My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 69

The next morning, before dawn, Lin Jiqiu got up. He was dressed as a man, in dark casual clothes and sneakers. He looked at his face in the mirror—he was thinner, his cheekbones more prominent, and there was a faint bluish tinge under his eyes. He rubbed his face, as if trying to knead the weariness into his skin. A-Zuo had already checked the car; the gas tank was full, the tire pressure was normal, and there were several cases of water and food in the trunk. A-You stood at the door, holding a thermal bag filled with sandwiches and cut fruit. He glanced at Lin Jiqiu, then at the cases in the trunk, and said nothing.

“Boss, eat this on the way. Call me if you need more and I’ll send you some.”

Lin Jiqiu took the insulated bag and placed it on the back seat. “Ayou, watch the house.”

Yes, it will.

Ayou stood at the door, watching the car drive out of the street, turn the corner, and disappear before turning back. Chengran sat in the passenger seat, a tablet resting on his lap, the screen displaying navigation routes to that sea area. The navigation destination wasn’t far from the town they’d stopped at last time, but it was a few kilometers off. It wasn’t the pier they’d docked at last time, but another, smaller fishing port.

A-Zuo drove onto the highway. The morning light shone from the east, bathing the road in a pale gold hue. The scenery outside the car window gradually changed from buildings to fields, and from fields to hills. Lin Jiqiu sat in the back seat with her eyes closed; she wasn’t asleep, just sitting there. Cheng Ran was looking at his tablet, his fingers occasionally swiping, as if checking some data. A-Zuo focused on driving, remaining silent.

After driving for more than four hours, we exited the highway and turned onto a road along the coastline. The road was much narrower, and the trees on both sides were taller than before, their branches bending low so that the car occasionally brushed against the side window as we passed. The sea appeared and disappeared between the branches, a grayish-blue color, much like when I last came.

The fishing port was small, with a few fishing boats and one or two yachts moored there. The wooden planks on the pier were old and creaked underfoot. An old man in rubber boots was tidying up fishing nets; he glanced at them, then lowered his head and continued working. Cheng Ran got out of the car, walked to the edge of the pier, took a few photos of the sea with his phone, and then walked back.

“That area is about three nautical miles from here. The location of the underwater facilities hasn’t changed, but I don’t know what’s inside.” He glanced in the direction of the fishing port. “There are boat rental places by the dock; I’ll go ask.”

Lin Jiqiu got out of the car as well. Standing at the edge of the pier, the sea breeze brushed against his face, carrying a faint salty smell. The water was a greyish-blue, stretching all the way to the horizon where it met the sky. The underwater facilities were below that, in the unseen depths. Last time he went down, the door was open, and the passage was clear. Now? He withdrew his gaze, waiting for Cheng Ran to return.

A few minutes later, Cheng Ran returned with a middle-aged man wearing a life jacket. The man was tall and thin, with dark skin, the result of years of working at sea. He looked Lin Jiqiu and Cheng Ran over and asked, “Are you going out to sea?”

“Go to the vicinity of that buoy.” Cheng Ran pointed to a faintly visible white dot on the sea surface.

“That buoy? There’s nothing there, just an ordinary stretch of sea.”

“We do hydrological surveys. We need to collect samples in that area.”

The man didn’t ask any more questions and nodded. “Okay. Three hundred. I’ll pay when I get back, no matter how long it takes.”

The boat wasn’t large, about the same size as the one Sun Yuan had sailed last time. The deck was somewhat old, and the engine emitted a deep rumble when it started. Lin Jiqiu stood on the gunwale, watching the dock recede into the distance, the trees and rooftops on the shore gradually shrinking until they became a blurry line. The wind was light, and the waves were low, the boat gently rising and falling with the surging waves.

“We’ve arrived.” Cheng Ran looked at the location on the tablet.

