My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 26

Fang Lin was transferred to the city hospital, located in the urban area fifty kilometers from the town. Lin Jiqiu and Cheng Ran went to visit her the next morning. As A Zuo drove along the coastal highway, the waves on the sea were larger than the day before, and white spray was blown up by the wind, like a thin mist floating in the air.

The city hospital wasn’t large, just a six-story white building with several taxis and private cars parked in front. A-Zuo parked the car, and Lin Jiqiu and Cheng Ran got out. Sun Yuan waited at the entrance of the outpatient hall, holding a file folder, looking better than yesterday.

“Fang Lin is on the third floor of the inpatient ward. Her parents arrived last night and are with her now.” Sun Yuan led them into the lobby, through the corridor, and into the elevator. “Her physical recovery is going well. The doctor said she can be discharged after two more days of observation. But psychologically… she might need some time.”

“Is she willing to talk to us?” Lin Jiqiu asked.

“I asked her. She said it was okay. She wanted to thank you.”

The third-floor corridor was quiet, with the occasional nurse pushing a trolley past, the wheels making a soft sound on the floor. Sun Yuan led them to a ward at the end of the corridor, knocked on the door, and then pushed it open to go inside.

Fang Lin lay half-reclined on the bed, propped up with pillows. Her complexion was better than when she had been seen on the ship the day before; her lips were still a little pale, but her eyes were brighter. Beside her sat a couple in their fifties—her parents. Seeing Lin Jiqiu and Cheng Ran enter, Fang Lin’s mother stood up, her eyes reddening. “You’re…the people who saved my daughter?”

“It’s us.” Lin Jiqiu walked to the bedside, with Cheng Ran following behind.

Fang Lin’s mother held her hand, thanking her several times, her voice choked with emotion. Fang Lin’s father stood to the side, saying little, only nodding, his gaze shifting between Cheng Ran and Lin Jiqiu.

“Dad, Mom, please go out for a moment.” Fang Lin’s voice was still a little hoarse, but much clearer than yesterday. Her parents hesitated for a moment, then left the ward. Sun Yuan followed them out and closed the door.

The room fell silent. Fang Lin looked at Lin Jiqiu and Cheng Ran, her gaze lingering on Lin Jiqiu’s face for a few seconds before shifting away.

“You’re the one who pulled me up from underwater that day,” she said, not as a question.

“yes.”

“You are not an ordinary person.”

“no.”

Fang Lin was silent for a few seconds. “That room…you went in too?”

“I’ve been inside. There’s a glass panel inside—an observation window. You can see in from the outside, but you can’t see out from the inside.”

Fang Lin’s hands clenched tighter under the blanket. “I know,” she said, her voice lowering, “When I’m inside, I always feel like someone is watching me. It’s not a hallucination. It’s just… that feeling. You know someone is watching you from where you can’t see them.”

Are you sure?

“No. But…” Fang Lin hesitated for a moment, “On the seventh day of being locked up, I heard noises from next door.”

Lin Jiqiu leaned forward slightly. “What was that sound?”

“A knocking sound. Very light, rhythmic. Thump, thump-thump, thump. Like someone knocking on the wall.”

“Which direction did it come from?”

Fang Lin pointed to the right side of the room. “From the observation window. That’s behind the glass.”

Did you respond?

“They responded. I knocked too. Three times. Then it was quiet for a moment. Then I knocked again—this time it was thump, thump, thump-thump. A different rhythm.”

“What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a test. Maybe…” Fang Lin lowered her head, “maybe there’s another person locked up next door.”

The room was silent for a few seconds. Cheng Ran spoke up: “Behind that glass door, there’s a door. It’s locked. We can’t open it.”

“What if we could open it from the other side?” Fang Lin looked up. “If they have a door on their side that leads into the observation room, they could unlock it from the inside.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at her. “While you were inside, did you ever think about how to get out?”

