THE EXECUTIONER
Part One
1
Lydia shivered.
She had been standing outside the teaching building for a long time.
The rumors about "the Executioner" were circulating through campus again, and not a single girl dared to walk alone at night anymore. Especially not along that long, dark wooded path connecting the teaching building to the women's dormitory—treacherously slick whenever it rained, and nicknamed by the male students "Jade Gate Pass."
Lydia understood the risqué double meaning behind that moniker, but it did nothing to dilute the fear coiling in her chest.
Just half a month ago, a female art instructor from the modeling department had been murdered at Jade Gate Pass. The body was in a horrific state—over a dozen wounds from what appeared to be a heavy bladed weapon, hacked and slashed as though by axe or cleaver. By the time she was found the next morning, the blood had long since drained away, leaving a pale corpse that resembled a slab of bloated squid.
Lydia didn't know the victim personally, but she had plenty of contact with the dead woman's boyfriend—Jared Yates, a young counselor in the chemistry department.
Jared Yates had strong features and a tall, upright build. He was the white knight in many female students' fantasies, Lydia included. To be fair, Jared Yates had always treated her well—both of them hailed from the same rural county in northern Jiangsu, children of the countryside who had fought their way to this university. When it came to financial aid and scholarships, he had looked out for her more than once.
After the murder, Lydia visited him in his office. The once-handsome, composed Jared Yates looked as though his soul had been scooped out—haggard and hollow-eyed. It made her heart ache to see him this way.
The brutal killing sent the old campus legend spiraling into overdrive.
It seemed like every university had its own horror story, tinged with local flavor and cultural DNA. According to the legend, late at night, a masked figure—wearing a plastic mask—roamed the campus, stalking girls who walked alone. No one had ever seen the face beneath the mask, because every girl who had encountered him turned up dead.
This tale had been circulating at the university of technology for God knows how long—perhaps since its founding. In the whispered version passed from student to student, the figure carried a rusty axe caked with dried blood, and so people called him "the Executioner"—a moniker with an almost classical horror ring to it.
The legend was so pervasive that at every freshman orientation, the university president himself would address it, angrily dismissing the Executioner as pure fabrication—a smear campaign by rival institutions.
On the campus BBS, defenders of the university argued that if the legend had been circulating for so many years, surely the Executioner couldn't be immortal. But psychology students proposed another theory: "delusion of guilt." They argued that the campus legend functioned as a self-fulfilling contract, giving form to the fantasies of psychopaths—which meant that every generation would spawn its own Executioner.
As if to validate this theory, several girls had recently reported being followed by suspicious figures at night. One girl even claimed, with absolute certainty, that the stalker had been wearing a horrifying plastic mask. No one had been physically harmed, but the campus was on edge.
Under these circumstances, Lydia was even more terrified of walking back alone. She cursed herself for staying at the study room so late.
A gust of cold wind hit her, and she pulled her brother's old woolen coat tighter around herself. On her petite frame, the coat hung loose and shapeless, but it saved the expense of buying a new one. Lydia—who was bright, excellent in her studies, and by all measures a top student—had only enrolled at this second-rate university for one crucial reason: her older brother, Aaron, was also studying here. With the siblings together, they could look after each other.
Lydia racked her brain and realized the only person who might come get her at this hour was her brother. She pulled out her phone and sent Aaron a voice message: "Ge, if you're still awake, can you come walk me back from the teaching building?"
The message went unanswered. Lydia figured her brother had already fallen asleep. No choice left—she gritted her teeth, braved the drizzle, and plunged into Jade Gate Pass alone.
The path was slick and unlit. Lydia stumbled the entire way, tripping over something she didn't dare identify. By the time she reached the dormitory, her roommates were already asleep. She climbed into bed in the dark, and it wasn't until morning that she discovered her coat was covered in dried blood.
Shocking news swept through the school like wildfire. Lydia finally understood whose blood it was.
That night, another murder occurred at Jade Gate Pass—but the circumstances were unlike anything before. The dead man had been wearing a corroded plastic mask, his face burned beyond recognition. Beside him lay a sharp hatchet. The police found a phone on his body, and when they turned it on, an unread voice message popped up: "Ge, if you're still awake, can you come walk me back from the teaching building?"
Lydia was brought in for police questioning. So was Aaron's roommate, Zack Hart—because based on the crime scene, Aaron was the legendary Executioner, and the man who had discovered and killed him was none other than his own roommate.
Everyone on campus now knew that Zack Hart had been obsessed with proving the existence of the Executioner. Like Sherlock Holmes, he had spent every day searching for clues. For a long time, everyone thought he was crazy—deranged, even. Teachers had called him in for heart-to-heart talks. But this time, the facts vindicated him. Zack Hart was now the most talked-about figure on campus.
2
Zack Hart felt empty.
He didn't lack for money—his father was in municipal engineering, and the family was loaded. The children of wealth always hungered for something in the spiritual realm, and what Zack Hart hungered for was a girl he could truly love.
It wasn't until a mixer event that he laid eyes on Lucy from the chemistry department that he understood: this was it. This was the one. Lucy's aloof elegance, her striking figure, her exquisite features—everything about her embodied his very definition of "goddess."
Zack Hart launched a full-court press. At first, he deliberately kept his family background out of it—he didn't want his romantic pursuits reeking of money. Like any ordinary college suitor, he waited for her before morning classes, delivered fresh jianbing guozi, and walked her back to the dorm after evening sessions, wrapping her in his considerate warmth.
But through all of this, Lucy merely observed. She never let any of it reach her heart. Her frost remained absolute.
Zack Hart grew anxious. In all his years, he had never failed to get what he wanted. So he decided to deploy his ultimate weapon.
That day, when Lucy got out of class, she found a white Porsche parked by the curb. Under the gaze of her classmates, a sunglass-wearing Zack Hart opened the door, strode over, and gave an exaggerated bow. "Classmate Lulu, would you do me the honor of joining me for lunch?"
Lucy smiled coolly, slid into the passenger seat, and off they went—leaving a chorus of wolf whistles from the male students in their wake.
They went to a famous steakhouse. Two filet mignons, a bottle of red wine, some hors d'oeuvres, gentle music—it was quietly romantic. Through the floor-to-ceiling window, Zack Hart glanced at the Porsche outside and asked, "Do you like it?"
Lucy laughed. "So what if I like it? You're going to give it to me?"
"No problem."
Lucy lifted her wine glass with easy grace and took a sip. "Even without you, I'd have a Porsche sooner or later. It's just a matter of time. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not in a hurry."
Zack Hart was stunned. This woman was truly extraordinary—her poise and her intellect had completely captured him. He decided to stop beating around the bush. "Lulu, tell me the truth—what kind of man do you actually like?"
"Do you know why humans dominate all other species?"
"Because... humans freed their hands?"
"Great apes freed their hands too, and they're still locked in zoos, aren't they?"
"Then why?"
"Intelligence." Lucy tapped her temple. "It's only here that true power is decided."
"You mean—you like smart men?"
"Exactly."
"Lulu, my IQ isn't bad either... Give me a chance to prove it, why don't you?"
"Want to test it?"
"I'll test it. No pain, no gain."
Lucy smiled. "Speaking of opportunities—there's one right in front of us. You know about the murder that happened on campus recently?"
"You mean the one involving Counselor Jared Yates's girlfriend?"
"That's the one. Who do you think did it?"
"The police haven't solved it yet... You're not telling me you think the Executioner did it, are you?"