I got out of the car and paid the fare. At the entrance, I checked the already blurry house number and confirmed that the address on the note was indeed here. I felt a bit uneasy. I thought to myself, isn’t this the kind of abandoned haunted building we often explored as kids? Why would someone ask me to come to a place like this? Is there even anyone living inside?

The driver was still counting the change I gave him, so I turned to ask him what kind of people lived here. The driver shook his head and said he didn’t know either; he only knew that this sanatorium was built in the 1960s. Golmud is a military city with many officers, and leaders from various countries often came to inspect it. This sanatorium was for the leaders back then, but it was closed down in the mid-1980s and turned into a theater, so he had been here before. At that time, there were only a few places in Hedong and Hexi, and I was lucky to have encountered him; if it had been one of those tricycle drivers from the north, they definitely wouldn’t have found this place.

I listened with some skepticism. After the driver left, I was the only one left on the street. I looked around; it was pitch dark, with only a dim streetlight in front of this building. I felt a little scared, but then I thought to myself that I had been into ancient tombs in the middle of the night, so what was there to fear about this old house? I pushed the door.

Outside the building, there was a wall, and the gate was an arched redwood door without a knocker. After pushing a few times, I found it was locked with an iron chain on the inside. The door wouldn’t budge, but this little obstacle wouldn’t stop me. I looked around and climbed up the streetlight pole, quickly scaling over the wall. It seemed my childhood mischief skills hadn’t faded.

Inside the courtyard, it was all weeds. I jumped down and could tell that there were blue bricks laid underneath, but the gaps were filled with grass. There was also a dead tree leaning against one side of the courtyard wall.

As I approached the small building, I opened my lighter to take a look and finally understood its dilapidated state. It had carved windows and doors, but they were all hanging down, covered in spider webs. The main door was locked with an iron chain and sealed with a sticker.

I pried open a window and carefully climbed inside. The floor was made of blue bricks, thickly covered in dust, and directly behind the door was a large hall, completely empty. I raised my lighter high and turned around carefully, and then I realized something familiar; as I thought about it, cold sweat broke out.

This hall was the place where “I” crawled on the ground in An Ning’s videotape.

I told myself I had come to the right place. I stood in the same position as in the videotape, looking at the blue bricks and those carved windows, the angles were exactly the same. I was becoming more and more certain of my thoughts. A mix of fear and excitement welled up inside me.

Continuing deeper into the building, there was a spiral wooden staircase on the left side of the hall, a very simple one, but at least it was a spiral leading to the second floor. I tiptoed over and looked up the stairs, only to see a pitch-black space above with no light.

I took out the key from my pocket—306, which should be on the third floor.

This felt somewhat unusual. I looked down at the steps of the staircase and noticed they were covered in a thick layer of dust, but among the dust, I could see some footprints. Clearly, someone had been moving around here.

I gently placed my foot on the pedal and pressed down, producing a creaking sound. It should be able to bear my weight, so I gritted my teeth and cautiously made my way up.

The upstairs was dark, and the creaking of the wood made me feel a bit uneasy. However, it was still not as terrifying as an ancient tomb, so my nerves could hold up.

I continued upwards and reached the second floor, only to find that the hallway entrance had been sealed off with cement. There was no door; it was completely blocked. Given the space downstairs, there should be several rooms behind the cement wall, which seemed to have been isolated, and the masonry work was quite rough.

As I touched the wall, I felt something strange. Could there have been structural issues with this house that required reinforcement?

But pondering over such oddities was pointless; I didn’t have the energy to think about these questions at the moment. I continued up to the third floor, where I saw a pitch-black corridor flanked by rooms. However, no light seeped from beneath any of the doors, indicating that they were likely unoccupied. The air was filled with a musty, unpleasant odor.

I focused my mind and carefully stepped into the corridor, avoiding spider webs. I noticed the door numbers were covered in dust as I read them, feeling somewhat like the protagonist in a Western suspense film. Soon, I arrived at the second-to-last door in the corridor. I raised my hot lighter to illuminate the door, revealing a faint door number: 306.

