“What reason?” Under the warmth of the campfire, my fatigue gradually lessened, but the pain from my injuries surged, and I felt discomfort everywhere in my body. However, I didn’t pay much attention to those aches; my focus shifted to my uncle San, who was sitting by the fire.

In the firelight, Uncle San looked somber. He exhaled a large puff of smoke before continuing, “Do you believe what I say?”

He looked at me, and I was at a loss for words. Clearly, I couldn’t believe him. Previously, I had sworn in the hospital that I would absolutely trust him, but I had broken that promise. Yet, Uncle San wasn’t telling the truth either. It seemed our game of cat and mouse had entered a deadlock, and under these circumstances, any explanation from him would be futile.

He let out a hoarse laugh and said, “If I wanted to deceive you, I would have a compelling reason to do so, and I would keep lying until the very last moment. I know you won’t believe me anyway, so rather than waste my energy, let’s wait until we find her, and you can ask her yourself.”

I sighed deeply, suddenly feeling an immense distance between me and this uncle who had once been so close to me. I couldn’t help but say, “Uncle San, I really don’t want it to be like this. I want to go back to how we were before, when you said one thing and I never questioned it. But now, I truly can’t see through you. Can’t we just have one more discussion? Please, let your big nephew in.”

Uncle San looked at me and lit another cigarette, saying, “Big nephew, this is the last time. I promise. I’m too tired; this time really is the last.”

We exchanged bitter smiles, both at a loss for words. I felt a deep discomfort in my heart, unable to describe the sensation. It felt like an irreconcilable knot blocking my heart, and it wasn’t a soft rope but a steel knot.

After a moment of silence, Uncle San spoke again, “Actually, I’ve told you many times that this matter is too complicated, with too many secrets involved. I don’t even fully understand what this is all about, so I can actually understand how you feel.”

I thought to myself, “What do you understand? No matter how little you know, you definitely know more than I do. Our positions in this matter are completely different; you are at the center of it, while I can only watch from the outside, unable to even find the entrance.”

But there was no point in saying more. Even so, I had come this far. I looked at the dark underground water pool outside, not wanting to dwell on these matters anymore. After all, I had followed him; unless he killed me, I was determined to see this through to the end.

After taking a few sips of spicy tea to soothe my throat, the pain in my sprained area began to flare up. As I rubbed it, I changed the subject, saying, “By the way, Uncle San, what was on the videotape that Aunt Wenjin sent you?”

Uncle San stood up and motioned for me to move aside. He took his laptop out of his luggage. “I can’t describe it to you; just watch for yourself.”

Of course, I wanted to see it, but I hadn’t expected Uncle San to be so proactive. He placed the laptop on his backpack and opened it. It turned out he had transferred the content of the videotape to the disk.

“I had a guy convert the videotape into a file, and it cost me three hundred bucks. I’ve watched it many times myself, but I really can’t make much of it, so don’t get your hopes up.” As he spoke, he had already opened the file. “It’s almost out of battery, so you can watch it while drinking.”

The media player popped up on the screen. I glanced around the environment and suddenly felt that the situation was a bit strange. Where was this place? I was still watching a laptop—indeed, the nature of exploration in this era has changed.

Uncle San clearly didn’t want to watch anymore; he handed me the computer and walked away, seemingly having noticed something that required his attention. The guy in black glasses leaned in closer, sitting behind me as if preparing to watch a movie.

His presence made me uncomfortable. I glanced at him, but he didn’t care; he looked at me, and I looked back at him.

I had no choice but to sigh inwardly, wondering what kind of person he was. I shifted to a more comfortable position, clicked play, and began to watch the screen intently.

After starting the playback, there was first a stretch of darkness, followed by a very loud, familiar noise that I couldn’t immediately identify. After listening for a while, I realized it was the sound of water.

The screen was black, showing not even a hint of light or shadow changes, but the sound of water from the speakers indicated that something was being played back, mixed with distant rumblings of thunder. One could imagine that the tape was filmed near rushing water or a small waterfall; perhaps the lens cap was on, or it was covered by a rain canopy, which meant nothing was actually captured on screen.

