Chapter 69: The Haunted School, Sunshine Doll (7)

“Shh, don’t talk nonsense.”
The other students immediately stopped him. “The teacher forbade us from discussing this, yet you’re still talking. Tang Mu’s mother has been putting up banners at the school for over a month now. But she really is quite bold—one of her daughters died here, yet she still sends the other one in... Most people wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Well, it’s because our school has the highest chance of getting into the top junior high.” Another student snidely implied that Tang Mu’s mother was obsessed with turning her daughter from a sparrow into a phoenix.
“For parents, isn’t it true that as long as there’s even a one-in-ten-thousand chance their child could rise above others, they’ll seize it? But do they ever care what we go through at school? As long as the grades look good on the report card, whatever you do is right. If the grades aren’t good, then whatever you do is wrong.”
“Exactly!”
“It’s exam time.” Ms. Li’s fierce gaze pierced through them. “No whispering. Do I need to repeat such a basic exam rule again?”
Scolded, the students dared not retaliate, only burying their heads and trembling as they wrote on their papers.
After all, if they lost points for talking during the exam, they’d surely get a beating at home.
Ignoring the turbulent undercurrents between classmates, Tang Mu calmly opened her test paper and began reading the question.
But there was only one question on the paper.
1+1=?
Someone wrote 2 straight away. Then, the head of his sunshine doll suddenly detached, rolling from the neck to the table.
The student froze.
His intuition told him that the sunshine doll’s sudden decapitation surely heralded something bad, with consequences impossible to foresee.
“Uh... Teacher, my sunshine doll lost its head. Can I request a replacement?”
Ms. Li stared at him with venom, as if he’d committed a terrible crime.
“There are only forty-nine dolls. If it’s broken, there’s no replacement.”
“What about mine...”
“Come to my office later.”
O-okay then.
The student finished the paper, but with only one question, there was nothing else to do.
He could only sit there blankly, waiting.
No matter how much he tried to kill time, there was nothing more to be done.
Other students, thinking the answer couldn’t be 2, wrote 3.
Then their dolls’ heads also rolled off.
3... 3 isn’t right either?
Within five minutes, seven or eight sunshine dolls had already lost their heads in the classroom.

Someone suddenly spoke up, “I remember, when Tang Mu died, her head was separated from her body. After all, it was the sixth floor—even if she were a fairy, after falling, her body couldn’t possibly remain whole.”
“Is that true?”
“I swear it’s true! When she fell, I was leaning over the railing, watching!”
The classroom sank into a strange, deathly silence.
No one wanted to comment on that student’s boldness.
Because the headless sunshine dolls and the single-question math test were already eerie enough.
As for how Tang Mu died, they really didn’t want to know.
Some students, after writing their answer, didn’t lose their doll’s head.
But their answer to “1+1=?” was also 2.
??
What’s going on? How can the same answer leave some dolls intact, while others break?
Liu Qiongying and Li Meiqi, both gripping their pens, faces full of terror.
They dared not write down an answer.
They knew exactly what they had done.
Teachers and parents only cared about grades. They appeared to be well-behaved and high-achieving, but their secret rivalry never stopped. Isolation, insults, extortion, deliberate harm—whatever they could think of, they had inflicted on Tang Mu.
Tang Mu ultimately chose to leap from the sixth floor. Besides Ziyu Shu’s involvement, they bore undeniable responsibility.
But... when they bullied Tang Mu, she never resisted. Her lack of resistance meant she accepted everything they did!
The weak have no right to speak!
Even in a small campus, the law of the strong prevails!
But... but they still didn’t dare to answer this question.
As for what they were afraid of, perhaps only they themselves knew.
Tang Mu didn’t move her pen.
She twirled it.
Her gaze fell upon Ziyu Shu.
After so many years, looking at Ziyu Shu again, Tang Mu felt no ripple within. The love, longing, and hatred once harbored had vanished. But if she could give him a final push at the moment of his death, she would gladly do so.
She had indeed let go of this person.
But that didn’t mean she was a benevolent saint willing to save all.

Perhaps Tang Mu’s gaze was too blatant. Ziyu Shu glanced back at her.
His eyes still held a maturity and depth beyond his age. But to the now grown Tang Mu, Ziyu Shu seemed childish and laughable.
After a glance, Ziyu Shu chose to ignore her and continued working on his test.
His paper was filled with answers.
Tang Mu took a peek.
She almost laughed.
Ziyu Shu had written over a dozen answers:
1. 1+1 equals 2.
2. When units differ, like 1 hour plus 1 minute equals 61 minutes.
3. In sharp turns, 1 plus 1 is 11.
4. 1. For example, one drop of water plus another equals one drop.
5. In riddles, 1 plus 1 is ten. Wang, Feng, Sa, Tian...
6. 1+1=14 (one week plus one week is 14 days).
7. 1+1=120 (one minute plus one minute is 120 seconds).
8. 1+1=7200 (one hour plus one hour is 7,200 seconds).
9. 1+1=60 (a 30-day month plus another 30-day month is 60 days); 1+1=62 (a 31-day month plus another 31-day month is 62 days).
...
Such complicated thinking.
When Tang Mu’s gaze was noticed, Ziyu Shu frowned, folded his paper, and hid it, refusing to let her see more answers.
“Tch.” Tang Mu mocked him lightly. “Just a few answers—what difference does it make if someone sees them? Will it affect your score, your ranking? Or do you simply want to survive while hoping everyone else dies?”
Tang Mu’s words caused several nearby students to look at Ziyu Shu with discontent and resentment.
Even those who were friendly with him subtly urged him to share his answers, so they could pass the exam smoothly, avoiding the destruction of their sunshine dolls.
—They sensed that the doll might be crucial to their survival.