In that instant, I considered knocking, but then found it amusing, so I hesitated at the door before pulling out my key. I inserted it into the keyhole and turned it. With a click, the door opened easily with a sharp creak.

The room was small and very dark; the musty smell intensified as I stepped inside. I peered through the crack of the door and saw that one side of the room might have a window, with the light from the streetlamp filtering in, outlining the room’s general shape. There seemed to be a lot of furniture against the walls, but the shadows cast by the streetlamp made it hard to discern anything clearly. However, it was obvious that no one was there.

I took a deep breath and cautiously walked in, raising my already hot lighter. In the faint light, everything around me became clearer.

This was a bedroom. I saw a small bed in the corner, and the musty odor was emanating from it. As I approached, I found that the bedding had rotted into a black mass, producing an extremely unpleasant smell. The quilt was bulging, and at first glance, it looked as if it might be hiding a corpse, but a closer inspection revealed it was just the shape of the quilt.

Beside the bed was a writing desk, an old wooden school desk, covered with some trash, cloth, several pieces of scrap paper, and some chunks of white plaster that had fallen from the ceiling, all covered in a thick layer of dust.

Next to the desk was a large cabinet, three or four meters wide and taller than I was. The wood had likely expanded due to moisture, causing the doors to crack open. Looking up, I could see the connection between the top of the cabinet and the ceiling, which was stained with coal marks and water spots, indicating that there was a leak during rainy days.

The place seems to have been abandoned for a long time; given the state of disrepair, it must have been at least five years. However, although the house is old, it is just your typical old place. Why did the person who sent the videotape lure me here? What information does he expect me to find in this house?

At this moment, my anxious feelings gradually calmed down as I adapted to the environment. I placed the lighter on the table and began to search the drawers of the wooden writing desk, pulling them out one by one. However, most of them were empty, and two drawers were lined with old newspapers, which were moldy, so I didn’t even dare to touch them.

With nothing found in the drawers, could it be on the bed? I walked over to the edge of the bed and first looked underneath; it was full of cobwebs and nothing else. Then I took out a drawer from the side to use as a tool, trying to pry apart the tangled blankets from the mattress to see if anything was wrapped inside. However, after a few attempts, black sticky water oozed from the blankets, and there were even bugs inside. The smell of mildew was overwhelming, and I nearly gagged.

After finally managing to pull all the blankets onto the floor, I still didn’t find anything. In fact, I realized after a few tries that there wouldn’t be anything inside; who would hide something in such a disgusting place?

With those two places yielding nothing, the only option left was the large cabinet. However, the cabinet had locks; although the doors were cracked, it still required some effort to open it, and tools were necessary.

I hadn’t brought anything with me, so I had to look around for something. Eventually, I found an object on the windowsill. It was an old-style window latch that could be pulled out. Although it was rusty, the old-style latch was solid and sturdy. I pulled one out and used it as a crowbar, inserting it into the cracks of the cracked cabinet doors, prying them open enough for me to stick my fingers inside. Then, I braced one foot against one side and reached in, pulling hard outward. The door panel made a terrifying scraping sound and bent under the strain, then suddenly cracked with a loud noise, breaking apart. Dust from the door flew up, making it hard for me to see.

The building was quite quiet, and the noise I made sounded particularly frightening. At the moment the door panel broke, the sharp sound startled me, causing me to break out in a cold sweat. It took me a while to recover, and then I picked up the lighter to shine it into the cabinet.

I had no expectations of finding anything in the cabinet; I felt it was most likely empty, so I hadn’t mentally prepared myself too much. However, when I shone the light inside, I was taken aback.

There was indeed nothing in the cabinet; it was completely empty. But the bottom panel against the wall was mysteriously missing, revealing the concrete wall hidden behind the cabinet. To my surprise, there was a dark, half-person-height opening in the concrete wall, leading down a set of concrete stairs. I had no idea where it led.