Starting with dissecting ghost stories

At 7:10 a.m., Shen Xing opened his eyes.

When he opened his eyes and saw the familiar ceiling, he realized something was wrong.

The sunlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains was a bit too intense... I seem to have slept longer than usual.

He got out of bed, picked up the watch next to him, and looked at the numbers on it.

really......

He usually only oversleeps when he is sick and has a fever, because he goes to bed very early almost every day and wakes up earlier than six o'clock. Even if he wakes up late, it's only a few minutes later.

This is his biological clock, which he has maintained for more than ten years. It is unlikely that he will oversleep by more than an hour.

After absorbing [0111] last night, his body seemed to undergo some unusual changes, which disrupted his biological clock.

He raised his left hand to examine his arm, where he could still faintly see traces of black pen ink left over from the previous night. The one-centimeter cut he had made before leaving had also disappeared.

In addition, he also felt a strong sense of hunger... Normally, even at breakfast time, his hunger would not be this strong, so strong that it made him feel a little weak.

Is this replenishing the energy used to repair muscles and blood loss yesterday?

He picked up the water bottle from the bedside table and drank several large gulps, which relieved his thirst considerably.

Shen Xing dragged himself out of bed to wash up, and just as he finished changing and opened the door, he heard Shen Yuan close the door as she left.

"Bang."

Shen Xing wondered if it was just his imagination, but Shen Yuan seemed to close the door more gently today.

Shen Xing walked into the restaurant intending to grab something to eat, and saw a stainless steel plate on the table with two slightly undercooked sunny-side-up eggs on it. A carton of milk was placed next to the stainless steel plate, and there was a strip of cold medicine on the floor.

She made breakfast herself? Did she think I was sick?

Seeing the cold medicine that seemed to have been accidentally knocked to the ground but was actually deliberately placed in a more conspicuous position, Shen Xing seemed to know that his sister had misunderstood something.

She seemed to make sure she could leave the room before closing the door and leaving. Although she wouldn't be late for school at this time, she still needed to hurry.

But Shen Xing didn't have this concern. That's the good thing about the school doctor; if you don't go, there's a high chance no one will notice you're missing.

He picked up the plate and poured the half-cooked eggs into the kitchen trash can. He couldn't stand undercooked food. The eggs flipped over when they were dumped into the trash can, and the back was even burnt.

Shen Xing looked up at the black iron pot, and sure enough, there were many brownish-black, slightly carbonized eggs stuck to the bottom of the pot.

The pot still needs to be washed.

Next time, I should remind her not to go into the kitchen casually. If a fire breaks out while she's sleeping, it could cause serious problems.

After washing the pot, Shen Xing quickly cooked something and ate it with milk. After cleaning up the dishes and the medicine box that had fallen on the ground, he picked up his handbag and went out.

Although he could choose not to go to the infirmary, he still had to work diligently to at least keep his job as the school doctor before he could confidently stay in the infirmary to conduct his experiments.

If these strange occurrences happened in other buildings, Shen Xing could use his savings, inheritance, or even his pension to buy or rent them. But the school clinic was completely helpless.

After all, it's a public school, so buying a medical clinic located in the administration building is a bit of a pipe dream.

...

7:40, Yucai Middle School, Class 3, Grade 2.

Before the morning reading class officially started, the classroom was filled with the aroma of breakfast buns, rice noodle rolls, and soy sauce.

Shen Yuan sat in the second-to-last window seat on the left, twirling her ballpoint pen in her hand with some irritation.

She didn't sleep well last night, and the little incident before she left home this morning has left her temples throbbing with pain.

She didn't know if her wooden-like brother had seen the medicine on the ground, nor was she sure if he would just throw the two burnt eggs into the trash can—given his personality, he probably would.

The pan was only smoking, so how come the egg burned as soon as it hit the pan?

"Hey, did you hear? That new school doctor who was really handsome used to be a forensic pathologist!"

A boy in the front seat suddenly lowered his voice and spoke mysteriously to the people around him, his voice filled with barely concealed excitement.

"Really? A forensic pathologist? You know, the kind you see on TV... cutting up corpses?" The girl next to me exclaimed, both frightened and curious. "How do you know?"

