A wave of fear descended on me as what the old university guard said to me gradually sank in. Being in trade of dealing with the supernatural, it was hardly a coincidence that my first thoughts wondered that this might have been the doing of something otherworldly. With hurriedness and concern showing on my face, I muttered to the old man, “I must go up to have a look. My teacher…” But the old man stopped me in my tracks, saying, “She’s no longer upstairs. She was the first to be stretchered off into the ambulance that day.”

I ignored the old man and immediately rushed towards the rooms where training lessons for zithers were held. “Why did no one notice the incongruity and queerness of all the sicknesses? Why was only the students and teachers of the zither class riddled with this strange sickness? Something must be wrong,” I thought.

As I walked through the doors of the classroom, I met head-on with a young lady whom I asked sharply, “Hi there, is there anyone in the zither classrooms?” The girl sized me up before she replied, saying, “I am one of the students here. Can I help you?” But hers was a face that I neither knew nor recognized; hence she could be one of the juniors here. I said, “Ah… You must be a junior of mine then. I’m a senior of this class. Where are the rest of the others?” The girl gave me a scrutinizing look, the doubt and suspicion evident in the glimmer of her eyes as she mumbled, “Senior? But I have never seen you here before…” I shook my head in exasperation and said, “My name is Shiyan, Murong Shiyan.” Murong Shiyan was my full name; the name, as per my identity card, which I only used on formal occasions. But due to the length of my name, I was mostly addressed only as Shiyan. Having a name that really stood out, I was sure that my name was one that many would remember, especially within the circles of students of the zither class here.

At the mention of my name, I noticed a hint of recognition flickering in her eyes as she spoke, “Aye… I guess I did hear of a person with this name… But you look different from your photo…” I cut her short, having no stomach for any of her airheaded nonsense and snapped, “Where are the others? I heard that everyone had become sick? What happened here?” The girl was instantly shocked by my stern demeanor and grew frightened, stammering, “There’s only another student and me here now. The rest of the others have been taken to the hospital by ambulance.” I felt a cold dread creeping down my spine, but I immediately grabbed at her wrist and dragged her with me to the zither classrooms. Oddly, as I pulled her with me, I heard the girl breathing heavily, although she did nothing to yank herself free from my grip, following me to the classrooms. As we walked, I asked, “Was our teacher the first one to fall ill?” She mumbled an incomprehensible “Yes” and said no more, evidently oblivious to my suspicions, then I asked again, “What day was it when our teacher fall ill?” “Last week,” said the girl, “I was no in too then. Therefore I know only snippets of the incident.”

We came before the door of the classroom where we stopped outside. As a safety precaution, I made use of my Spirit Sight to peer inward. Even though the Spirit Sight only bestowed me the ability to perceive the flow of spiritual energies, the foul energies emitted by ghosts and spirits were also visible to me; hence alerting me to their presence if they lurked nearby. But I saw only an empty classroom, free of any spiritual energies. I turned back to look at my junior and she too stared at me before fishing out a set of keys to unlock the door. Once entering, I stood at the doorway, examining the classroom. Still, I found nothing out of the ordinary. Could I be mistaken, I whispered to myself. Realizing my strange and wary poise, the junior girl asked hesitantly, “Wh-what’s going on, Senior Shiyan…” Her words jerked me back from my momentary stupor. I turned to her, finding her breathing heavily with her cheeks burning scarlet pink. Fearfully, she asked slowly, “What is happening, Senior… Everyone else from the other classes was saying that our entire zither class must have encountered something bad that now only me and another student is left… Could the rumors be true? What’s going to happen to us?” She faltered, looking as if on the verge of crying, but I had neither the patience nor the stomach to comfort her right now. I asked bluntly, “Was there anything in particular that had taken place before everyone fell ill?”

