Cruel Heart

I had reached the second corner. If I turned around and continued forward, would the rope still be taut? At this thought, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. My right hand, gripping the rope, was already slick with sweat, making it slippery and uncomfortable. I turned the corner; the rope hugged the stone wall as it rounded the bend, and I could hear the “sussurus” sound it made rubbing against the wall. Almost instinctively, I quickened my pace. Liang Yingwu, at the other end, took a few seconds to adjust to my change in speed, but I was sure he must have smiled because I was about to get out. The light at the end of the third tunnel was now visible! The “tight-rope walking” method was indeed invincible. Perhaps the excitement of being about to escape made me too thrilled; it wasn’t until I was nearly out that I realized the path under my feet was still flat. Maybe this wasn’t the way out, but at least it was progress, far better than being stuck in that cave of bones. Twenty steps, fifteen, ten, nine, eight, seven… I rushed forward, almost running, completely disregarding the caution one should have in an entirely new and unfamiliar environment. Normally, I wouldn’t be so reckless, but the claustrophobic hours in the Bone Cave had already stripped me of my usual calm. Could things get any worse? I finally understood what it felt like to fall from the clouds to the ground. Just four or five steps from the exit, I stopped abruptly as if struck by lightning; I could faintly see what lay ahead, something I had never anticipated. My back felt like dozens of centipedes were crawling over it, sending shivers down my spine. Instinctively, I tugged hard on the rope, which had been taut since I entered the cave, but standing not far ahead was not Liang Yingwu and his team. “Heavens!” I heard Liang Yingwu gasp. These last few steps were the hardest I had ever taken; with each step, through the flashlight beam held by Lu Yun beside Liang Yingwu, I could clearly see Liang Yingwu, his face expressionless, matching my steps and slowly releasing the rope in his hand. As we reached the tunnel’s mouth, everyone was gripped by an indescribable eeriness; some gaped, others bit their lips, unable to utter a sound. I turned my head slowly, the vertebrae in my neck creaking. Yes, under the flashlight’s beam, two ropes, one gripped by Liang Yingwu, the other by me, stretched taut against the tunnel walls, leading straight into the endless darkness. The rope remained taut, so I hadn’t turned back, yet here I was. And the rope was still taut, in a way that defied explanation. What was going on? At this moment, the most basic laws of physics were completely overturned, and I felt utterly powerless. “What do we do?” Even He Yunkai, the bravest among us, seemed as helpless as a child. “Go in, let’s take a look,” Liang Yingwu said, his voice dry. The students were all too scared to volunteer to go back into the tunnel with me and Liang Yingwu. I, too, had the urge to flee, but the last shred of reason kept me from letting Liang Yingwu face this terror alone. We moved forward slowly, pulling the rope hand over hand. Liang Yingwu’s left hand, holding the flashlight, couldn’t keep it steady as both hands were needed to grip the rope, causing the light to sway. I focused my attention; what would we see next, what would happen? This time was bound to be different, even though I hadn’t left the tunnel; with the rope inexplicably looping back while remaining taut, this silent tunnel could no longer keep its secrets. Remember, the rope was only about 300 meters long, and the tunnel was over 200 meters; the point where the rope looped back must be somewhere in the second section. Of course, this assumption was based on common sense; perhaps the rope hadn’t looped back at all, maybe in the space where the rope was, it was indeed a straight line. As expected, we found nothing in the first section; the ropes followed the wall around the bend. Another anomaly appeared; the rope I was pulling hugged the inner side of the wall correctly, but the one Liang Yingwu was holding seemed pinned by an invisible nail, moving forward along the outer side. I was too preoccupied to consider what force could press the rope against the wall like a giant hand. Just past the second bend, in the dim light of the flashlight, I saw the end of the rope. From the second bend, the rope’s behavior changed; it no longer hugged the walls but began to converge towards the center. Describing the situation at the rope’s end was difficult. If I had to say, it was like two people each holding one end of a rope tied around a stake, running in opposite directions, only to be stopped when they reach the midpoint due to the rope’s tension. Liang Yingwu and I were like those two runners, except that, straining my eyes in the flashlight’s beam, I couldn’t see the stake that should have been there, holding the rope back. In other words, there was an invisible stake or an invisible hand, tightly holding the rope. What lay before us was a rope hanging in mid-air, bent at an acute angle, its sharp tip about a meter off the ground, unmoving despite my pulling. Liang Yingwu glanced at me; beads of sweat were already forming on the tip of his nose. “Who, who’s there?” His hoarse voice echoed in the tunnel as we both stood, panting, on high alert. The force that kept the rope suspended was just ahead, hidden in the walls or even in the air. “Drip,” a bead of sweat fell from my nose to the ground. No answer came, and the rope in mid-air showed no sign of slackening.
I took a step forward, then another. At this point, if there were any danger, I believed turning back and running away would only lead to a quicker death. When Liang Yingwu and I were just five steps away from our target, the force that had been gripping the rope vanished without warning, and the rope fell to the ground. Caught off guard, we both stumbled forward a few steps, nearly falling. I steadied myself against the stone wall, wanting to move forward but then halted abruptly. Liang Yingwu, in sync with my thoughts, picked up the rope and threw it forward again. He did this several times, and each time the rope came back easily, as if the force had had its fun and left us there, disappearing mysteriously. With newfound courage, Liang Yingwu and I approached where the rope had dropped, walking back and forth, shining our flashlights meticulously around, but found nothing. According to my theory, this should be the key point, but neither when I watched Liang Yingwu linger there, nor when he observed my actions, was there any sign of being transported or “reflected.” Despite the new situation, it offered no help to our predicament; instead, it made the event more enigmatic. Liang Yingwu and I had no choice but to move forward, around the bend, and soon we were back in the Cave of Bones.