I stared blankly at the address and the key in my hand. The fat guy was right; I had just been thinking about this. It seemed that the person who sent the videotape really wanted me to find it, and this key should be for the door at the address on the paper. If that’s the case, then it’s possible that the other party might not be home when I go over. Did he want me to explore it on my own?
Suddenly, a strange thought crossed my mind: could that house be the young man’s home? Did he know he might not come back, so he entrusted someone to send me the key to his house? Was it like leaving an inheritance for me?
If that were true, maybe going to his house could let me learn about his past. But then again, that seemed highly unlikely…
Moreover, if that were the case, could there also be something in the two tapes that An Ning had?
That night, I tossed and turned, leaning against the edge of my bed and smoking one cigarette after another. I usually only smoke when I’m feeling down, but no matter how many I smoked now, it didn’t help; I still felt uncomfortable inside.
Looking back at the entire situation, from the moment I first received the videotape to now discovering what was in it, it had only been a few months. However, each new discovery made things even more confusing and complicated.
In fact, although I had uncovered the secret of the videotape, what truly troubled me was its content. Whether the sender intended for the content to serve as a cover or simply grabbed two random tapes, the content would undoubtedly capture the viewer’s full attention. And this content couldn’t be fabricated. A person like him wouldn’t be familiar with the recording methods of videotapes, so where did he get the tapes?
I was certain that there were more tapes like these. Based on the recording time, it would take about eight tapes to fill a full day. Sending me one empty tape and one with content indicated that the sender had many options when choosing the tapes, which at least suggested that there might be other tapes at that location.
The figures of “Huo Ling” and “me” were monitoring our actions, clearly with some unavoidable purpose, not just for fun.
Of course, what bothered me the most were An Ning’s two tapes. I had always considered myself an outsider, merely an accessory. Following my uncle, the first time was my own whim, the second time was due to circumstances, and the third time was inexplicably following arrangements. Each time, as long as I said “no,” it had nothing to do with me. So when things suddenly developed to a point where I seemed to be involved, I felt a bit lost.
However, the fat guy’s hint this time was like a sudden revelation. I realized that my way of thinking was perhaps too complicated. Maybe it was precisely because of this habit of overthinking that I made a straightforward matter so complicated. Perhaps the situation itself was just like this one, without any twists.
I thought a lot, and then I remembered what Li Chen Zhou had said to me that day: this matter might have a huge relation to me. Considering how my uncle had schemed to deceive me, if he didn’t want me to be involved in this affair, then why did he take me up the snow mountain? Li Chen Zhou’s words were indeed very reasonable.
I recalled my past again, and in my memories, there is truly nothing that could possibly connect me to this matter. When I was a child, my father was plain and simple, always taking family responsibilities to heart; my grandfather was a formidable figure, the backbone of the family; my second uncle was stingy with words, serious and earnest; my third uncle was carefree and unruly. All of these elements formed my childhood memories. Although they each had different personalities, they were all very kind to me; even my second uncle would smile at me when he looked my way.
I can say that my childhood, while not particularly happy, was probably like that of anyone else my age—nothing special at all. In recent years, my university experience has been exceedingly mundane, and my memories have become even clearer. I have certainly never had the experience of crawling around in a dark room, dressed like a corpse.
One night, I couldn’t fall asleep, staring at the ceiling until dawn, lost in thought, and the more I thought, the more depressed I became. The whole situation felt like a web that ensnared me; no matter where I tried to escape, I could only see countless holes, but the strands of the web blocked my way.
The situation arose because of my personality. My indecisiveness and unwillingness to give up complicated matters further. Perhaps I shouldn’t approach problems so passively; sometimes, I shouldn’t wait for others to give me clues before I start to ponder. When others finally provide you with clues, you can’t be sure of their truth, and they often come too late and are full of distractions.
At this point, I suddenly frowned, recalling the advice my friends gave me when they were leaving. One of them said, “The reason things have become so complicated is that you keep insisting on getting answers from your third uncle. If he has already deceived you, he certainly wouldn’t want you to know certain things, so he cannot tell you the truth. Lies breed lies, and if you keep asking, you will only make yourself feel that nothing in this world is trustworthy. The more jumbled the information becomes, the harder it is to understand the truth. Instead of relying on others, why not seek the answers yourself? For example, you could check whether the expedition team consisted of ten or eleven people by looking up relevant materials from that time. That would be far more feasible than trying to discern whether what your third uncle said is true or false.”
Thinking back, he was indeed right.
Alright! I told myself, damn it, since this matter is now related to me, I’ll trust no one. This time, I won’t tell anyone; I’ll go to Golmud by myself to find out what’s really going on.