114: The comments section is more interesting than the main text.

The end-of-class bell rang like a starting pistol for a hundred-meter dash,

piercing through the dull air of grade 11, class 3.

The moment Shen Qingqiu stepped out of the classroom,

a uniform rustling sound erupted from below the podium.

Dozens of hands simultaneously reached into desks, pockets, and sleeves to pull out phones.

The movements were so practiced and synchronized that they rivaled a military parade formation.

Immediately after, the previously quiet classroom became like a pot of boiling oil into which a ladle of cold water had been splashed.

"Holy crap!"

The Physical Education Committee Member in the back row let out an exclamation, nearly dropping his phone on his face.

"Ah—!"

A girl in the front row gave a short scream before tightly covering her mouth,

shrinking into her seatmate's arms while her eyes remained stubbornly fixed on the gap in the screen.

"This Zhao Li... is pointing a gun at a ghost!?"

"Is this a horror novel or a gang war?"

"Shut up! Every time you guys scream, you scare me!"

The classroom was in total chaos.

Fear, excitement, and confusion intertwined, making it noisier than a wet market.

Wu Di curled up in his chair, hiding his phone behind a textbook with only a third of the screen visible.

As he read, he muttered like he was chanting a sutra:

"Prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony... demons and ghosts, stay away... Holy crap! His head fell off!

Brother Que's head fell off!"

He suddenly grabbed Lin Que's arm, his nails nearly digging into the flesh.

Lin Que expressionlessly pried his hand away.

"If you pinch me again, I'll make your head fall off too."

"No, Brother Que, did you see it? This Dream Weaver is playing for keeps this time!"

Wu Di's face was pale, yet his eyes were shining.

"That convenience store—why do I feel like it's so similar to the little shop at our school's back gate? How am I supposed to go buy grilled sausages now?"

Luo Ji, the Physics Class Representative who always had the word 'logic' on his lips,

was currently taking off his glasses and using the corner of his shirt to wipe the fog off the lenses.

His complexion was clearly not great.

"This... this is completely utilizing the psychological phenomenon of the uncanny valley."

Luo Ji put his glasses back on, his voice a bit strained as he forced an explanation.

"Creating a sense of claustrophobia through environmental descriptions and then using the first-person perspective to enhance immersion... it's purely writing technique, nothing... nothing special."

"Technique?"

Zhang Ya, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke.

She closed her phone and turned around,

looking at the still-stubborn Luo Ji with a complex gaze.

"Luo Ji, technique alone can't write a sense of destiny like 'I'm the one who gave you those eyes'.

Although I don't like horror themes, I have to admit... this setting of treating people like chess pieces is much more sophisticated than simple ghosts scaring people."

Hearing even Zhang Ya say this, Luo Ji opened his mouth,

but ultimately failed to find a rebuttal and slumped back against his chair.

"Fine... it really is something."

"Yo yo yo yo—"

Wu Di, who had been watching the drama from the side, instantly perked up.

The cowardice he'd shown from being scared earlier vanished without a trace.

He leaned his chubby face in with a smug grin.

"Who was it just now that called this 'parasitic marketing'?

Who said they 'lost at the starting line'?"

He spoke with a strange accent while asking the other students.

"Was it you?"

"Was it you?"

"Tch!"

The surrounding students were used to Wu Di's antics and waved him off with a chorus of "tchs" as they returned to their seats.

Luo Ji's face turned the color of liver. He gave a cold snort and turned away to pretend to read,

failing to notice that he was holding the book upside down.

Lin Que ignored the guy because his phone had been vibrating non-stop in his pocket for a while.

He pulled out his phone.

There was a bright red "9+" on the WeChat icon.

He tapped it; it was full of messages from Fugitive Beethoven.

Fugitive Beethoven: [Image] [Image] [Image]

Fugitive Beethoven: This is killing me! Teacher Lin, quickly look at the comment section! This generation of netizens is too talented!

Fugitive Beethoven: That last chapter gave me chills, but the moment I opened the comments, I started snorting with laughter. These people really know how to ruin the atmosphere. [Laugh-cry]

Lin Que opened the first screenshot.

It was the top comments under the first chapter of "soul ferry" on Red Fruit Reading.

Specialist in Curing Defiance:

"I originally came in with the mindset of a hater, keyboard ready to blast this unscrupulous author for riding Jian Shen's coattails.

Result... after finishing the first chapter, I ate my keyboard. It's so good!

