Cruel Heart

It took me about ten seconds to confirm I had woken up from unconsciousness, as my pupils felt no light when my eyes were closed, creating a sense of unreality, which was particularly strong upon waking. I wasn’t injured; it was just that the highly tense nerves relaxed suddenly, unable to support my body which had reached its limit. I struggled to sit up, still in a state of shock. “You’re awake,” Liang Yingwu, sitting beside me, quickly supported me when he saw me move. “What time is it now?” I asked. Liang Yingwu glanced at his watch, the green glow flashing: “11:20 PM, you’ve been asleep for an hour and a half.” That meant I had been walking in that tunnel for over ten hours. If my subconscious hadn’t sensed the ongoing crisis, given my current physical state, I might not have woken up even after sleeping for twelve hours. Liang Yingwu handed me something, and by the dim green light, I saw it was three pieces of compressed biscuits. “This is…” I didn’t want Liang Yingwu to give up his food for me. “Eat it, everyone agreed, He YunKai and Liu Wenying also did.” Only then did I remember why I entered the tunnel: “When did they come out?” “About nine hours before you,” Liang Yingwu said solemnly, “No one has entered the tunnel after you.” I was stunned. “It’s that force; it won’t let us continue the experiment.” According to the original plan, we would have methodically tried out scientific methods one by one, potentially uncovering clues about the tunnel’s secret, but this force ended it in the most brutal way. Initially, the tunnel required just two turns to get back to the start, a brisk walk of just a few minutes. But He YunKai and the others had walked for over three hours, and I took more than three times as long to get out. If anyone dared to enter the tunnel again, they might not come out alive. The thought of dying here crossed my mind for the first time. I forcefully swallowed the third biscuit, my mind in disarray, forgetting to save any for later. After eating, I shook my hand to gather the crumbs and sucked them into my mouth, then clapped my hands. Suddenly, I noticed a faint green light on the back of my hand. My brain was still not sharp; I had seen this light when I received the biscuits, thinking it was from Liang Yingwu’s watch. Now, I realized it wasn’t the case at all, and I looked up towards the source of the light, startled. It was phosphorescent light. Not far away, in the center of the living area where we had cleared all the bones, there was now a pile of bones emitting a bright green phosphorescence. They were large bones – skulls, leg bones, and so forth, clearly picked out from the glowing bones in the cave with some effort. “You’ve noticed,” Liang Yingwu said. “How could this be…” “I didn’t let them use the last flashlight, but they couldn’t stand the darkness anymore.” Liang Yingwu sighed. I sat there in a daze for a while, then understood the unspoken implication of Liang Yingwu’s words. The tunnel could no longer be entered; even the exploratory experiments with little hope could not continue. These students would naturally despair, their psychology had changed, and while they could not bear the darkness, they were less afraid of the bones representing death, perhaps even developing a perverse attraction to them. I looked at the students; they sat there lifelessly, not making a sound. Liu Wenying was curled up next to Liang Yingwu, seemingly still not recovering from her fear despite having come out nine hours earlier. The once cheerful and beautiful girl bore no resemblance to her former self. “She needs to be close to me to calm down,” Liang Yingwu whispered to me. If it were another occasion, I would have made a loud jest, but now, I had no desire to respond. “Crunch.” “Who?” “What’s that?” Several voices called out at the same time. It sounded like something crunching, like chewing. A shiver ran down my spine; it made me think of the dead, chewing on the dead. “Damn! Zhu Zili, what are you doing?” He YunKai grabbed Zhu Zili by the collar and lifted him off the ground. “I, I didn’t…” Zhu Zili tried to free himself but couldn’t form a complete sentence. “What’s wrong?” Liang Yingwu stood up and walked towards them. I also tried to stand, but my legs buckled from the strain, and I sat back down. Zhao Gang, sitting on the other side of Zhu Zili, picked something up from the ground: “He was stealing food.” Zhao Gang said angrily. Realizing what had happened, the others started to clamor. “Put him down first, He YunKai,” Liang Yingwu commanded sharply. He YunKai snorted heavily and released his grip. Zhu Zili staggered back several steps until he fell outside the circle of life, landing on some stark white bones, coughing incessantly, apparently choked by the chocolate waffle he had just eaten. Zhao Gang gripped the large piece of chocolate waffle he had picked up from the ground, glaring fiercely, raising it higher and higher. He YunKai grabbed Zhao Gang’s hand: “What do you think you’re doing?” and snatched the waffle with his other hand. “You!” Zhao Gang’s anger flared, looking like he was about to lose it. Liang Yingwu strode over to them and demanded loudly, “Give it to me.” He YunKai did not respond. “Give it to me!” Liang Yingwu’s voice was stern. After a moment’s hesitation, He YunKai finally handed the waffle to Liang Yingwu. Liang Yingwu approached Zhu Zili, who was still coughing, and asked, “Where’s the rest?” “Gone, all gone,” Zhu Zili replied, his eyes reflecting a green glow. Liang Yingwu stared at him and said, “Maybe He YunKai should search you.” “No, no.” Zhu Zili reached into his crotch and pulled out another sealed chocolate waffle, who knows where