It had been nearly two days since Tai Wei had last come to see him. That wasn't like him. Having focused all his energy on decoding Legends of the Hulan River, Fang Mu hadn't even realized what was happening.
And the fact that Tai Wei's phone had been off the whole time gave Fang Mu a faintly ominous feeling.
Please don't let anything have happened, please!
The road seemed unbearably long. Luckily he could already see the old KMT bunker. Fifty feet past that was a low fence marking the edge of the campus. Once he climbed over it, he could grab a cab in the small street beyond and take it to the PSB headquarters.
As he ran past the colossal concrete structure, it seemed to be silently gazing around at the lonely corner of campus.
Fang Mu's steps suddenly slowed.
He stared blankly at the section of bunker that rose above ground.
Seven?
As if drawn, Fang Mu walked slowly forward.
When he reached the entrance he saw that the bunker's rust-covered doors were unlocked. The iron chain that usually fastened them shut was nowhere to be seen.
He walked cautiously up to the doors, grabbed the rusty handle, and pushed hard.
The doors were old and would only open wide enough for one person to fit through. Cold, moldy air blew against Fang Mu's face. Inside it was pitch-black. He could only make out the space just beyond the entrance.
Taking a deep breath, he walked inside.
CHAPTER 28
Thanks to the sunlight filtering through the doorway, Fang Mu could see that an approximately 30-step-long cement stairway descended before him. He carefully began walking down one step at a time, but before long, the way was completely engulfed in darkness. When he looked back, he could only make out the thinnest ray of light coming from the doorway. After hesitating for several seconds, he gritted his teeth and carefully lowered one foot down until it reached the next stair. Continuing on this way for over a minute, he finally reached a section of flat cement.
His surroundings were pitch-black and terrifyingly silent. He stood in place for several seconds and did his best to look around, but in every direction it was too dark to even see his own fingers.
The darkness seemed to have a mass of its own, and as layer upon layer of it wrapped around him, Fang Mu quickly sensed its weight. His body felt heavier and heavier and his legs started to go limp.
Whether from fear or the cold air inside the bunker, Fang Mu's whole body began to tremble. He could even hear his teeth start to chatter. Suddenly, he remembered that he had his lighter in his pocket and he hurriedly pulled it out.
He flipped open the lid, flicked the wheel, and a small bright flame appeared in his hand.
No longer surrounded by darkness, Fang Mu discovered that he was standing in a large hall, roughly 360-square-feet in size.
The room was rectangular, made entirely of concrete, and empty except for some old desks stacked in the corners. A section of the wall directly in front of Fang Mu seemed a little different than the dark gray concrete around it. In the flickering light of the flame, it appeared to be a door.
The little flame actually made Fang Mu feel a lot warmer, and his body stopped shaking so violently. Pulling out his dagger, he took a deep breath and ventured forward.
It really was a door, or rather a pair of rust-covered doors shut together. Putting his hand on the crude, ice-cold door handle, he could tell it was free of dust. Someone had come that way recently.
Giving it a try, Fang Mu pulled hard on the door. It opened with an ear-piercing creak.
An even stronger odor of mold burst forth, choking him until he could barely breathe. He stood in place, holding up the thin flame of the lighter and surveying what was in front of him.
He seemed to be standing at one end of a long corridor. Suddenly he felt overcome by a nearly uncontrollable panic and his hand holding the lighter began to shake.
In the light of the flickering flame, the walls of the corridor appeared to sway. Feeling himself go lightheaded, Fang Mu quickly grabbed onto the door to steady himself.
His hand gripped the rough handle of the dagger in his palm, a contact that gradually calmed him. Composing himself, he did his best not to look at the pitch-black far end of the corridor and used the lighter to survey his surroundings.
Doors made of iron bars stood open several feet ahead of him, one on either side of the hallway. Rooms approximately 60-square-feet in size lay beyond them. Fang Mu could vaguely make out the shapes of dilapidated chairs and desks stacked inside.
A section of the arch above the door to the right had faded slightly. Looking closer, he saw that it was a heavily stained image of the KMT flag, below which was written a nearly illegible "1".
Fang Mu looked at the door on the right. The same symbol was on the arch, only this time the number "2" was written below it.
He understood. These were prison cells.
Unless he was wrong, Tai Wei should be in the fourth cell on the right.
Cell 7.
The thought of this made Fang Mu grow anxious. Raising the already burning-hot lighter, he walked slowly forward.
The floor beneath his feet was no longer cement, and as he walked, the gravel wedged in the soles of his shoes ground piercingly against its surface. It sounded like metal on metal. Looking down, he could vaguely see that he was standing atop a grate-work iron walkway.
He figured it was probably designed so that the guards at the time could monitor both floors at once.
Fang Mu continued with these thoughts as he walked forward, staring at prison cell number three. He drew closer and closer, no longer stopping. Suddenly he felt the ground change beneath his feet. Just as he realized that he had probably stepped on a section of rotting wooden floorboards, his whole body abruptly fell through.
With an enormous crash, Fang Mu and the boards he had been standing on dropped heavily to the bottom floor of the bunker. He landed abruptly. He'd fallen hard, and for several seconds his chest hurt so much he couldn't breathe. After writhing in pain on the cement floor for some time, he finally forced himself to breathe out, and then a moment later he began to cough violently.
With difficulty he managed to stop coughing. He sat up, still gasping for air. The fall had knocked his glasses off and dust was in his eyes. Fiercely rubbing his eyes with one hand, he grasped about blindly with the other for his glasses. All wasn't lost; he quickly grabbed hold of his dagger.
Holding it, he felt a little more at ease. Soon he found his lighter as well.
Flicking on the lighter, Fang Mu shined it overhead. Approximately nine feet above him was a large rectangular hole, from which descended a metal ladder.
It had once been used for people to travel from floor to floor. Originally, there had likely been a removable metal lid, which had disappeared by the time the bunker was discovered by the CCP. Fearing that someone might accidentally fall through, several boards had been placed over the opening. Over time, the damp atmosphere had rotted the boards, making them weak.
Fang Mu stretched his arms and legs, deciding he had not been badly hurt. He looked around.
He was in the water dungeon. He found he was standing atop a cement platform before an enormous cement pool at least six feet deep. The pool was completely empty except for a number of iron rings that Fang Mu could faintly make out attached to the pool walls. He knew they had probably been used to shackle prisoners back when the place was still in operation.
He could see another pool farther ahead. He walked slowly toward it along the platform, guided by the faint light of the flame. Gradually the outline of the second pool began to sharpen.