The Academic God Becomes an Internet Sensation After Joining a Dating Show - Chapter 81 - Assimilation

“I think we should start by mapping out the storylines,” Qing Lin said, opening a box that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and pulling out a neat stack of documents.

Chen Xiangchao blinked in surprise. “Hey, where’d you find those?”

“I spotted a locked box on the desk,” Qing Lin replied. “Opened the lock and found these inside.”

“A lock?” Chen Xiangchao moved closer, noticing a small slip of paper taped to the box. It displayed a puzzle—match the shapes, calculate the number sequence, and use it as the code.

“You cracked that so fast? That’s insane! I couldn’t even figure out the first step.”

Su Mingxuan grinned. “Wow, no wonder you’re a top student. That was lightning fast—reading, analyzing, solving—all in one go!”

Qing Lin offered a modest nod. “Thanks. Looking at these documents, I can tell Qilang must have had a special status.”

Everyone reached for a document.

[3.5 Secret Report One]

[7.24 Secret Report Two]

[5.1 Article published in the Southern District Press]

[9.30 Communication and Coordination Failed]

Shen Xuzhi frowned slightly. “What’s the setting for today’s escape room again?”

Su Mingxuan pulled a task card from his pocket. “I remember the card saying that it’s the M Century, and that the enemy forces in the neighboring country are very strong, planning to annex it.”

Zheng Qin said, “Oh, I see now. So Qilang was actually a patriotic scholar who used his pen as his weapon, only to be persecuted by the enemy state—and that’s how he met his end.”

Shen Xuzhi asked, “Then what about the infant’s cry?”

Su Mingxuan clapped his hands as realization struck. “Could it be… the child never actually died? Xiao Ying perished during childbirth, but the baby survived!”

The moment he spoke of the child, a sharp, piercing infant’s cry echoed through the air.

He trembled, his scalp tingling, yet soon realized the sound wasn’t distant—it was faint, muffled, as if coming from the next room.

Su Mingxuan followed the cry, inching closer to the wall. He pressed his ear against it, listening intently.

The sound came from inside the room.

All five of them moved over, pressing their ears to the wall. Indeed, intermittent, high-pitched cries could be heard, fragile yet chillingly clear.

“Could the baby be in there?” Zheng Qin asked. “How do we open this door?”

Shen Xuzhi was already examining the wall. After a moment, he noticed a small button near the base.

He pressed it. The curtain rolled upward, and the hidden door swung open with a soft creak.

“Hey, why did it suddenly open?” Chen Xiangchao asked in astonishment.

“There’s a mechanism here,” Shen Xuzhi replied calmly.

Zheng Qin grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. “Hahaha, you two always handle these things like pros.”

The room beyond was dimly lit. Beneath a red lamp hanging from the ceiling stood a small crib, its sides intricately carved with a badger and a magpie. Inside lay a swaddled infant, cooing softly.

“A baby! A real baby!”

The five approached cautiously, peering into the crib.

Though they knew no real child would be placed in an escape room, seeing the tiny, breathing form in such a ghostly setting still sent chills down their spines.

“So the rumor about the bride and her child vanishing during childbirth wasn’t true?” Zheng Qin murmured.

“The baby actually survived?”

“But that doesn’t add up,” Chen Xiangchao countered. “A child needs someone to raise him. And if he really survived, why would he still be trapped here?”

Qing Lin’s soft voice broke the silence. “Because the villagers say he’s a ghost fetus.”

The others froze, understanding dawning on their faces.

A fragile life, condemned by whispers—if his entire existence was branded by fear and superstition, his survival itself would have been a curse.

Su Mingxuan frowned. “Then who’s raising him? We haven’t seen a single living person in this mansion.”

Just then, a dark figure burst out from the shadows.

The shape darted toward the crib, snatching up the infant in one swift motion, and shouted hoarsely,

“Stay back! Don’t come near the child! Get away!”

Everyone recognized her instantly.

It was the old grandmother from village entrance—Qilang’s mother.

Su Mingxuan, mustering his courage, asked, “Um, Grandma… are you Qilang’s mother?”

“Don’t you dare touch this child! Don’t you hurt him!” the grandmother screamed, clutching the baby tightly to her chest, her frail arms trembling yet fierce with protection.

Zheng Qin quickly raised her hands in protest. “Wait! We’re not here to hurt the child! We’re here to rescue you!”

“Rescue?” the grandmother spat, her eyes blazing. “This is the safest place!”

Before anyone could react, she turned and bolted out of the chamber with surprising speed, still holding the baby.

Bang! —the door slammed shut behind her.

By the time they rushed to the doorway, it was locked tight, trapping them inside.

“It won’t open,” Shen Xuzhi said, pushing hard against it. “It’s completely sealed.”