“I’ve thought about it. I tried to break that glass, but I couldn’t. I touched that wall, and there were no gaps. Only that door—I found the door, but it was locked, and I couldn’t open it from my side.”

Lin Jiqiu and Cheng Ran exchanged a glance.

“Fang Lin, when you were in that room, did you notice anything else? For example, changes in temperature, changes in the direction of water flow, or sounds—any sounds other than knocking.”

Fang Lin thought for a moment. “On the third day, the water temperature rose for a while. It wasn’t very obvious, but I could feel it. It rose by about two or three degrees, lasted for more than ten minutes, and then dropped back down.”

“There might be someone moving around in the observation room,” Cheng Ran said. “The door opened, and the water flow brought in heat.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No,” Fang Lin shook her head. “It’s just darkness. It’s always dark. There’s no light. I can only survive on the water seeping from the walls.”

Lin Jiqiu was silent for a few seconds. “Thank you.”

Fang Lin looked at her. “Are you still going down?”

“Yes.”

Fang Lin’s hands clenched tightly under the blanket. “If there really are people next door… please save them.”

Lin Jiqiu nodded, turned and walked towards the door. Cheng Ran followed behind.

“Wait a minute.” Fang Lin’s voice came from behind.

Lin Jiqiu stopped and turned around.

“May I have your name?”

“Lin Jiqiu”.

Fang Lin read the name aloud and nodded. “Lin Jiqiu. I’ve got it.”

As Lin Jiqiu stepped out of the ward, Fang Lin’s parents greeted her in the corridor, offering a few more words of thanks. Sun Yuan stood beside her, still holding the same file folder. Lin Jiqiu took the folder and opened it; inside were photocopies of Fang Lin’s notes—records she had written before that dive, about the cave and the hot spring vents.

“She mentioned that glowing thing before,” Sun Yuan said, “diving just before she went missing. She wrote a sentence: ‘The light is not bioluminescence, it is cold light, coming from the wall.’”

Lin Jiqiu put away her notebook. “Is there anything unusual about Wang Jianguo?”

Sun Yuan was taken aback. “The director? I don’t know. He hasn’t come to the research institute these past few days.”

Cheng Ran opened his tablet and pulled up the message sent by A Zuo. “Wang Jianguo’s bank account had a large transfer from overseas last year. The source of the transfer is in the same pool as ‘Mirror Technology’s’ account.”

Sun Yuan’s face paled. “You mean… the director…”

“Uncertain. But very likely.”

Lin Jiqiu glanced at Cheng Ran. “Let’s go back first. Prepare for the next dive.”

It was already afternoon when they returned to the town. The sea was rougher, and the innkeeper said there might be a storm that night. Lin Jiqiu stood by the window, looking at the leaden-gray clouds piling up on the distant sea. Cheng Ran walked in, carrying two cups of coffee, and handed one to her.

“Ah Zuo went to prepare the equipment: a waterproof flashlight, spare batteries, and lock picking tools.” He placed the coffee on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“What do you think is next door?” Lin Jiqiu asked.

“It could be a similar room. It could also be a control room.”

“If there were people next door—why didn’t they save Fang Lin?”

“Maybe they can’t. Maybe they’re locked up too, only able to see Fang Lin through the observation window, but unable to get out.”

Lin Jiqiu was silent for a few seconds. “What did that knocking sound mean?”

“It could be a cry for help. Or it could be… they want Fang Lin to know there are people next door.”

She carried her coffee to the window and looked at the increasingly dark sky outside. “Go out tomorrow. There’s a storm tonight; we can’t go out to sea.”

“Your ‘yin’ will record underwater data. If the storm has affected anything, I can tell from the vibrations.”

Lin Jiqiu looked down at the round ball on her wrist. It sat quietly on the wristband, without vibrating. “What about your end? Is there anything unusual about ‘Yang’?”

“No. It’s been vibrating continuously. At a normal frequency.”

What is the normal frequency?

Cheng Ran thought for a moment. “The frequency of your heartbeat.”

