215 Snake Swamp Ghost Town (Part 2) – Chapter 10 – Plan

The light from the lighter was very dim; it was already quite impressive that it could illuminate the situation a couple of meters away. In such light, I was startled to suddenly see a coffin.

Once I regained my composure, I felt extremely strange. This was truly an unprecedented occurrence. How on earth could there be a coffin here, and an ancient one at that?

A sanatorium built in the 1960s and 70s for leaders to rest in had secret underground facilities, which was already a bit unbelievable, but now, in this place, there was a coffin—this was utterly inconceivable. Who was inside? Was it an officer who had died here years ago?

I glanced behind me; the staircase I had come from was right behind me, so I wouldn’t get lost. I moved closer to take a look at the coffin.

From a distance, I could tell this was not a modern coffin. It was pure black, lying in the center of the basement like a gigantic long stone pillar. This size and shape suggested it was a coffin-shaped sarcophagus; coffins after the Republic of China period didn’t have sarcophagi. Judging by its design, this sarcophagus should have considerable historical significance—at least five to six hundred years old. Moreover, considering its size, it probably wasn’t used by an ordinary family, but at least by a scholar-official.

I stepped forward and touched it; it had fine patterns on it and was icy to the touch, resembling a stone coffin, though I couldn’t tell what kind of stone it was made of. As I touched it, the thick dust on the stone coffin was disturbed, revealing some delicate patterns underneath.

Bringing the lighter closer to examine it, I noticed there were signs of damage from chiseling on the lid, and there were indications of a pry bar being inserted into the gap between the lid and the sarcophagus. Clearly, I couldn’t be the first person to discover this massive sarcophagus; someone had attempted to pry it open before. I had some experience with such matters, making me particularly sensitive to this situation.

An ancient coffin couldn’t just appear out of nowhere in the basement of a modern building; someone must have brought it here for some reason.

The temperature in the basement was extremely low. I took deep breaths to gradually calm down, trying to ease my racing heart. I had spent the entire journey in extreme tension. Although I suppressed my fear, I still felt quite uncomfortable. While taking deep breaths, I began to ponder.

Someone had sent a videotape, an address, and a key to lead me to this dilapidated sanatorium, guiding me to discover this hidden door. Through the stairs behind the hidden door, I had found this basement, which also contained a stone coffin.

This had gone beyond any prank; was the other party trying to tell me about some unbelievable events that had occurred in this sanatorium?

It seemed that the closed-off floors and basement, as well as the story behind this stone coffin, must have a rather complex narrative.

I pushed against the lid of the stone coffin, of course not using much force, just testing whether it could be moved. Fortunately, it was as I had guessed—the stone coffin didn’t budge at all. Clearly, I couldn’t open it without tools.

I let out a sigh of relief. I had never experienced anything like opening a coffin in such a situation, especially alone. Not being able to open it meant I didn’t have to force myself to proceed.

After taking a closer look at the details of the stone coffin and finding nothing particularly noteworthy, I circled around it and continued walking forward. Eventually, I reached the end of the basement and saw a small iron door, quite low. I pushed the door open, and behind it was a corridor.

I had only taken a few steps when I realized that the structure here was the same as upstairs: a corridor with rooms on both sides. However, this corridor stretched on endlessly, seemingly leading to other places, and the rooms on either side had no doors, looking very rudimentary.

I picked up a lighter and walked into the first room. As I illuminated the space, I saw two desks against the wall on one side, surrounded by several filing cabinets. The walls were covered with various items, and the floor and desks were strewn with scattered papers.

It seemed to be an office. I felt increasingly puzzled; why would an office be located underground? That was just too strange. In the basement, there was a coffin on one side and an office on the other. Could it be that the funeral service in Gelmu was set up here back in the day?

As I pondered this, I approached the desk, wanting to see if there were any clues.

Upon closer inspection, I suddenly froze for a moment. For some reason, seeing the arrangement of the desk gave me a strange feeling, as if I had seen this room somewhere before.

I raised the lighter and recalled something, and I immediately gasped in shock. I recognized it right away: this room was the very one shown in the video of Huo Ling. The arrangement of the desk, the feel of the floor and walls—it was exactly the same. As I walked to the desk, I even saw the mirror she used to comb her hair, still in the same position as in the videotape.

My heart raced, and I took a deep breath to calm my emotions, as the strangeness within me reached its peak. When I watched Huo Ling’s video, I had thought she was in some residential home, never imagining that it would actually be in the basement of this sanatorium, and that I had found this place. Clearly, everything was real; the content recorded in the videotape was true.

Back then, Huo Ling had filmed herself here, constantly combing her hair, while “I” might have actually crawled through the grand hall above.

In an instant, I even saw her phantom before my eyes; it was as if our worlds had overlapped. The scenes from the videotape flickered in front of me.

But what was going on? A woman was in a secret basement of a sanatorium, continuously combing her hair, while a person resembling me crawled in the hall like a disabled individual. These events had genuinely occurred and were recorded; what was the purpose behind it all? What had happened in this sanatorium beyond the lens?

My mind felt a bit numb, and I started to feel dizzy. Clearly, the person who sent me the videotape intended for me to see this room, but after I did, I was even more confused, feeling as if I were piecing together a blank jigsaw puzzle with no starting point.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady myself, I then picked up the lighter to observe my surroundings. I needed to check this place for any clues.

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