open; the hinges creaked slightly.

At this point, the footprints disappeared.

It didn't disappear when it reached the door; it disappeared after it entered the door.

The library floor is made of wood, dark brown, and is so clean that even if you wear leather shoes, you won't leave any marks when you step on it.

Zhang Yangqing squatted down and shone a flashlight on the ground to confirm that there were no footprints.

The lights in the library were just right—neither too dim nor too bright.

It was one of those old-fashioned fluorescent lights, the bulbs already yellowed, the light soft, shining on the bookshelves, the tables and chairs, and the floor, casting a warm halo over the entire space. Zhang Yangqing turned off the flashlight and tucked it back into his waistband.

There is no one here.

He stood at the entrance, his gaze sweeping across the entire library.

The bookshelves were very tall, reaching all the way to the ceiling. They were crammed with books of all different colors; some were new, some were old, some had faded spines, and some still had shiny spines.

The tables and chairs were neatly arranged, with the chairs pushed under the tables, as if someone had tidied up after leaving.

The floor was clean, free of scraps of paper and dust, and even the air was fresh, a stark contrast to the musty smell in the corridor.

There was a wooden board standing at the entrance, with a piece of paper pasted on it. The paper had notices written in large black characters.

"Guidelines for Readers of the Tranquil Library"

"Article 1: Books are the ladder of human progress. Please cherish books and do not take any books out of the library."

"Rule number two: Keep quiet and refrain from making noise. If you hear someone talking, do not respond; they are not talking to you."

"Article 3: Murder is prohibited in the library, no matter who you are or what your reasons are."

Seeing the last point might frighten some of the chosen ones.

What kind of weird notice is this? No killing in the library? Has someone killed someone here before?

Or is it that "someone" is here trying to kill someone?
Zhang Yangqing, however, felt alright, believing he had come to the right place.

This third point of attention precisely illustrates that this should be a safe zone, where, under the protection of the "rules," harming each other is prohibited.

Following his memory, Zhang Yangqing found the place in the library that he had seen in the surveillance footage.

The bookshelves were correct; those wooden bookshelves against the wall, taller than the others, had books piled up horizontally and vertically, crookedly arranged.

The books were correct; those with red covers, blue covers, and no covers all matched the images in his memory.

The width of the aisle is correct, the height of the bookshelves is correct, and even the subtle reflections on the floor are correct.

Strangely, those shoes weren't there.

Zhang Yangqing stood still, his gaze sweeping from the bookshelf to the floor, from the floor to the aisle, and then back from the aisle to the bookshelf, but he still couldn't find the shoes.

The black leather shoes that appeared in the surveillance footage as just shoes, without any people, motionless yet seemingly alive, are not here.

All the chosen ones were wondering if they had entered the wrong room.

Is this really the room we saw from the monitoring room?

There was clearly a pair of shoes in that room, so why aren't they here?
Is the surveillance footage not showing a real-time feed?
Or did the shoes just leave by themselves when I came over?
After all, there are shoe prints; shoe prints can't lie, right?

Zhang Yangqing looked up and saw a surveillance camera on the ceiling, near the corner of the wall.

The lens is round and black, with a red indicator light flashing slowly, sometimes bright and sometimes dim.

He recognized it; it was the camera.

The angle of the lens, its installation location, and even the location of the small patch of dust in front of the lens were exactly the same as in the surveillance footage he remembered.

This is the room we saw on the security camera.

At that moment, strange phenomena began to appear.

"Swish!"

The sound of turning pages was very soft, as if someone in a faraway place was gently turning the pages with their fingers.

But in an empty library, any sound is amplified infinitely.

In a quiet, deserted, and somewhat eerily desolate place, the sound of turning pages suddenly came from the pages of a book.

What does this mean? Isn't this a sign of impending ghostly activity? (End of Chapter)