That look in Zhao Li's eyes, 'I'm the one who gave you those eyes'—my soul left my body at that moment! Dream Weaver, you owe me a new soul!"

10086th Generation Descendant of Mount Mao:

"As a professional ghost-catching (not) Taoist, I must sternly condemn the author!

You wrote the ghosts with such human touch; how are we supposed to conduct business in the future?"

Jian Shen Doesn't Work Out:

"Don't derail the thread, you above! I came here to curse the author! Although... but... Zhao Li is so handsome!

That rogue-ish charm is a completely different style from our Tristan!

One is a gentle guardian knight, the other is a domineering, unreasonable bandit.

Waaaah, only children make choices; I want them both!

Can we have Zhao Li and Tristan fight? I'll go with whoever wins!"

Lin Que's lip twitched.

The adaptability of this generation of netizens was indeed stronger than he had imagined.

He opened the second screenshot.

Mental Asylum Boss:

"Everyone's shouting about being scared; am I the only one who finds this abstract?

Convenience Store No. 444—the name itself has that... that 'Welcome, would you like to buy this bottle of corpse oil or this bag of bone ash?' vibe.

Also, that gun Zhao Li is holding—is it one of those nine-yuan-ninety free-shipping water guns from Pinduoduo?

If so, please give me the link; I want to squirt my boss."

Cowardly Little Mouse:

"The person above is shallow. What is the highest level of horror? It's not ghosts scaring people; it's being broke!

Xia Dongqing working in such a ghostly place just to take his postgraduate exams—that's the real horror, okay?

This is a true-to-life portrayal of modern college students!

For the sake of making a living, never mind ghosts—I could become bros with a 'poor ghost'!

As long as you're brave enough, even Sadako would need maternity leave!"

Lin Que couldn't help it and almost laughed out loud.

When phrases like "Sadako on maternity leave" were coming out, it seemed the fear had indeed been mostly neutralized.

Mu Xia: This comment section is more exciting than the main text. [Face-palm laugh]

The other side replied instantly.

Fugitive Beethoven: Definitely! But there are serious people too. Look at the third one.

The third screenshot was a long review with many words and neat formatting.

Late Night Watchman:

"Setting aside the memes, let's talk seriously.

Many people say 'soul ferry' is latching onto 'the ferryman,' but I think that's too arrogant a claim.

Jian Shen's 'the ferryman' is Western romanticism.

It focuses on the sublimation of the soul and the redemption of love; the setting is a wasteland, detached from reality.

But Dream Weaver's 'soul ferry' has its roots firmly planted in local Chinese soil.

Convenience stores, postgraduate exams, orphans, part-time jobs... these elements are too real.

So real that you feel Convenience Store No. 444 might be right downstairs from your house.

What it ferries isn't pure souls, but 'obsessions'.

The little ghost who wants to drink Coke, the woman with the broken neck still waiting for someone...

They aren't scary; they are just pitiful.

Dream Weaver is using the shell of a ghost story to write about the regrets of the human world.

If Jian Shen is dreaming in the clouds, then Dream Weaver is planting flowers in the mud.

Neither is superior; they just have different perspectives.

For this round, I'm siding with Dream Weaver. This courage to face a bleak life is true literature."

Lin Que looked at these words, his finger gently stroking the screen.

There were still people who understood the craft.

The world never lacks smart people; it only lacks an opportunity to break through prejudice.

Mu Xia: A very high evaluation. It seems this Watchman understood.

Fugitive Beethoven: I think so too! This person said it so well!

By the way, Teacher Lin, do you think if Jian Shen saw this book, he would feel he'd met his match?

Lin Que raised an eyebrow and typed a reply.

Mu Xia: A match? Not really.

At most, they're just fellow workers carrying bricks on the same construction site.

One is responsible for building Heaven, the other for digging Hell.

Either way, they're contractors with the same goal:

To finish the job early so everyone has a place to stay.

Fugitive Beethoven: Tsk tsk, with your level of insight, it's a pity you didn't become a philosopher. [Sunglasses]

Gotta go, the bell's ringing. This period is the Old Witch's solfège and ear training class.

I have to hide my phone, or I'll be dragged off to play 'Flight of the Bumblebee' again.

Talk later! [Gotta run.jpg]

Lin Que put away his phone.

The bell for class rang again, forcibly suppressing the noise in the classroom.

But that surging undercurrent could no longer be held back...