She shook her head, saying nothing. “No? How is that possible,” I thought. Still, an obtuse “I don’t know” was simply the answer she could give me. Feeling mildly perturbed by her lack of awareness in the incident, I managed to ask again, “What has happened in the university recently?” “Nothing much,” she said, “The university board had agreed to expand the grounds, and building works had just begun last week. Nothing else.” “That’s all?” I wondered. I shook my head and turned. But as I spun, I seemed to see something at the corners of my eyes. My head jerked backward instinctively. Yet, nothing. A stab of fear and dread came to me. Something was terribly wrong here, I could feel. I scanned across the room again carefully. The classroom looked exactly the same as how it was when I ended my studies here. Rows and files of desks neatly spaced from one another with zithers sitting quietly atop, patiently biding the time before their strings would once again be strummed. The nostalgia of once again standing in my old classroom overwhelmed me. I could almost see the wistful silhouette of my teacher, the instructor of zither lessons, Yang Na, standing atop a dais, as how she usually would when she was teaching in my class. Suddenly, I noticed, on the lecturer’s desk on the dais, was another zither…

“Wait a minute,” I thought. There was indeed something peculiar with the zither on the teacher’s desk! My senses, long honed by my various experiences and encounters with the mystic and paranormal, tingled. I rushed on to the dais and bent down to study this unusual zither. One, two, three… thirteen! I counted thirteen strings! This was not my teacher’s usual zither! It was a completely different zither! Contemporary zithers nowadays had twenty-one strings while this was a zither with only thirteen strings; this was a zither from an ancient age! I discovered residue of dirt and soot on the surface of the zither. This could only mean one thing: this zither was recently dug up from the ground! Gently, I placed a hand on the strings of the zither and softly plucked at its strings. As the strings quivered, there was the unmistakable effluence of a cold and ghastly aura exuding from within the zither!

The hairs on my back were standing on their ends as I was oddly reminded of the school expansion project the junior girl mentioned. Was this instrument unearthed during the project? I stood up abruptly. The junior girl beside me must have been caught unawares by my sudden movement that she nearly jumped. I turned to her and asked her pointedly, “You said that there was a school expansion project going on. Was this zither found during then?” But all she could give me was another “I don’t know”, topped by her head shaking dumbly. I was on the brink of bursting, the infuriating frustration of her complete bewilderment threatens to erupt. Still, I was aware that the first order of business was to make sure of the zither’s origins. Heaven forfend if the thirteen-stringed zither was indeed dug up from the ground! Things would be terrible and really bad! It had not escaped my notice that the strings on the zither were a fresh set of strings; someone, it was most likely that my teacher, Yang Na, was the one who had furnished the zither with new strings and she would most undoubtedly have plucked the strings of the cursed zither to test it. This would have culminated in the unexplainable outbreak which now had everyone from the class hospitalized! This must be the reason! I rushed to the class next door, where a Pipa lesson was conducted and spoke to the teacher present. The teacher revealed to me that some of the builders had dug up a wooden board last week when the building project began. One of the instructors of the school, a teacher of archaeology, was present. At the teacher’s behest, the board was handed in for examination and was determined that it was an ancient zither from an unknown era. Hence the board was then passed on to Yang Na for further inspection.

With a summary of the entire story now made clear, I returned to the zither classroom and said to the junior girl, “Bring me to the hospital where everyone is at.”

We spoke nothing along the way. When we reached the hospital, I found out that everyone from the zither class was isolated and quarantined until the doctor could determine what was wrong. All of them displayed the same symptoms—breathing problems and lethargic drowsiness or even comatose. Outside of the quarantine ward, I saw a pack of people, worried sick with anxiety with a cloud of grim sorrow above them. They must be the parents and family of the afflicted, I guessed. With my Spirit Sight I looked into the ward through the glass windows and felt goosebumps breaking all over me! There was a heavy smog of dark, deathly energies swirling above them, lingering over them like an apparition of doom!

It was evident that everyone was poisoned by the dark energies, thus their drowsiness and unconsciousness. It must be that ancient zither which had been unearthed during the expansion project. The site where the work was being done must have been an old tomb! In truth, ancient tombs or graves from the bygone age were easily encountered. But not many people these days could easily recognize them, especially if these ancient burial pits had no markers or headstones to mark its significance. But that would explain why an archaeology lecturer was present during the dig; he must have noticed something was not right. As the instructor of zither music classes, the zither would, beyond any doubt, come to her and she would most expectedly fix a brand-new set of strings on to it…

With the entirety of the story at hand, I extracted the Spirit Gourd that my father had given to me from within the folds of my pocket…

End of Volume One