There was nothing on the sea except for a white buoy. Just like last time, the buoy floated alone on the water. But this time, there were no other boats around, no trawlers, no sound. It was eerily quiet. The old man at the fishing port said that it was “ordinary sea” over there, but forty meters below the surface, there was a metal door. Lin Jiqiu took off his coat, revealing a waterproof suit underneath.

“Why don’t you go down and take a look?”

“Let’s check if the door is still there.”

“careful.”

The water was colder than last time. The late autumn seawater already carried a chill, feeling like damp ice against his skin. He floated for a few seconds, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light, then dived down. Following the buoy’s rope, he descended inch by inch, the water pressure gradually increasing, his eardrums beginning to throb. He didn’t deform—this time he was just diving to look, not needing to stay underwater for long. Fifteen meters, the light dimmed. Twenty meters, the seawater turned a deep green. Twenty-five meters, he could see the opening. He continued down, and at about thirty meters, the opening came into view.

The cave walls remained the same, covered in seaweed and barnacles, but one spot was noticeably different. Below the cave entrance, an area had been struck by something; the rocks were broken into pieces, revealing grayish-white fractures with fresh edges. It wasn’t naturally formed; it was man-made. Explosives or something—someone had been here and blasted open part of the cave entrance. They sealed the door. Lin Jiqiu didn’t go in but floated at the edge of the entrance, observing for a while. The cave was dark inside; the beam of his flashlight shone in but didn’t reach the end, only pitch blackness. After confirming there were no other abnormalities, he released his grip and began to rise. The light grew brighter, and as he broke the surface, Cheng Ran was already reaching out his hand at the side of the boat. He grabbed Cheng Ran’s hand and climbed onto the deck.

“The entrance to the cave was sealed off. They blasted the cave walls and blocked the entrance with rubble. It can’t be opened without heavy equipment.” He sat on the deck, wringing out his soaked clothes. “But the marks aren’t fresh; it must have been there for a while. They sealed the entrance off after we left.”

Cheng Ran looked at him. “That underwater facility is no longer useful.”

“At least it can’t be entered from underwater.”

“What about by land? Is the land entrance that Cheng Ran found last time still accessible?”

Lin Jiqiu thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. But we’ll know when we get there.”

Back on shore, the dock was as quiet as ever. The old man was still tidying up the fishing nets, as if he hadn’t moved them at all. Cheng Ran contacted Sun Yuan and asked for the coordinates of the land entrance he had previously recorded. They drove north from the fishing port for about twenty minutes. The road was unpaved, and the gravel crunched under the tires. The car stopped in a field, and in the distance, they could see a cliff face. The cliff was made of gray limestone, eroded by the sea wind with countless grooves. The wild grass was tall, almost knee-high. They walked through the grass to the cliff face.

“The entrance to the quarry last time is now sealed off; I checked. But they probably didn’t seal off all the entrances to this area.” Cheng Ran stopped in front of the cliff and pointed to a nearly invisible crevice, mostly hidden by weeds and vines. “This crevice—it’s not marked on the map—is probably naturally formed.”

Lin Jiqiu crouched down and parted the vines. The crevice was about half a meter wide, and it was pitch black inside, making it impossible to see its depth. He squeezed in sideways, with Cheng Ran following behind. The crevice was very narrow, and their shoulders were almost touching the rocks on either side. After walking about ten meters, the space suddenly opened up—a natural cave, quite large, like a hollowed-out room. Light leaked down from the cracks in the rocks overhead, forming several thin beams of light that shone on the grayish-white ground.

On one side of the cave, there was a door. An iron door—exactly the same metal door they had seen underwater, but taller, wider, and heavier. Lin Jiqiu walked to the door and reached out to touch its surface. It was cold, and the surface had some scratches; it wasn’t new, it was old, as if it had been repeatedly scratched by something.

“This door may lead to the other side of the underwater facility.” Cheng Ran shone his flashlight on the door seam. “The seam is sealed with a water pressure sealing strip, and it’s the same standard as the seabed facility.”

