Chapter 37 306

I climbed out of the pedicab, paid the driver, checked the faded number on the gate, and found that the address did indeed match the one written on the post-it note. I couldn’t help but feel a little creeped out—it looked like one of those “haunted” abandoned buildings we used to explore when we were kids. Why would someone tell me come to a place like this? Was anyone even living here?

The driver was still counting the money I had given him, so I turned and asked him who lived there.

The driver shook his head and said that he didn’t know. All he knew was that it was a sanatorium built in the 1960s. Golmud was a military city with a lot of high-ranking officers, and many national leaders often came for inspections. This sanatorium was where the leaders stayed at that time. In the mid-1980s, the sanatorium was closed and converted into a theater. That was around the time he moved here. But the world was always changing, and the once prosperous city started to decline. He said that I was lucky to have met him; any other pedicab drivers wouldn’t have been able to find this place.

As I listened, I couldn’t help but feel a little skeptical. But then the driver took off, and I was left standing alone on the street. It was dark all around, except for the dim street light in front of the building. I was a little scared, but then I remembered that I had entered ancient tombs in the middle of the night before—what was there to be afraid of in an old building like this? Feeling much braver, I tried to push the gate open.

There was a fence surrounding the building, but the arched mahogany gate in front of me didn’t have a handle or knocker. After trying to push it open a few times, I found that it was locked on the other side with an iron chain. But this kind of obstacle wasn’t enough to stop me—I looked around and noticed how close the street light was to the fence, so I quickly climbed up it and jumped over the fence. This was a skill I used to cause mischief when I was a child, but I was glad to see that I hadn’t lost it yet.

The courtyard inside was full of weeds, but when I jumped down, I could tell that there were blue bricks underfoot—the weeds must have grown up through the gaps between the bricks. There was also a dead tree in the courtyard that was leaning against the fence on one side.

As I approached the small building, I flicked my lighter on and took a look around, only now realizing how dilapidated it was—there were decorative carved patterns on the windows, which were sagging with age and covered in cobwebs. The main door was sealed shut and locked with iron chains.

I pulled a window open and carefully climbed inside, finding that the floor was paved with blue bricks and covered in a thick layer of dust. Behind the main door was a lobby with nothing in it, making it seem especially empty. I raised my lighter higher, carefully looked around, and found that this place seemed a little familiar. After trying to remember where I saw it before, I suddenly broke out in a cold sweat.

This lobby was where “I” had crawled on the ground in A Ning’s video.

I’ve come to the right place, I said to myself. I moved to stand where I thought the video had been taken and found that the angle of those blue bricks and carved windows was exactly the same. Now I was even more certain that my guess was correct.

Feeling a mixture of fear and excitement in my heart, I continued moving forward. There was a simple wooden spiral staircase to the left of the lobby, which led to the second floor. I crept over to it and looked up, but there was only darkness overhead.

I pulled the key out of my pocket and looked at the number—306. That should be on the third floor.

But something was strange—I looked down at the steps and found that while they were covered in a thick layer of dust, I could also see some footprints. Obviously, someone had been here recently.

I gently placed my foot on the first step and put my weight on it—it made a creaking sound, but seemed like it would support my weight, so I gritted my teeth and carefully made my way up.

The endless darkness above me and the creaking sound of the wood made me a little nervous, but it wasn’t as scary as an ancient tomb, so I managed to keep my nerves in check.

Once I reached the second floor, I found that the entrance had been sealed with a cement wall. There wasn’t a door, but I knew based on the layout downstairs that there should be several rooms behind the cement wall. I wasn’t sure why they were sealed off, but I could tell that the wall had been hastily put up based on the rough workmanship.

I touched the wall, wondering if there had been some structural problems in the building so it was put up as reinforcement.

But there was no point in thinking about it; I didn’t have the extra energy to consider such questions at this time. I continued to the third floor, where I saw a dark corridor with rooms on both sides. The air was filled with an unpleasant musty odor and there was no light under any of the doors, indicating that no one was here.