Lin Jiqiu didn’t speak. She took a sip of her coffee; it was bitter, a dark roast, with low acidity. She was already used to it.

The storm arrived at dusk. The wind swept in from the sea, rattling the windows. The rain didn’t fall vertically; it was swept horizontally by the wind, making a pattering sound as it hit the glass. The hotel lights flickered a few times, then came back on.

Lin Jiqiu sat on the bed, hugging a pillow. Cheng Ran was in her room, sitting on a chair by the window, a tablet on her lap. A Zuo was in his own room, perhaps resting, or perhaps texting A You.

“Can’t you sleep?” Cheng Ran asked without looking up.

“The rain is too heavy.”

“Your heart rate is normal.”

“Could you please stop monitoring me all the time?”

“I can’t control it.”

Lin Jiqiu leaned against the headboard, looking at Cheng Ran’s profile. The lightning outside the window cast flickering light and shadow on his silhouette. His eyes were on the tablet, his brows slightly furrowed, as if he were deep in thought.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

Why do you know so much about rusty bones?

Cheng Ran’s finger paused on the tablet. “Because I’ve been there.”

Lin Jiqiu did not press the matter further.

“It wasn’t that I wanted to go. I had to.” His voice was low, almost drowned out by the rain. “After I escaped from the Stargazers, I had nowhere to go. Rustbones took me in—no, not took me in. They used me. They needed my weapons-making skills. I made things for them for two years.”

“And then what?”

“Later I discovered that they used the weapons I made to hurt people they shouldn’t have.” Cheng Ran’s fingers tightened slightly. “A village. An ordinary fishing village. Because they suspected that a traitor from the Stargazers was hiding there.”

Then you left.

“I’ve left. They chased me for six months.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at him. A flash of lightning outside the window illuminated his face for a moment. His expression was calm, as if he were telling someone else’s story.

Why are you telling me all this?

“Because you’re going underwater tomorrow. Behind that door underwater, there might be something to do with the Rust Bones. You need to know what kind of people they are.”

Lin Jiqiu was silent for a few seconds. “What kind of person?”

“A person without principles.”

The rain was still falling. The wind was still blowing. The waves on the sea outside the window must be quite high. Lin Jiqiu put her pillow aside and lay down.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

“Tomorrow, no matter what’s behind that door, you’ll be waiting for me on the ship?”

“Um.”

“good.”

She closed her eyes. The ball on her wrist vibrated slightly, in sync with Cheng Ran’s rhythm. The rain was heavy, but her consciousness was slowly sinking.

The storm had stopped the next morning. The sea still held the remnants of the previous night’s storm, with waves higher than usual, but the sky had cleared, and sunlight shimmered on the water. Sun Yuan said the waves would be smaller in the afternoon and suggested going out to sea then.

Lin Jiqiu made final preparations in the room. She checked her waterproof backpack—flashlight, folding knife, the USB drive Cheng Ran had given her, lock picking tools, and the matching device Sun Yuan had made. She took “Yin” off the wristband and held it in her hand.

“I might run into someone today,” she said softly.

The sphere vibrated.

Are you responding to me?

It trembled again.

She fastened it back onto the wristband and tightened it. Then she took out a small locator from her backpack—the kind Cheng Ran had given her, about the size of a button—and attached it to her underwear. That way, even if she lost contact, Cheng Ran could find her location.

Go downstairs. Cheng Ran is waiting in the lobby, while A Zuo is standing at the door.

“Sun Yuan said we’ll set sail at 2 PM. The waves will be smaller then.”

“Okay.” Lin Jiqiu walked to the window and looked at the sea. The white buoy in the distance was still bobbing up and down in the waves.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

“If there are people behind that door, I will bring them out.”

“I know.”

“If I can’t bring it out—”

“You will bring it out.”

Lin Jiqiu turned to look at him. Cheng Ran’s expression was calm, but his fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the tablet—a habit he had when nervous.

She didn’t expose him.