Chapter Two: Another Red Envelope

All afternoon, the topic on everyone’s lips was the same—after all, a living classmate dying right before their eyes was far too bizarre to simply forget.

“What do you think really happened?” someone asked.

“No idea. Bao Lei was always fine; she never showed any signs of mental illness.”

“Exactly. Especially when she gouged at her own eyes, it was like she didn’t feel pain at all—just like those zombies in movies.”

Zhang Xiaofan sat alone at his desk, still unable to calm the horror in his heart. Again and again, Bao Lei’s final words echoed in his mind.

I didn’t follow the rules of the game. I am guilty…

“What game rules?” Zhang Xiaofan muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, a boy in front of him jumped up, clutching his phone with a look of terror. “Everyone, look! Check the group chat!”

“What’s going on?”

“Damn it, you scared me half to death with your shouting.”

Many students grumbled at him, but as soon as they checked their phones, startled murmurs broke out.

Zhang Xiaofan immediately opened WeChat. His pupils contracted sharply—no one could have expected it: the deceased Bao Lei had sent a message in the class group chat.

And at some point, the group name had changed to: Underworld Red Packet Group!

Bao Lei: Anyone who fails to follow the game rules… dies!

“What the hell? Who’s messing around with Bao Lei’s phone?”

“We’ll beat you up when we find you.” The students began to fill the chat with angry messages.

Wang Hu strode to the podium, glaring fiercely. “Who the hell took Bao Lei’s phone?” he barked.

Wang Hu was the class bully—muscular and intimidating, with rumors that his father led a powerful gang. Few dared to cross him.

At his outburst, everyone looked around at each other uncertainly.

Ding!

The WeChat notification sounded again; unexpectedly, Sun Yang had sent another 200 yuan red packet.

Many, already glued to their phones, instinctively rushed to snatch it.

“Damn, I only got three yuan.”

“Not bad, I got over thirty.”

In an instant, the rush for red packets made them temporarily forget Bao Lei’s death.

Since everyone was in the classroom, the red packet was quickly claimed in its entirety.

But then, Bao Lei sent another message: Whoever got the most must wear stockings on their head all day tomorrow at school. Disobey, and you die!

Instantly, whispers spread through the room. Several glanced back at Yao Xiaoqing, who had grabbed the biggest share.

“What kind of sick joke is this? Who’s fooling around with Bao Lei’s phone?” Yao Xiaoqing was unusually angry, but cold sweat prickled his back. It was simply too strange.

It was exactly like last night—snatch red packets, and whoever got the most had to complete a task. The most crucial rule: disobey, and you die!

“This is too weird.”

“Yeah, do you think it’s Bao Lei’s ghost?”

“Don’t say that; there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Yao Xiaoqing, are you really going to do what it says?” a boy asked him.

“Stop joking around. It’s just a prank.” Yao Xiaoqing snapped.

“Everyone, quiet down,” said Shen Fengxing, the class vice monitor. “It’s just a prank; let’s kick Bao Lei out of the group, problem solved.”

“Right, but Sun Yang’s the group owner; he’d have to do it.”

“So let’s contact him?” someone suggested.

The classmates all messaged Sun Yang, but there was no reply. He didn’t even answer his phone.

“Damn it, Sun Yang, of all times not to answer!” Yao Xiaoqing cursed.

He hung up in frustration, his heart chilled. Bao Lei’s ghostly message said that anyone who didn’t complete the assigned task would die—would he end up like her? He couldn’t help but wonder what to do.

“Hey!” A large hand clapped his shoulder, and Wang Hu said, “Don’t worry, Yao Xiaoqing. When I find out who’s behind this, I’ll make them pay.”

Yao Xiaoqing usually hung out with Wang Hu, so Wang Hu looked out for him.

“Thanks, Tiger.”

Wang Hu nodded and left the classroom, flanked by his usual crew.

That night, Zhang Xiaofan scrolled through the group chat, the image of Bao Lei’s death replaying in his mind, leaving him sleepless. Out of curiosity, he checked the red packets and was shocked to find that the money he’d grabbed hadn’t gone into his usual WeChat balance. Instead, beneath the balance was a black wallet icon, labeled: Underworld Wallet—14 yuan!

That was the total he’d gotten from the two red packets.

“How can this be?” Zhang Xiaofan frowned. He was sure his WeChat hadn’t updated recently, so where did this Underworld Wallet come from?

Puzzled, the night passed quickly. The next day, as expected, Yao Xiaoqing did not come to school wearing stockings on his head. Some classmates teased, “Yao Xiaoqing, you’re brave, aren’t you afraid of ending up like Bao Lei?”

“Get lost! I don’t believe in that crap. Even if I meet a ghost, it’ll have to go around me,” Yao Xiaoqing replied arrogantly.

At that moment, Zhang Xiaofan’s deskmate, Hu Xiaotian, leaned over and whispered, “Xiaofan, look, I got an Underworld Wallet on my phone too. Is this a new WeChat feature? Do you know how to use it?”

Zhang Xiaofan was just about to answer when, without warning, Yao Xiaoqing—who had been joking with classmates nearby—suddenly let out a guttural growl: “Didn’t follow the game rules… Die!”

He pulled a folding knife from his pocket—one he always carried—and, before everyone’s eyes, drove it into his own abdomen and slashed sideways. Blood spilled everywhere.

“Ah! Someone’s dead!”

The horrifying scene threw the class into chaos; several girls fainted on the spot, and even some of the boys pressed themselves against the wall, vomiting repeatedly.

Zhang Xiaofan trembled. It was just like scenes he’d seen in horror movies—possessed by a ghost, a person would inflict terrible harm on themselves.

“It’s a ghost! It has to be a ghost!” a boy shouted, causing everyone nearby to blanch.

“Look at the group chat! Yao Xiaoqing just sent a message,” a girl screamed.

“How’s that possible?” Wang Hu pointed furiously at Yao Xiaoqing’s phone lying on the ground. “His phone is right there!”

No one listened. They all grabbed their phones in fear.

Yao Xiaoqing: Anyone who fails to follow the game rules… dies!

“How can this be happening?” someone whispered.

“First, the dead Bao Lei sent a message; now it’s Yao Xiaoqing. God, I need to call the police.”

The police and ambulance came again. They took brief statements and asked some questions, but the investigation made no real progress.

Zhang Xiaofan frowned at the police officers, puzzled. Why were the police and paramedics exactly the same as last time? Was it just coincidence, or something more?

More unsettling still, he noticed that not one of them showed the slightest appropriate expression. It was as if, to them, the death of a student was utterly insignificant.

In the end, the homeroom teacher announced that Yao Xiaoqing’s suicide was also attributed to mental illness…