IMAG Chapter 1

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On his way to school, Xiaolin witnessed a horrific car accident.

The red light was glaringly bright, yet the driver, as if blind, sped through the intersection. The car shot forward, slamming into a pedestrian crossing the street.

It happened in less than a second—so fast that no one had time to react. Bystanders stood frozen, watching the tragedy unfold.

The pedestrian was flung high into the air before crashing down heavily. His body lay twisted unnaturally on the ground, blood and brain matter spilling everywhere.

Xiaolin stared blankly at the blood splattered on his shoes. He realized that if he had taken just one more step forward, he would have met the same fate.

The police and ambulance arrived quickly, throwing the scene into chaos. But seeing that he was about to be late, Xiaolin had no time to go home and change his shoes—he rushed straight to school.

All day in class, he felt an overwhelming sense of unreality. His heart was uneasy, and no matter how hard he tried, the image of the accident kept replaying in his mind. The pedestrian soaring through the air, his skull bursting open—it was impossible to shake off.

Distracted and restless, he barely listened to a single lesson.

That evening, when he got home, his mother was tidying up and happened to notice his shoes.

"Where have you been fooling around? Why are your shoes so filthy?" she asked.

After a whole day, the blood and brain matter had dried and fused into dark patches, looking almost like dirt from a muddy road.

A shiver ran down Xiaolin’s spine as the terrifying memory surged back. Without a second thought, he grabbed the shoes and ran outside to throw them away.

His mother scolded him for being wasteful, but when he explained the reason, her face changed. Muttering superstitiously, she said she would fetch some pomelo leaves to cleanse away the bad luck.

With endless exams piling up, Xiaolin couldn’t afford to slack off. After sitting at his desk lost in thought for a while, he shook off his nerves, pulled out his study book Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Mock Tests, and started working on problems.

As he worked, he suddenly felt a cool sensation near his ear, as if someone was breathing on him.

He turned his head—his window was slightly open, and the wind was blowing the curtains.

Xiaolin got up to close the window and then sat back down to continue his work.

If a line… and another line 4x + ky… then the constant k equals…

"Idiot, it’s -6."

A voice suddenly spoke in his ear.

Xiaolin, who had been biting his pen in deep thought, leaped three feet into the air, knocking over his chair.

He looked around in terror.

Of course, there was no one else in the room.

"I must be too tired and hallucinating," he reassured himself.

"Quit staring into space and get back to solving the problem!" the voice snapped again.

Xiaolin’s face turned deathly pale, then blue, then almost black with fear.

"You… who are you?" he stammered.

"I think I’m a ghost," the voice replied.

Xiaolin: "…What do you mean, think? Either you are or you aren’t!"

"Then I guess I am."

A sudden realization struck Xiaolin. "Are you the person who got hit by the car this morning?"

The ghost sounded surprised. "How did you know?"

Xiaolin: "I was walking right behind you this morning. I almost ended up like you… Wait, you’re not here to find a replacement, are you? I heard that when someone dies suddenly, they look for a substitute before they can reincarnate."

"That… might be true."

Xiaolin's heart pounded. He couldn’t see the ghost, so he had no idea what its intentions were.

Trying to stay calm, he pleaded, "Look, bro, I’m not handsome, I’m not a genius, and I remember you were tall, well-dressed, and in a suit. I’m definitely not your type. How about this—if you have any unfinished business, and if it’s something I can help with, I’ll do it. But taking a replacement is just wrong—you should move on to your next life properly."

The ghost sighed. "I can’t remember anything. I forgot my name, my address, my job—even my family and friends. The only thing I remember is getting hit by that car."

Xiaolin: "Alright, as long as you don’t hurt me, I’ll help however I can."

No one else could see the ghost, and only Xiaolin could hear its voice.

His mother walked in, carrying a plate of fruit.

Xiaolin asked, "Weren’t you going to get pomelo leaves to cleanse away bad luck?"

His mother hesitated. "I thought about it, but we have to believe in science. We live in a socialist country—we shouldn’t encourage feudal superstitions."

Xiaolin: "…?"

The ghost spoke up beside him: "Why don’t you find a monk or a Taoist priest? Maybe they can help me regain my memory and move on."

Xiaolin was impressed. This is a good ghost! he thought.

Most ghosts in horror movies were obsessed with revenge and refused to reincarnate, always looking for a scapegoat to take their place. But this one was actually asking to be exorcised—it had a surprisingly high level of self-awareness.

"Hey, are you even listening? I’m already on the tenth question, and you’re still stuck on the first! The answer is 14 square root, you idiot!"

Xiaolin: "…"

He checked the answer key—the ghost was right.

