I approached to observe, discovering some blood-stained bandages adhered to the wall, with a dark blanket spread on the floor. Nearby, a few thermos flasks lay overturned, and amidst them were leftovers of food packaging. The wall bore miscellaneous doodles, clearly marking the traces of someone's existence, evident after their departure.
Pondering as I surveyed, I wondered who had inhabited this place and why they hadn't evacuated. Could it be related to that eerie puppet-like figure? At the thought of that ghostly entity, a shiver ran down my spine. Unwilling to delay further, I illuminated my path with the flashlight on my phone, eager to leave swiftly.
Exiting the archive room, I entered a dim corridor with vintage floor tiles and walls painted in a light green hue. Glass square lamps hung from above, and the arrangement filled me with delight. It seemed I had emerged from platform 7.
Without pausing, I briskly walked down the corridor, reaching another room at the end, marked as "Distribution Room" above the lintel. Hesitating for a moment, I pushed the door open.
This place seemed abandoned for a long time, covered in thick dust. Chaotic wires dangled from the ceiling, and rows of distribution boxes lined the floor. On the wall, I noticed a hook made of wooden strips with keys hanging from it. Each key was labeled with faded pen markings, likely indicating their use in managing the distribution boxes.
Lacking interest in further exploration, I decided to leave but unexpectedly found a familiar key among them. Comparing it to the one in my pocket, I confirmed they were identical. Excitement surged as I removed the key labeled "Sunlight Station" and the other side, which I hadn't replicated, marked as "Cargo-513."
I triumphantly clapped my hands; this perilous journey had finally yielded results. Considering the driver's mention of "Passenger and Cargo Transportation," I deduced that "Cargo" must correspond to "Passenger." Analyzing it statistically, the first character represented the category, and the following characters must denote specific locations.
Not wanting to waste time, I continued my journey. The corridor led to a spiral staircase with creaky wooden boards. Descending the stairs, I entered a hall, relieved by the scattered moonlight pouring in through the windows.
Scanning the hall, my eyes immediately caught a row of metal cabinets against the wall. Without a doubt, this was the place. Glancing around, I spotted the number "513."
This was a storage cabinet, somewhat resembling those I remembered from public baths in my childhood. Some were open, lacking locks. Retrieving the key, I began trying them one by one. Before reaching five or six, the key slid in effortlessly, and as I turned it, the lock inside clicked.
Excitement surged as I realized it wasn't a key to a specific room but a communal storage cabinet. I glanced at the hall, then carefully opened the cabinet. Despite some resistance, I managed to pull it open.
Inside was a glossy leather suitcase, surprisingly lightweight and securely locked. Shaking it, I heard something shifting inside. The exterior bore the faded insignia of "Xing Sheng Long," and with copper clasps on either side and a keyhole in the center. Attempting to pry it open, the central latch unexpectedly released with a "clack." Astonished and pleased, I discovered the suitcase was never locked.
I opened the clasps, revealing a blue-lined interior with only two items. Observing the blood-stained tag, my heart raced. This tag was undeniably familiar; never did I imagine finding a bronze tag inside the suitcase!
The other item was a sharp-edged stone, seemingly part of some object. Lacking immediate insights, I decided not to dwell on it, securing both items.
With the desired objects in hand, I wasted no time and proceeded to exit. The corridor led to a spiral staircase, with the old wooden boards making a distinct "creak" with each step. As I descended, I entered another hall, and the sight of light coming through the windows reassured me.
I briefly surveyed the hall, noticing a familiar silhouette near the wall. Without hesitation, I climbed onto a shelf, attempting to remove a loose piece to open a window nearby. The rusty nails emitted harsh sounds as I pried, echoing in the spacious hall.
Suddenly, I halted, glancing towards the direction of the spiral staircase. Faint and erratic breaths reached my ears. An ominous feeling crept in; perhaps it was the puppet-like figure. In that moment of hesitation, I decided to take a risk. Releasing my hold on the makeshift lever, I focused on unlocking the window, ignoring the approaching footsteps.