"I went to the office to collect homework just now and overheard Lao Wang chatting with other teachers. He said that he used to be the youngest chief prosecutor and forensic doctor in the provincial capital who was promoted ahead of schedule after solving a major case. But somehow he ended up coming back to this lousy place of ours to be a school doctor."

The boy got more and more excited as he spoke, gesturing wildly as he said, "Do you think he quit because he felt guilty about doing something in secret... I heard that some psychopaths love this kind of job."

"Holy crap, that's so cool. Hey, shall we go to the infirmary after class? Let's see what a real forensic doctor looks like, and maybe ask him if he's ever actually seen a dead person."

"Come on, I'm coming too! But don't ask any questions, what if they kill you! Hahaha!"

"Oh no, why didn't you say so earlier? You guys go ahead, I'm not going."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Several heads immediately gathered around, chattering amongst themselves.

For these teenagers in junior high school, the sudden appearance of a profession that only appears in Hong Kong movies or suspense novels in their monotonous school life is like throwing a popping candy into plain porridge.

The boy who started it first started spieling: "If you're so tough, go together after class! If not, I'll go to the next class and find my buddy to go with."

Shen Yuan abruptly stopped writing.

Hearing the laughter coming from ahead, a nameless anger suddenly surged up inside her.

These people have no idea what they're talking about.

In this tiny city, rumors spread faster than a plague.

If this matter is spread as some kind of sensational news, within three days, those superstitious and gossipy parents will find out.

They would feel it was "bad luck" to have someone who spends all day touching corpses treat their children, and they would file a joint complaint with the school, looking at the infirmary like it was a plague.

At that time, he won't be able to keep that job that wasn't permanent and had a meager salary... He quit his job so he could come back to take care of his family...

Although she hated Shen Xing's deadpan face and his emotionless, wooden-like demeanor, he was still... her only family member in name only.

Regardless of how she treated him, she felt inexplicably annoyed whenever she saw others gossiping about her.

She never suppresses her displeasure when dealing with others.

"Snapped!"

A thick Chinese textbook was slammed heavily onto the desk with a dull thud. The sound didn't drown out the noise in the classroom, but it did startle the students in front of the desk.

The previously noisy front seats fell silent instantly, and everyone looked at Shen Yuan behind them in astonishment.

Shen Yuan raised her head. The girl, who usually kept her head down and was not very noticeable, now had a frighteningly cold look in her eyes.

"Have you said enough?"

Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a suppressed anger, and her gaze was fixed on the boy who had started the disturbance.

"What's wrong? Are we being too loud...?" The boy was startled by her imposing manner and stammered.

"Forensic doctors assist the police in solving cases and speak for the deceased, not to be your puppets," Shen Yuan said coldly. "Without forensic doctors, how many wrongful convictions would go unsolved? How many murderers would go unpunished? It's a respectable profession, not the perverted or unlucky one you portray it to be."

After saying this, Shen Yuan picked up a book to cover her face, leaving only her slightly trembling fingers to reveal her inner turmoil.

The students in the front row looked at each other in bewilderment.

They didn't know why Shen Yuan was so angry, but they knew that Shen Yuan's father was a policeman, so they didn't suspect whether Shen Yuan had any relationship with the new school doctor.

"Ahem, that's true. It's not good to bother others. Let's disperse."

The boy who had been leading the group awkwardly touched his nose, not daring to continue his loud and boisterous behavior. Instead, he waved for the others to disperse, and the enthusiastic atmosphere that had been about to turn the infirmary into a zoo quickly subsided.

Good-looking girls do have a certain amount of influence over boys who are still in their adolescence, and none of them want to make a bad impression on Shen Yuan.

If a different man had done that, it would probably have quickly escalated into a fight.

A girl who was sleeping with her head down in a seat to the right of the podium was startled awake by Shen Yuan's noise, which seemed to be announcing the teacher's arrival. She groggily glanced around, and after realizing that the teacher hadn't come, she lay back down.

……

At this moment, on the first floor of the administration building.

The curtains in the infirmary were drawn tightly, shutting out all the sunlight and noise from outside.

Shen Xing had no idea that a few hundred meters away in the teaching building, his sister, who had previously been indifferent to him, had just lost her temper in defense of him.

He was standing in front of his desk, slowly putting on a pair of brand-new latex gloves.

The rubber rebounded with a soft "snap" as it adhered to his slender fingers.

On the tripod in front of him, the red indicator light of the DV camera was flashing silently.