Even more impressively, the ghost had solved it all in its head without writing anything down.

Xiaolin was amazed. "Ghost bro, you should join The Brain!"

"What’s that?" the ghost asked.

"It’s a competition show for geniuses. Oh! You just used Northeastern slang—are you from the Northeast?"

"I forgot. Stop chatting and solve the next problem, you dummy!"

Xiaolin realized that the ghost had an unusual passion for solving math problems.

Or maybe it was just bored out of its mind and had nothing better to do.

More importantly, the ghost was incredibly smart. It must have been someone remarkable when it was alive.

With the ghost breathing down his neck, Xiaolin ended up completing several pages of homework in one night. The ghost was relentless, forcing him to keep going.

Xiaolin finally gave in. "I can’t do this anymore! I’m exhausted! Let me sleep, okay? I already finished more than what the teacher assigned!"

The ghost suddenly said, "I just remembered—I have unfinished business."

Xiaolin: "???"

Ghost: "You have to finish Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Mock Tests, or I’ll take you as my replacement."

Xiaolin: "…"

The Next Day, the Chinese teacher, in a sudden wave of enthusiasm, announced a pop quiz. The test paper was packed with densely written questions—not all needed to be completed, but students were encouraged to do as much as possible.

Xiaolin had always been strong in Chinese, so he confidently started writing.

But the ghost was still dissatisfied with his performance and kept nagging beside him.

"It’s ‘frost and dew stain clothes,’ not ‘frost and snow stain clothes’!"

Xiaolin grumbled, "This is an extra credit question. I should get points just for getting close!"

The ghost sneered, "And do you think the exam graders will be so lenient with you during the college entrance exam?"

A few seconds later, the ghost spoke again. "Pick C for that last question."

Xiaolin: "I think D is the right answer."

Ghost: "CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC..."

Xiaolin finally snapped. He shot up from his seat and yelled, "CAN YOU SHUT UP?!"

The whole class turned to stare.

Teacher: "Xiaolin, what are you doing?"

Xiaolin froze for a few seconds before quickly coming up with an excuse.

"Uh—Teacher, when I saw the exam paper, I was so overwhelmed with passion that I couldn’t hold it in. Listen to this—"

He took a deep breath and dramatically recited:

"The seagulls stand tall before the approaching storm—stand tall! They dash across the sea, trying to bury their fear of the storm into the ocean’s depths!"

The entire class burst into laughter.

Xiaolin’s face turned red. Since he had started this act, he had no choice but to commit to it.

Luckily, the Chinese teacher was a good-natured person and didn’t send him out into the hallway to recite poetry as punishment.

After the Exam

The ghost kept nagging. "You definitely got that reading comprehension question wrong..."

Xiaolin had had enough. He went online and searched for the Kṣitigarbha Sutra, determined to exorcise the ghost himself.

Surprisingly, the ghost was actually happy to hear this. Since it meant he could finally move on, he didn’t mind whether Kobayashi was doing it willingly or not.

That evening, after dinner, Xiaolin sat in his room and began chanting from the Original Vows of Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva Sutra, which he had downloaded from the internet.

"Shī bō luó mì yīn. Chàn tì bō luó mì yīn. Pí lí yé bō luó mì yīn. Chán bō luó mì yīn. Bān ruò bō luó mì yīn..."

Xiaolin couldn’t see the ghost, but he imagined it sitting upright, listening attentively.

Everything seemed to be progressing well.

Until—

"You mispronounced those two words. It’s ‘bō rě,’ not ‘bān ruò.’"

Xiaolin: "…"

Grinding his teeth, he continued chanting. "Bō suō world..."

Ghost: "It’s ‘Saha world.’"

Xiaolin snapped. "It’s just switching the order of two words!"

Ghost: "Do you know why it’s called ‘Saha’? It’s a transliteration from Sanskrit, meaning ‘endurance.’ The ‘Saha World’ refers to the Three Thousand Worlds under Śākyamuni Buddha’s teaching—"

Xiaolin endured half an hour of the ghost’s endless rambling before finally breaking down. "WHY do you remember all this, but not your own name or past? Are you messing with me on purpose?!"

Ghost: "Maybe we’re just fated to be connected."

Final Straw

Xiaolin decided to submit his story to a paranormal public account that collected ghost encounters.

But the comments were brutal:

["The quality of ghost stories these days is getting worse. This is basically elementary school-level fiction!"]

Xiaolin was so furious he nearly coughed up blood.

He made up his mind—he was going to tell his mom about the ghost and get her to find a real master to exorcise it once and for all!

T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi, thank you☕☕☕