Daomu Biji

Chapter 7 Tomb Robbery Notes

This is the mysterious basement of a mysterious sanatorium, where a mysterious woman has done some bizarre things. Well, since she has lived here, there will always be clues left behind. If she can find out a little bit, she may be able to understand the truth of some things. Even if it is all useless information, I can still know what her life and mental state were like at that time.

I know almost nothing about what happened in this sanatorium, and all the threads are important to me.

I started to take a look at anything I could see.

The buildings here are very low, and my body is quite depressed here, but the lighting of the lighter is more effective because it can shine far away. I took a look around and decided where to start.

In the blurry black and white image of the video tape, I couldn't freely see the whole picture and details of the room, but now that I can, what I see becomes more intuitive. I first imagined the real Huo Ling combing her hair. It was quite scary, so I shook my head to divert my attention.

The zipper in my hand can continue to burn and illuminate, but it was so hot that I couldn't hold it anymore if I pinched it up a little. I found a rag from the table, wrapped it up and continued to use it.

Under the weak firelight, I first looked at the walls. The four walls of this room were painted with white glue and were now covered with dust. There was a wooden stick with a clothes hook nailed to the wall next to the door, which was used to hang clothes. The place. There is newspaper attached to the bottom of the wooden stick to prevent the hanging clothes from touching the white dust on the wall. When the wooden stick came over, it was a cabinet with no door. This should be the place where Huo Ling changed clothes, but there was nothing in it. When I got closer, I saw that the cabinet was full of scratches as if something had scratched it.

Next to the wall, there is nothing. Only the wires hanging above are all gray, and there is a doorway connecting to the next room on one side. I don't know if it was not sealed when the site was built, or if it was smashed out later. The room opposite is empty.

Opposite the cabinet, there is a writing desk, two of them side by side. It was full of stuff, it seemed like some newspapers and trash that I couldn't see clearly. The wall next to the desk was covered with a lot of paper, all covered with dust.

I blew away the dust and looked over them one by one. I found that the content posted on the wall was very trivial. I saw electricity bills from the 1990s, some meaningless numbers written down casually. These pieces of paper, which have almost become an integral part of the wall, must have been conveniently used as phone records at that time, because I remember that the phone was placed in this position. But it’s gone now. All that remained was a severed telephone line.

These things can't give me any information. I can only know that she used electricity when she lived here. I sighed and started rummaging through the papers on the table.

Those papers are all in the dust, and there is smoke all day long, and I can't care so much. I opened the paper one by one, and found that the inside of the paper was rotten, and there were tiny centipedes that I disturbed, but these things were little brothers compared to the snow-capped ones in the Changbai Mountains. I quickly turned the paper over and took out a few notebooks.

After taking it out and shaking it, I discovered that it seemed to be a large manuscript pad, which I used to write manuscripts before computers, and something was written on it.

I turned it over and saw three lines on the first page:

Back room 2-3.

No. 012~053

Class: 20, 939, 45

What does it mean? I said in my heart,

It seems to be some kind of file number. Is it some kind of handwritten document or classic?

I turned to the first page and saw that it wasn't. On the second page, there was a picture, drawn with a ballpoint pen, and the drawing was so sloppy that it was impossible to tell what it was.

I calmed down and carefully identified it. It took me five or six minutes to see it. This turned out to be an ancient figure painting. It's just that this person obviously doesn't know how to draw, and the figure is almost out of shape. It looks extremely strange. The ancient figure does not look like a human, but looks like a long-mouthed fox.

There were many strange lines drawn around the figure. After I saw that the ghost thing was a person, the meaning of these lines also became apparent. It should be the background of the figure painting, which was probably a landscape, temple, trees or something like that.

I couldn't help but laugh, and thought to myself, what is this? Could it be Huo Ling?

Ling's sketch? Her hobbies are quite broad.

Turning over, I turned through thirty or forty pages in a row, all of which were pictures like this. There was no written content, so I put it down and read another one. It was the same. Except for the different content on the first page, there were almost the same maps inside. I didn’t know what it was, so I just piled it aside and continued to flip through the papers. As a result, there was nothing underneath. I only found a few rag-like things inside, and I couldn't even find a piece of paper with content.

