Chapter 400: Escape Through the Hidden River

2022-05-20

This place was sealed tight. By flashlight, I could see only a single entrance behind us—no exits, nothing else. Last time I came here, I inspected the whole underground space as thoroughly as I could, but I never figured out how anyone could get out.

But Wu Zui wouldn’t have brought us here just to wait for death. There must be a way out. Wu Zui led the way, flashlight in hand, and pressed his ear to the wall, listening intently. I’d done that last time, too, and I remembered clearly—a rush of water behind it.

Dongxing City is split by the Dongxing River, the river the city is named after. But out here in the western mountains, I had no idea if this underground river was just a hidden branch of the main river or the real source itself. Wu Zui softly tapped on the wall, each knock steady and rhythmic.

Then, with a sharp click, the wall cracked open like a door.

A hidden door—one that could only be opened from the other side. If you were inside, there was no way out. The stone was jagged and uneven, shaped just like the rough mountain itself. The narrow opening hid among the wall’s natural dips and shadows.

There were no lights in here, and when you shined your flashlight across the rock, shadows from the outcroppings blended right into the recesses. It was almost impossible to spot the seam, so of course I’d thought this was nothing but a dead end. Plus, we’d had no time for a careful search last time—the situation was desperate.

After the case was over, nobody thought this place held any more secrets. Yet now, Wu Zui had led us here again. No one would ever expect us to show up in a spot like this. Wu Zui waved us through, leading the small group past the newly opened doorway.

In the beam of my flashlight, I saw Vivian, and next to her stood Guan Zengbin.

“Guan Zengbin?” I called out.

He didn’t respond. Guan Zengbin still seemed as cold and unapproachable as ever. Without long-term treatment, I doubted he’d wake up any time soon. But I could tell he perked up a little when he saw Wu Zui. I had no idea how Guan Zengbin could tell the two of us apart down here in the dark, but somehow he did. Most people wouldn’t have managed.

Vivian pulled the door shut, sealing it tight behind her.

Now wasn’t the best time to try waking up Guan Zengbin, so I scanned the area instead. We stood at the edge of an underground river—a narrow trail, carved out by centuries of water, just wide enough for us to walk along. If it was flood season, this little path would have been completely underwater.

Down here, the cold cut straight to the bone. The damp air pressed in from every side.

Wu Zui turned to Vivian and asked, “You’re sure only you know about this place? No one followed? Where’s Yinzi?”

Vivian nodded and replied, “Like you said, only the two of us know about this passage. Even Yinzi doesn’t have a clue.”

She pointed to a small boat tied up next to the dark river. Well, boat was generous—it was really just a wooden raft, bobbing gently in the current. Guan Zengbin climbed aboard first. Wu Zui sent the rest of us after, giving instructions as we loaded up: “Good.”

I was the second-to-last to step onto the raft. It was cramped, dipping low once we all sat down. The current here was slow, though, and as we drifted downstream, the ride was surprisingly calm. Still, I had no idea where we’d end up once we left the cave.

With any luck we’d float clear of the cordon. Judging by our speed, it’d take several hours.

Every step fit perfectly into the next, like Wu Zui had said—he missed nothing.

Vivian untied the rope holding us in place and climbed onto the raft. Wu Zui asked her, “Vivian, at this pace, how long until we hit the exit?”

Vivian considered it, then answered, “It should take about three hours. You’ll be out by four in the afternoon. Yinzi’s already waiting for us at the exit. It’s safe there—he’ll get us out. After that, we just lay low a few months, let things blow over, and finally start the life we want outside Dongxing City.”

She pointed out a backpack on the raft. “None of us had breakfast—I started prepping early. There’s bread and some snacks in there. Help yourselves if you’re hungry.”

Wu Zui was genuinely touched. He said, “Vivian, you can be so careless most days, but you actually remembered we haven’t eaten today. Really, you almost made me cry.”

Vivian let out a small laugh. “I just knew…”

But she never finished that sentence. She collapsed into the river, her body quietly drifting along with the current, the same gentle pace as our raft. By now, Wu Zui’s habit of killing had numbed me. Though I was seething inside, I couldn’t even bring myself to say a word.

We’d never know what Vivian wanted to say. I just knew Wu Zui’s cruelty ran deep—so deep I honestly couldn’t tell who, if anyone, he considered irreplaceable, or if there was a single person in the world he wasn’t willing to kill.

When killing becomes routine, perhaps your heart goes numb like Wu Zui’s had. Bloodshed and betrayal became just another part of life.

Nobody said a word. Jasmine held the flashlight out front, Guan Zengbin guided us along with a wooden oar, and Shi Huacheng lay back with eyes closed. Wu Zui stared into the darkness ahead, lost in thought. I picked up the backpack, found nothing but little sandwich buns inside.

I ate quietly. Before I knew it, tears streamed down my cheeks. To be honest, I didn’t even know what I was crying for. Maybe it was just this place, this hopelessness, and not sadness, that made my eyes keep overflowing. Sometimes tears come from despair, not grief.

Everything was in Wu Zui’s hands now. Even my whole life, it felt, was under his control.

The mood grew heavy, nearly unbearable in the silence. Wu Zui yawned and called back over his shoulder, “Too quiet. Why not tell some stories? We can’t just sit here for three hours in silence, right?”

No one replied. Wu Zui tried again. “How about it, Jasmine?”

Jasmine shook her head.

“What about Guan Zengbin?” Wu Zui asked.

“I don’t know any stories. Wu Meng, big brother, why don’t you tell one instead?” Guan Zengbin said.

I was just about to speak when I realized Guan Zengbin wasn’t talking about me at all—he meant Wu Zui. Wu Zui caught my eye and burst out laughing. After a moment, he announced, “Alright, since Guan Zengbin asked, I’ll tell you all a story.”

He sat cross-legged in the middle of the raft and began:

This story starts twenty years ago. Back then, Old Zhang and Lai San—Lai San was just seventeen or eighteen—came outside and found the old group had dissolved. No one left to take orders from, so Lai San decided to take over and start again.

He gathered his contacts and worked his way up, always ruthless, especially to himself.

Gradually, he gained power, drew people to him, and during one job, someone he valued most was caught. That guy was as ruthless as Lai San, hard on himself, too. With him exposed, Lai San sensed the danger closing in. That’s when I appeared.

Just one sentence was enough for me to win Lai San over: ‘I’m Wu Chen Kong’s son.’

So Lai San started working for me, and not long after, he introduced me to his old partner, Old Zhang. While talking to Old Zhang, I learned about someone who could build a Bagua Maze. I sent Lai San to get me the design.

But building a maze costs money, so I set up Liu Yinyan, using his weaknesses to wring more cash than he could ever spend. But where to build the maze? That’s when I devised another plan—the Twelve Zodiac Case. I used the shelter Wu Xiufen dug for her son as the site for the maze. Step by step, everything fell into place, and I could move forward.

But while I was preparing, I started having some new ideas—interesting ones.

“No way,” I interrupted. “How could everything line up so perfectly? What if those people hadn’t turned into murderers? Without that, how could you use their cases to pull off your plan?”

Wu Zui shook his finger and said, “You’ve met my master, Wei Demian, haven’t you? He once told me: never tell people how to kill. Instead, dig out the evil inside them. Everyone has a dark side—the only difference is whether you can draw it out.”

“Take you, my dear brother. Haven’t you ever had a moment, deep down, when you wanted to kill someone?” Wu Zui locked his eyes onto mine.

He stared at me so hard I could barely breathe.