I cautiously stepped into the corridor, dodged all the cobwebs, and looked at the faded, dust-covered numbers on the doors. As I continued walking and checking the numbers, I felt a little like the protagonist in one of those Western suspense films. Soon, I reached the second to last door in the corridor, raised my hot lighter up, and looked at the number on the door—a faded 306 could be seen on the lintel.

At that moment, I was tempted to knock on the door, but then I realized how ridiculous that was. I hesitated for a while before pulling the key out, inserting it into the keyhole, and turning it. There was a soft click, and when I pushed the door open, it swung in easily with a loud creak.

The room was small and very dark inside, the smell of mildew even stronger than it was out in the corridor. I poked my head into the room and found that light from the street lamp outside was streaming in through a window off to one side, revealing the general details of the room. Dark shadows from all the furniture placed against the walls made it hard to see everything clearly, but I could tell at a glance that no one was in the room.

I took a deep breath, carefully stepped inside, and raised my already hot lighter, its weak light just enough for me to see everything clearly.

This was someone’s bedroom, as evidenced by the small bed placed in the corner. The musty smell was coming from the bed, and when I took a closer look, I found that the quilt on it was black with rot. The smell was absolutely nauseating. I could see a bulge under the quilt, and thought it was a dead body at first, but when I took a closer look, I found that it was just the way it was bunched up.

Beside the bed was an old wooden writing desk, just like the ones we used to use in elementary school. It was covered in a thick layer of dust and rubbish, such as rags, scraps of paper, and even bits of plaster that had fallen from the ceiling.

Next to the desk was a large cupboard that was at least three or four meters wide and taller than I was. One of the doors on it had cracked, probably a result of the wood swelling up due to moisture. I looked at the ceiling above it and saw that there were a lot of black spots and water stains where the ceiling met the wall—obviously, the roof leaked whenever it rained.

The place looked like it had been abandoned for a long time, at least more than five years based on how dilapidated it was. But even though the building was old, it was still just an ordinary old building. Why did the person who sent the videos lure me here? What information did they want me to find in this place?

At this time, my uneasiness gradually started to fade as I adapted to the environment. I put my lighter on the desk and began to rummage through the drawers, pulling them out one by one. But they were all basically empty. There were two drawers with old newspapers stuffed inside, but they were moldy so I didn’t dare touch them.

If there was nothing in the drawers, maybe I’d find something by the bed? I walked up to it and looked underneath, but there was nothing but cobwebs. Then I took one of the desk drawers and used it to pull the moldy, wadded-up quilt away from the mattress to see if there was anything wrapped up in it. But after tugging a few times, some kind of sticky black liquid full of bugs came out of the quilt, the musty smell so strong that I almost threw up.

I finally managed to tug the quilt to the floor, but I still didn’t find anything. In fact, it only took a few tugs to realize that there was nothing inside. Who in their right mind would hide something in such a disgusting place?

Since both items were a bust, the only thing left was the big cupboard, but it appeared to be locked. Although the door was cracked, it would still take some effort and tools to open it.

I didn’t bring anything with me, so I had to look around to see if I could find anything that could help. Luckily, I found something on the windowsill— the window had an old-fashioned latch that could be pulled out. Although it was very rusted, the old latch was solid and very sturdy. I pulled it out, inserted it into the cracked cupboard door, and used it as a crow bar to expand the crack until I could fit my fingers in. Then, I placed one foot against the other door, put my hand into the crack, and pulled with all my strength. The door made a horrible groaning sound as it bent towards me before giving way with a loud crack, sending a cloud of dust into the air that momentarily blinded me.

The building was so quiet that the sounds seemed especially loud and frightening. In fact, the harsh sound of the cupboard door finally breaking scared me to the point that I broke out in a cold sweat. It took me a while to recover, but when I did, I picked up my lighter and looked inside the cupboard.

I had no idea what might be inside, but I knew there was a chance I’d find nothing at all, so I didn’t bother mentally preparing myself. But when I looked, I froze in shock.

There really was nothing inside the cupboard—it was completely empty—but the back panel was missing, revealing a dark hole in the cement wall that was half as tall as a person. Inside the hole, a cement staircase leading downward could be seen, but I didn’t know where it led to.

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