he had stashed it. “Just this one, really, I was just too hungry.” “If I catch you hiding food again, I’ll split you open,” He YunKai threatened loudly. His words were met with a chorus of agreement, including curses from some girls. “Go die, then you won’t need to eat anymore,” Lu Yun’s curse sent a chill through me. I worried that if such incidents continued, He YunKai might actually resort to violence. Liang Yingwu weighed the waffle in his hand before tossing it back to Zhu Zili, then walked to the small pile of food and said, “Now, I will divide all the food equally among everyone. You can eat it all at once or save some for later, but remember, this is your last meal. Zhu Zili, what you ate will be deducted from your share.” I was relieved not to be assigned a large bag of chips; not only would it not satisfy, but its size made me feel insecure. I received ten compressed biscuits, while Liang Yingwu allocated himself an entire pack of soda crackers. I thought he was deliberately favoring himself and me, believing that preserving our strength was key to escaping this predicament, an optimal allocation of resources. He was never one for rigid absolute fairness. Many received attractive large or two large bags of puffed food, including Liu Wenying, who had been trying to stay close to Liang Yingwu. Few could discern what would actually help them survive longer. From the moment I regained consciousness, I had a vague sense of something, but I couldn’t grasp the essence. Until just now, when I realized Liang Yingwu had consciously left the best food for us, hoping to increase our chances of escaping, a flash of insight struck me. “It’s conscious, Liang Yingwu, it’s conscious,” I exclaimed. “Conscious, why…” Liang Yingwu started to question but then realized. Initially, we thought we had stumbled into some kind of formation, whether natural or man-made, that had existed in this cave for who knows how long, and we were just victims of our own curiosity. However, the mysterious force in the tunnel had clearly altered its behavior due to our explorations, preventing us from further experiments. This could no longer be explained by the natural reactions of a formation; it was almost certainly a conscious, intelligent response. A conscious force meant there was an unknown life form here we had never encountered… but why, why would it do this? Lying on the ground, the extreme fatigue was slowly dissipating, but my body was still much weaker than usual. The energy drained couldn’t be replenished by a few biscuits; a night’s rest might help a bit, but it was useless. My mind was racing with thoughts on how we might escape, making sleep impossible. The tunnel was now inaccessible, yet it was the only way out. If we abandoned it, could we dig our own way out? If this were a combat game, we’d be lined up for a headshot, game over. But this was reality, and we had to struggle to survive. I had thought of tying a rope around someone’s waist to explore and retreat if necessary, but this force seemed intent on stopping further experiments, potentially cutting the rope. Whether to discuss this plan with Liang Yingwu, I was still undecided. But completely giving up on the tunnel to find another way out was unthinkable. “Crack!” I quickly propped myself up to look; the phosphorescent light illuminating the pile of bones had collapsed. He YunKai stood nearby, and Zhu Zili, who had fallen into the pile, was struggling to get up. “He YunKai is stealing!” Zhu Zili shouted. “Who knows how much you’ve already eaten, probably more than two people’s share, why do you need more?” He YunKai grabbed Zhu Zili’s backpack strap, pulling with all his might, his face contorted in the green light, looking terrifying. Though Zhu Zili knew he couldn’t beat He YunKai, food was life, and he wouldn’t let go, not even bothering to stand up, clinging to his pack for dear life. “Let go, He YunKai,” Liang Yingwu shouted. He Yun Kai, however, did not follow Liang Ying Wu’s advice as he usually did; instead, he retorted, “I usually eat four bowls at a meal, and this kid only eats one. The food I get is almost the same as his, which is unfair. He has to share some with me.” Zhu Zi Li took advantage of He Yun Kai’s distraction while he was talking to Liang Ying Wu, flipped over, stood up, still holding his bag with his right hand, but his left hand grabbed a large thigh bone, looking as if he was ready to fight He Yun Kai. The thing that Liang Ying Wu and I had been worrying about finally happened. The students around finally reacted, and unlike last time, this time everyone advised He Yun Kai not to use force. He Yun Kai, with a stern face, did not give up his earlier intention; he pulled hard with his right hand, causing Zhu Zi Li to stagger forward, his left hand high with the white bone, about to fight He Yun Kai. Lu Yun shouted loudly, “He Yun Kai, if you rob others now, others will rob you in the future.” “Who dares?” He Yun Kai roared. Almost all the men’s tempers were ignited by this challenge. “Me.” Zhao Gang, Wang Fang Yuan, Lin Zhi Pu, and even Guo Yong Hua all shouted back at He Yun Kai. “Don’t go too far, He Yun Kai,” Zhu Zi Li gripped the white bone tightly, “otherwise, no one here would want to be around someone who might rob food at any moment.” He Yun Kai looked at the figures standing behind Zhu Zi Li, snorted heavily, let go of Zhu Zi Li’s backpack, and turned away. Liang Ying Wu and I exchanged a glance, both worried. I looked at the white bone in Zhu Zi Li’s hand, wondering if the events that took place here a hundred years ago also started like this… Even the highest education and the most enlightened society cannot erase the inherent ugliness