Su Mingxuan groaned. “Good heavens, what does that even mean?”

“I don’t understand either,” Zheng Qin muttered. “Why would she call this the safest place?”

Chen Xiangchao exhaled. “Well, we might as well look for clues again.”

“There’s a notebook here,” Qing Lin said softly.

From a narrow crevice in the desk, he pulled out an old journal. Everyone gathered around as he flipped it open. Inside were Qilang’s personal notes—records of his conversations with Xiao Ying.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

[Today, dear Ying suddenly asked to break up. I was stunned—I hadn’t done anything wrong. When I asked her why, she only wept. She said she could see things others couldn’t. And if I was frightened or disgusted, I should leave her.

At first, I was shocked. That someone could truly see spirits in this world? But I accepted it—because I love dear Ying. No matter what she sees or what she is, my heart will never change.

I told her not to be afraid, that I would stay by her side forever, until the end of time.

Later, dear Ying shared her childhood with me. My heart ached for her—how cruel the world was to a girl who had done nothing wrong. She told me there are two kinds of spirits: pure spirits and vengeful spirits. Those who die peacefully become pure spirits. Those who die with resentment become vengeful ones.

She said she was lucky. Most of the spirits she saw were pure. They were kind. Gentle, even.

Ghosts can be gentle too.]

_____________________________________________________________________________________

While Qing Lin read, Zheng Qin kept searching the room—and soon found an old newspaper hidden behind a stack of books.

She spread it open and gasped. “This article… it’s about ghost fetuses!”

Everyone turned toward her.

Reading aloud, Zheng Qin’s voice trembled slightly.

“Ghost fetuses are an omen of disaster. If not aborted in time, they drain the life force of those around them and bring calamity.”

She flipped to the next column.

“Local tragedy: Villager perishes after carrying a ghost fetus. Misfortune spreads, afflicting the entire village.”

The room fell silent.

Shen Xuzhi broke the stillness, his voice calm but heavy. “Pure spirits, vengeful spirits, ghost fetuses… it all connects now. Fear and rumors—public opinion itself—can kill.”

Su Mingxuan’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Oh! I get it now. After Xiao Ying died giving birth, the villagers blamed her child—called him a ghost fetus. To protect him, the old grandmother spread rumors, pretending the baby was cursed so no one would dare approach.”

Zheng Qin nodded slowly. “Because Xiao Ying summoned ghosts—not just kind ones, but vengeful spirits too. The terror that spread through the village came from those vengeful ghosts… but the pure ones, the good spirits, have been protecting her family all along.”

Chen Xiangchao said, “So Grandma claimed it was safest because after the soul-summoning ritual, she could see those pure ghosts. She saw her deceased son, and then those benevolent spirits staged supernatural incidents to scare villagers away from the old mansion—just to protect her child!”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Throw flowers! Throw flowers!”

Su Mingxuan threw both hands up, laughing. “We cracked it!”

“Don’t celebrate too soon—we still haven’t found the ghost’s ally,” Chen Xiangchao cautioned.

Zheng Qin frowned. “But if the ghost’s ally is protecting its family… should we really be hunting it down?”

“Of course we should,” Shen Xuzhi murmured, leaning against the wall. His eyes lifted slowly, voice low and even. “Our employer hired us to investigate the estate’s rumors. Meanwhile, the ghost’s ally is here to keep us from leaving. We’re not on the same side.”

Chen Xiangchao nodded, then turned to Zheng Qin with mock suspicion. “Qin-jie, don’t you want to find the ally? You’d make a prime suspect.”

Zheng Qin scoffed. “Xiangchao, you’re supposed to be our puzzle prodigy, but you were the last to finish the single-path quest—even slower than Xuanxuan! What were you doing, handing over clues to the ghost?”

Su Mingxuan gasped in protest. “Slower than me? What do you mean by that? That’s cruel!”

“The puzzle was super complicated!” Chen Xiangchao exclaimed, joining in. “Seriously, Qin, how could you bully Xuanxuan like that? He’s adorable! You’re usually the one spoiling him. Are you just trying to change the subject?”

Their playful bickering filled the air.

Qing Lin quietly said he would check the inner chamber for escape clues and slipped inside.

The barrier closed behind him with a soft click. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the red lamp. He crouched by the crib, examining the carved patterns on its frame.

The intricate designs were coated with dark lacquer—a magpie with its beak open, revealing a hollow space within.

Qing Lin reached inside, fingertips brushing the emptiness. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing.

A faint crease formed between his brows. Perhaps his deduction was wrong. Just as he began to rise, a voice came from behind him.

“Looking for this?”

Qing Lin spun around.

