I started running, covering seven tunnel segments in a row, before stopping, leaning against the wall, panting. I knew it wasn’t that there were no incidents; we had been caught in a situation from the moment we stepped into the tunnel. This situation might be an endless, inescapable dark tunnel. How could such a small mountain belly contain so many tunnels, looping endlessly? This must be the work of some mysterious force. I thought of Zhuge Liang’s Eight Trigrams Array, trapping people within; perhaps this was similar. I couldn’t remember how many bends I had turned or how many tunnels I had walked through. Two or three hours had passed, and Liang Yingwu and the others must be despairing.
Walking alone in an endless tunnel, hearing only my own footsteps and seeing only the increasingly dim light of my flashlight, I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out, not just physically but mentally, as despair gnawed at my nerves. I had never felt as desperate as I did now, not even when death was half a meter away.
My consciousness grew muddier with the sound of my own heavy breathing, and I bit my lip until it bled to keep my mind sharp with the pain. I glanced at my watch, it was 3:50 PM. When did I enter? At 10 AM or 11 AM? My legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead. I reached into my pocket for the last two pieces of compressed biscuits; my stomach was already numb with pain. These biscuits would help me walk a bit further. I didn’t stop to sit down and eat; instead, I ate while walking. I feared that if I sat down, I wouldn’t have the strength or courage to stand up again. My mind was barely able to think; the only thought was to keep moving forward, not to fall. Perhaps many would think this was nothing special, knowing that the army often conducts field exercises, marching day and night with tens of kilograms on their backs, far more than what I carried now. However, there’s a fundamental difference between their situation and mine: they knew where the endpoint was. Even if it meant walking for a day or two, many could endure it. But in this dark tunnel, with no idea of how long or how many turns I had to take, or even if the tunnel I was walking through truly existed, the mental strain was excruciating, far surpassing physical exhaustion. Not to mention I had been hungry for so long, my body was truly exhausted. My flashlight had run out of battery a long time ago. I walked forward by feeling the stone wall, needing to touch something to feel a bit more secure, to keep myself going without giving up. I had sweated profusely, but my hands and heart were as cold as ice. “Nado!” “Look, it’s really Nado!” I faintly heard shouts from ahead. Then a beam of light shone on my face, blinding my already blurry eyes. My brain took a few seconds to process that it was the light from a flashlight. The light quickly went out; it was the last backup flashlight. I heard what seemed like someone running towards me, and I relaxed, collapsing forward onto the ground, the dead flashlight rolling far away.
The Secret of the Bones