I cursed again, thinking that it seemed that when they left, they might have taken away all the information.

But if I don’t give up, I don’t believe there will be anything left with me. I sat down where Huo Ling was combing her hair, rested for a while, and then opened the drawer in front of me to see what was in it.

It was the big drawer in the middle of the desk, under the countertop. I pulled it and felt a door. The damn drawer was actually locked, and it felt heavy.

Generally, discarded furniture is not locked up after moving, and this feeling indicated that there might be something inside, which made me excited. This kind of lock was not a problem for me. I stood up, took out a coat hook on the back of the door, inserted it into the drawer gap, and pressed down hard. The gap in the drawer was widened in one go, and the lock teeth came off. , I pulled it out and pulled out the drawer.

As soon as I picked up the lighter and took a photo, I let out a sigh. The drawer was indeed full of things. I put the lighter on the edge of the drawer and started rummaging through it.

This must be a woman's drawer. There are a lot of trivial things in it. It's very messy. It's obvious that the useful things were taken away when she left. What's left is a wooden comb and a small cake-like makeup from the 1990s. box, a thick stack of "Contemporary Film" magazines. These old magazines have a long history. I remember reading them as pornographic magazines when I was a child. There were also those black iron hairpins, many empty envelopes and an empty photo album.

There were a lot of envelopes, but they were all unused. I patiently opened them one by one and looked at them. There was nothing inside, and there were no photos in the album. I could see that they must have been left unused, but they were all taken away. .

Then, I flipped through those old magazines again, page by page, very carefully, but I still didn't find it.

I fell down on the chair and leaned on it regardless of the dust on it. I looked a little tiredly at the opposite side of the table through the dim light of the lighter. It was dark and deadly quiet, and I felt terribly disappointed. Obviously, if this seat belonged to Huo Ling, this woman was very careful and deliberately left no trace.

The coldness all around has greeted me. I gritted my teeth and couldn't give up. Damn it, Roger's law. It's impossible to leave nothing behind. I will definitely find something! I encouraged myself again, even though I was feeling a little desperate, so I pushed the drawers in one by one, got up and looked at the desk opposite.

There was no chair across from me, so I bent down and found that the big drawer in the middle was still locked, which was a bit strange. I repeated my old trick and pried the drawer open.

I fully expected that the scene I saw would be the same as before, and that I would still have to dig through the garbage. However, to my surprise, when I pulled it out this time, I found that the drawer was very clean and empty, with nothing in it. There was only a large yellow envelope in the middle of the drawer, which was bulging and as big as an A4 paper. , placed there squarely, as if it was placed there on purpose, waiting for me to see it.

"Hey" I felt something in my heart, realized something, and immediately picked it up and read it.

This is the kind of labor insurance envelope from the late 1980s. It is made of kraft paper and has a faded *** picture on it. When I touched it, I found that there was something very thick inside, but it was already damp and felt thorny. Yes, it feels very soft. There is no writing on the envelope.

I felt like this was the answer, so I quickly turned over the envelope and punched it. When I dug inside, I took out an old work note that looked like a big open magazine.

I was stunned for a moment, opened the cover, and found that on the first page of the notebook, there was a paragraph of extremely beautiful pen calligraphy:

I don't know which one of the three people you are. No matter who you are, when you came here and found this envelope, I believe you were involved in the matter.

The videotape is the last insurance program we set up. The sending of the videotape represents the safekeeping of the videotape.

People can no longer contact me, so this means that I am dead, or "it" has discovered me, and I have left this city.

Either way, it means that I may pass away soon, so the videotape will guide you here and let you see this note.

This notebook records our research efforts and experiences over the past ten years. I leave it to you so that you can know what you want to know.

However, I want to remind you that the contents inside involve some huge secrets. I once vowed to take these to my grave, but I still couldn't keep my promise. After reading these secrets, good or bad fortunes are unpredictable, so you should take care of yourself.

Chen Wenjin

September 1995

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