Lin Jiqiu searched around but couldn’t find a doorknob, only a palm-sized sensor area on the side. “Just like the previous door, it requires a key card.”

Cheng Ran took a device out of his backpack—smaller and more sophisticated than the one he used last time. “I’ll try it.” He placed the device on the sensor area, and a string of code lit up on the screen. “The access control system is independent and not connected to the internet. To crack it, physical contact is needed, but no external network is required. Give me some time.”

Lin Jiqiu stood to one side, watching the beams of light filtering through the cave ceiling, moving slowly through the air. A sea breeze, carrying a salty, fishy smell, blew in through the cracks. After about thirty minutes, Cheng Ran looked up. “All done.”

The iron gate gave a dull thud, as if something had loosened. It didn’t spring open, but it was no longer locked. Lin Jiqiu wedged his fingers into the crack and pulled hard. The crack widened, revealing the space behind it—a passage, longer and wider than the one he’d seen underwater. Every few meters along the walls of the passage, there was a recess containing a round lamp holder. The lights weren’t on, but it was clear they had been there. A thin layer of dust covered the passage floor, and footprints were clearly visible—more than one pair, varying in size, some pointing inwards, others outwards. Someone had been here, recently.

Lin Jiqiu entered the passage. Cheng Ran followed behind, the beam of his flashlight flickering in the darkness, casting moving shadows on the walls. After walking about twenty meters, the passage forked into two. One went left, the other right. He stopped, squatted down, and examined the footprints. All the footprints led to the right; there were almost no traces on the left.

“To the right.” Lin Jiqiu stood up and walked to the right. After walking for a few minutes, at the end of the passage was a half-open door. The door was a heavy, sliding explosion-proof door, the tracks of which were somewhat stiff from long-term disuse. Lin Jiqiu squeezed in sideways; the space inside was unexpectedly spacious, like a control room. The walls were all metal panels, some with buttons and indicator lights embedded in them, most of which were off, with only one or two still glowing a faint red light. In the center was a long table, with several documents scattered on its surface.

Lin Jiqiu walked to the table, picked up a document filled with incomprehensible symbols and numbers, like some kind of encrypted record—not text, but data. In the corner was a monitor; the screen was black, but the power light was still on. Cheng Ran walked over, pressed the power button, and the screen lit up, displaying an interface. The interface showed several folders, their names consisting of combinations of numbers and letters.

“This was left behind by the Heavenly Palace Division. They didn’t destroy all the data when they left.” Cheng Ran’s voice sounded very soft in the empty control room.

Lin Jiqiu picked up the documents. “They left in such a hurry that they left most of them behind.”

“Take this data back and analyze it slowly.” Cheng Ran pulled out the memory and put it in his pocket. “This control room may only be part of their facility; there may be more elsewhere.”

Lin Jiqiu looked around and glanced at the darkness outside the door. “Let’s go back first. We’ll finish analyzing this place before deciding on the next step.”

The two walked through the passage, retreated back into the cave, and emerged from the crevice. The moment the sunlight hit his face, he instinctively squinted. A sea breeze blew, carrying the slightly salty warmth of the afternoon. They walked through the grass and returned to the car. A-Zuo started the engine, turned around, and drove back the way they had come. Lin Jiqiu looked out the window—the crooked tree grew farther and farther away, finally becoming a dot in the rearview mirror, and then disappeared. He looked away, leaned back in his seat, and the image of the control room filled his mind.

The door was sealed, but not completely shut. When Tengu Tsukasa left, he left behind many things. More than he took. He reached into his pocket, his hand touching the corner of a file; it was hard, and he could feel the sharpness of its edge even through the fabric. It wasn’t ancient sayings on bamboo slips, but something closer, more concrete. He gripped the stack of files tightly, as if holding a thread that hadn’t yet burned out, waiting for it to lead him somewhere.