The sound of water continued, sometimes fading in and out, suggesting that the camera was in motion.

About five minutes into the playback, I heard other sounds beyond the water—breathing from several people and the sound of footsteps on a pile of stones. The footsteps were chaotic and slow, indicating that a few people were stumbling around. However, these sounds only emerged briefly before disappearing, leaving just the sound of water again.

I was a bit surprised. The first tape I received in Jilin featured Huo Ling combing her hair in the basement of that mysterious sanatorium in Golmud. The second tape, brought by An Ning, showed a person who looked extremely similar to me crawling in the lobby of that sanatorium in Golmud.

I had thought the third tape would at least contain content from that sanatorium, but now it seemed like it was filmed outdoors. I immediately recalled the torrential rain we encountered on our way here, which had created rushing streams in the bushes. Could this tape be recording the scene when Wen Jin’s team entered the canyon back then? This was important information.

As I continued to listen, the sound of water persisted, ebbing and flowing, suggesting that the camera had begun moving again.

The first two tapes I had watched were quite dull, so I was mentally prepared and not anxious. What surprised me was that the guy in black glasses was watching with great interest.

After patiently listening for about twenty minutes, the sound of water gradually calmed down, transforming from a noisy torrent into a distant sound of water that could be heard from inside the house. At the same time, the sounds of several people breathing reemerged, this time much clearer, mixed with a chirping sound, as if a few people had found a place far away from the water, which seemed to be a relatively enclosed space.

Then, we heard the first human voice on the entire tape; it was a woman’s voice, seemingly exhausted, gasping as she said, “Where is this? Have we gotten out?”

No one answered her. The surroundings were filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the clattering of objects being placed down. The screen remained black, which was somewhat depressing, but since we couldn’t fast forward through the sounds, we had to endure and concentrate.

After the woman spoke, there was a long period filled with the sounds of equipment being set down, coughing, and sighing. Eventually, another man spoke, not in response to her but asking someone else, “Is there any smoke left?”

His voice was distant, almost like background noise, and if one didn’t listen carefully, it would be difficult to understand. What impressed me was that this person’s voice had a Minnan accent.

Again, no one answered him, and we didn’t know if he got any smoke or not. But then we heard a loud metallic sound, as if something had dropped to the ground, followed by the man asking for smoke cursing, “Be careful!”

After that, there was silence. It seemed as if the camera had shifted slightly outside, or perhaps the person holding the camera had returned to the turbulent waters nearby, and the sound of water grew louder again. However, within a few minutes, it returned to its previous state. The man who had just asked for smoke said, “Where are we supposed to go next?”

No one answered him; everything remained the same, the progress bar inching backward, and the screen stayed black.

I watched patiently as time ticked by, and gradually, I too began to feel impatient. Just when I couldn’t hold back any longer and was about to drag the progress bar back a bit, the black-eyed figure pressed my hand down.

I was puzzled and thought to myself what he was doing, when suddenly a relatively coherent voice came through the speaker. It was a person with a strong Northwest accent, who seemed startled and shouted, “Listen, there’s a sound! Those things are coming back!”

Then there was a commotion, followed by the man with the Minnan accent quietly commanding, “Everyone, keep quiet!”

These people seemed well-trained; as soon as he spoke, there was an immediate silence in the speaker, and all voices vanished into the background sound of water. In that silence, I could indeed hear an unusual sound mixed in with the water, but it was too muddled to discern clearly.

My nerves tightened, and I hurriedly leaned closer to the speaker, feeling that the strange sound was something I had definitely heard before.

Sure enough, the sound grew closer, and the more I listened, the more familiar it felt. As I continued to listen, my body involuntarily began to tremble. A chilling sensation surged through my pores.

I suddenly recalled what that sound was.

It was the horn sound that echoed from the depths of the underground canyon before the Muffled Oil Bottle approached that bronze giant door.

“The City of Serpent Marsh” is finished; please continue reading “The Tomb Raider Notes” Volume Nine: “The Return to the Sea of Mysteries.”