in people. Perhaps that can’t be called ugliness, but rather the survival instinct of animals. Zhu Zi Li threw away the bone and solemnly put his backpack on, likely never to take it off again. From afar, I saw Zhu Zi Li examining his hand; earlier, he had gripped the bone so tightly that his hand was now covered with phosphorescent light, emitting a faint green glow. Why did he keep looking at it, bringing his left palm close to his eyes? Just as I was marveling at Zhu Zi Li’s curiosity in such dire circumstances, he suddenly let out a cry of surprise, bent down to search, and picked up the bone he had just thrown away. My heart skipped a beat. Had he, like Liang Ying Wu, discovered traces of the cannibalistic tragedy from back then? “There are words, on the bone!” Zhu Zi Li’s shout shocked everyone, and they quickly gathered around him. On that large thigh bone, dozens of characters were etched, each about half the size of a pinky nail. Had Zhu Zi Li not noticed the imprint of the characters on his glowing hand, we might never have known about the secrets carved into these white bones. “It’s the 18th day, 67 left, Bao San and Zhao Di, driven mad, have finally been eaten. A Yong and Bao Yue are still together. Alright, if you can keep this up, I’ll let you out.” These were the words inscribed on the thigh bone. This was indeed a crucial clue. Liang Ying Wu and I quickly pieced together several basic thoughts. First, it was certain that a tragic event involving cannibalism had occurred here over a hundred years ago. Although Liang Ying Wu and I had tried our best to keep it hidden before, it was no longer possible to do so. Those involved in the tragedy likely faced the same dire situation as us, choosing to eat others to survive. Crucially, there was an observer in this tragedy, the one who etched these words into the bone. This person had the ability to let people out, possibly being the mastermind behind the tragedy, holding the secrets to the escape tunnel. Additionally, in the events of over a hundred years ago, there seemed to be two central figures, A Yong and Bao Yue. Currently, we could only deduce this much because the information from these inscriptions was still too sparse. However, it was likely that this “observer” had not just inscribed this one bone; he might have used human bones as a diary to record the daily progress of the entire event. And these bones were naturally the remains of those like Bao San and Zhao Di who had been eaten. The urgent task now was to find other inscribed bones from the cave full of skeletal remains to fully uncover the events of the past, as the key to escaping might lie within. Everyone immediately sprang into action, first finding bones that could provide enough phosphorescent light for illumination, then beginning a thorough search of the bone cave. I also picked up a thigh bone, cold to the touch and with some unknown residue clinging to it. The mountain of bones required checking, and it would take countless hours. This examination needed meticulous observation, constantly turning over the bones by hand. I was fine, but the girls would find it tough. Yet, with life and death at stake, they had to steel themselves, like Fei Qing, who was retching with a pale face while examining each bone closely. Fortunately, we soon found a way to speed up our search—only larger bones could possibly have inscriptions, mainly thigh bones, skulls, and pelvic bones; smaller bones like ribs could be skipped. During the search, several questions kept flashing through my mind: how did this “observer” manage to watch from the sidelines when the situation was undoubtedly chaotic, making it impossible for even the strongest to ensure their safety at any moment, let alone inscribe so many characters on bones without being noticed? What was the secret to this survival skill? After a night of searching, by around 6 a.m., all the inscribed bones were finally found among the tens of thousands, including 73 skulls, 57 thigh bones, 32 pelvic bones, 11 shin bones, and arm bones. After spending over an hour sorting and arranging them, the cause of the entire incident and the daily progression over the 62 days of the tragedy became clear. The cruelty, brutality, perversion, and the mysterious, inscrutable abilities of the instigator led the people trapped in the cave to engage in a bloody slaughter over 62 days. Friends, brothers, even fathers and daughters turned against each other, either out of desperation eating each other’s flesh to survive one more day, or killing each other with their own hands. The stark white bones before us seem to transport us back to those 62 days a century ago, enveloping us in a nightmarish daze as we read this account. The woman who inscribed these words was named Xiao Xiuyun. She recounted these events in a style that mixed retrospection with diary entries. In the early days of the incident, she intermittently revealed her identity and her entanglement with Ah Yong while describing the scenes at the time. Coupled with my imagination and Liang Yingwu’s deductions, the mysterious cannibalistic event from over a hundred years ago in Shennongjia gradually reveals its true nature. The exact time frame remains uncertain, as unlike my own notes, Xiao Xiuyun did not feel the need to solemnly record the specific date in her recollections. In fact, in such a remote place like Shennongjia, life has not changed much over thousands of years, and this remains true even today. The dynastic names or political upheavals from the Central Plains had little to no effect here; the heavy mountains isolated them, making the names of the eras from the Central Plains perhaps unheard of.