The wooden plank loosened, and as my hands worked to release it, the steps from the spiral staircase intensified. The plank finally broke, and without looking back, I rolled out. The broken end grazed my left side, but I paid it little attention.
The moon was sparse, and the night had fallen. Ahead was a storage area, with wooden poles supporting large headlights. I felt a breath of fresh air, a sensation of rebirth.
From this vantage point, a pedestrian bridge was visible not far away, and the architecture seemed vaguely familiar. It should be the backside of the bus station, likely behind the slope where we disembarked. Eager to find an exit, I explored the surroundings. The walls were fenced with iron wire, and climbing was impossible.
After a while, I finally spotted a suitable location—overgrown with vegetation, the iron wire had been deformed. I climbed, reaching the top, where I found a toppled old tree perfectly positioned to bridge the gap.
I took a deep breath, ready to descend when, on a whim, I glanced back. Behind the broken window, it seemed there was someone. In the moonlight, only a blurry silhouette was visible. My heart raced, but regardless of what it was, it no longer concerned me.
Descending the tree, I found myself amidst tall grass. Recognizing camel thorns, I traversed the high grassland and circled around the station, eventually climbing up a slope from the side.
Just as I reached the top, the car lights suddenly illuminated, startling me. The driver, with a slightly resentful expression, leaned out of the car, "Young man," he pointed to his watch, "if you hadn't come out in another twenty minutes, I would have given up today."
I got into the back seat, checked my pockets, and realized I had lost my cigarettes during the escape. I asked the driver for one, and as he handed me the last one from the passenger seat, he complained, "Only one left. After I finish this, I'm leaving."
I lit the cigarette, took a deep drag, and observed the moonlight outside the window. Exhaustion overcame me. If possible, I wished to share the experiences of the past two days with him. Exhaling a puff of smoke, I apologized, "Sorry, old man. Add two hundred when we reach the destination."
He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, surprised, "What happened to you?"
"Don't mention it," I pretended to look regretful. "I originally wanted to explore inside, but it was too vast. I got lost, and there was a group of wild cats in a workshop. If I hadn't found
the main gate at last, I would have spent the night there."
"Heh, no wonder," the driver, seeing my disheveled state, didn't suspect anything. After a while, he asked with a somewhat unnatural expression, "Did you... see anything inside?"
I hesitated for a moment, realizing he referred to the rumored "accident." I reclined, making myself more comfortable, and replied, "There was nothing chaotic. I didn't see anything."
The driver, seeing my lack of interest in conversation, didn't press further. Gazing at the hazy night outside the window, I no longer felt the excitement and anticipation from when I arrived. With the smooth movement of the car and the face of that person in the window of the train, I drifted into a deep sleep.
I slept soundly, and by the time we reached Hami, it was already late at night. The driver, looking weary, accepted the extra two hundred, and I turned to the hotel I had booked in advance.
The hotel reception, still groggy, was awakened by my call. It was a young girl. She reluctantly assigned me a room, and with my bag on my back, I ascended to the upper floor. Upon returning to the room, I took a shower, felt a bit hungry, and unwilling to order takeout in the middle of the night, I opted for instant noodles. After charging my phone, I lay on the bed, ready to rest.
Due to the extended sleep on the train, this rest was not as sound. Even in the middle of the night, I felt there were faint murmurs outside the door, as if someone was whispering. When I opened the door and looked through the peephole, there was nothing. After a few attempts, the sky was already bright when I finally fell asleep.
In the morning, when checking out, I asked the front desk if anything unusual happened last night. The girl looked at me with a puzzled expression, questioning what had happened. Scratching my head, I said I might have misheard something.
Leaving the hotel, I had a casual meal at a nearby restaurant, then took a taxi to the airport. There was no direct flight back, so I had to transfer in Xi'an. By the time I reached Daxing Airport, it was already evening.
Standing in the airport hall, amidst the bustling crowd, although it had only been two short days, I felt like I had been isolated from the world for a long time. Discarding the cigarette butt, I took a deep breath. Damn it, it's good to be alive.