Shen Xuzhi stood there silently, the shadows outlining his tall figure. His dark eyes glimmered beneath the lamplight, and in his hand, he held a small, square white card. A lazy, knowing smile played on his lips.

Qing Lin’s gaze dropped to the card. His hand curled into a fist as he stepped forward, reaching to snatch it.

But Shen Xuzhi moved with effortless grace—sidestepping his attempt, circling behind him, and capturing his wrist with precise strength. A light twist, a soft pull, and Qing Lin found himself pressed against the wall.

The motion was firm but careful—fingers pressing just enough into the curve of his wrist to restrain, not to hurt.

Shen Xuzhi braced one hand against the wall, shielding Qing Lin’s head, and pinned both wrists with the other. His presence loomed close, their breaths mingling. Warmth radiated between them, heavy with tension.

Qing Lin’s pulse quickened. “When did you notice?” he whispered.

Shen Xuzhi’s lips curved. He leaned in, voice brushing his ear—low, husky, threaded with a quiet smile.

“I’ve been watching you all along.”

The citrus scent of him lingered in the air. His breath was warm, his tone calm, deliberate.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “You’ve been perfect. They still don’t suspect a thing. Solving their puzzles while completing two missions at once—that’s impressive. It’s just…”

Qing Lin couldn’t see Shen Xuzhi’s face, only felt how close he was—an intense presence, overwhelming yet undeniable, yet at the same time radiating complete care and tenderness.

“Sorry, Ghost’s ally.”

Shen Xuzhi straightened, pulling Qing Lin away from the wall. His hand still held him fast as the other reached across his chest, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his clothes. From an inner pocket, he retrieved a small red clay object shaped like a lipstick.

He raised it to the light. Etched upon the casing was a single character—“Ghost.”

Shen Xuzhi flicked the red clay into the crib with a careless motion. “As your suitor, I apologize for my lack of manners,” he said, his tone steady yet edged with something faintly regretful. “But for the sake of victory, please allow me to hand you over to the organization.”

“I trust you’d make the same choice.”

Silence hung heavy between them. Outside, faint voices argued, but within the small chamber, only their breathing could be heard—the sound of hearts beating too close, too fast.

Shen Xuzhi, seeing no reaction, assumed Qing Lin had yielded.

But in the next instant, the body restrained before him suddenly twisted—and threw itself against his chest.

Qing Lin’s wrists were still bound, yet his movement was swift and deliberate. He collided with Shen Xuzhi, closing the scant distance between them. Their bodies met with an audible thud.

Shen Xuzhi froze, his instincts flaring. He took a half-step back, only to meet Qing Lin’s eyes.

Those clear, translucent eyes matched his fair skin, instantly capturing attention even in the dim light.

Shen Xuzhi stalled for a moment, and Qing Lin seized the opening to break free from his control.

Wriggling his wrist loose, Qing Lin hooked Shen Xuzhi’s ankle, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto the soft mat on the floor.

The two of them collapsed, a muffled thud echoing through the dimness.

Qing Lin straddled him in one fluid motion, knees braced on either side, his fingers gripping the collar of Shen Xuzhi’s shirt. The man looked down at him, the corners of his eyes curling into a triumphant smile. “You weren’t wrong,” he said.

Shen Xuzhi felt dazed for a moment, but then saw Qing Lin lower his head, tug open his collar and press a kiss to his collarbone.

The cool lips immediately felt like fire against his skin, scorching through him. Whether intentional or not, the kiss was gentle yet firm, leaving a lingering heat.

In the dim corridor where a hundred spirits carried the palanquin, the ghostly bride smiled sweetly and slipped a cinnabar paste into Qing Lin’s pocket.

[Fate had brought us together. We sincerely invite you to join us. Should you encounter extraordinary difficulties, reinforcements may be summoned. Simply stamp this red seal upon the person of your desire and declare——]

“Become mine.”

Crimson lipstick still lingered on Qing Lin’s lips, smeared into a faint trace that stretched slightly toward the corners.

The other half of that scarlet mark remained on Shen Xuzhi’s collarbone—vivid, striking, and impossible to erase. A mark of assimilation.

Who would have thought Qing Lin had such a trick hidden up his sleeve? By smearing the red paste onto his lips, he had succeeded in completing the assimilation even after Shen Xuzhi discovered and discarded it.

Ha.

Brilliant.

Qing Lin still looked as pure and obedient as ever, yet the faint lipstick stain on his lips added an edge of sensuality that was impossible to ignore.

“For victory, you’re willing to let me use you, aren’t you, husband?”

His smile deepened, dazzlingly beautiful beneath the dim light.

Shen Xuzhi met those luminous eyes and forced an unsteady, almost exhilarated smile.

Crazy.