"He spent those days eating and sleeping, then waking up to eat again. In any case, the soldiers hadn't treated them too badly; the food was far better than anything he'd had at home."
"He'd cautiously asked the fishermen who'd been captured before him how often the soldiers came to take people away, but they couldn't say for sure either. There didn't seem to be any fixed schedule. Sometimes it was five or six days; other times, nothing happened for half a month."
"But what was coming would come in the end. One night, deep into the night, the Old Fisherman lay on a broken straw mat, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. It was as if he had a premonition that something was about to happen."
"Suddenly, he heard the clacking of a wooden clapper. It was different from the usual sound—this time it was unusually urgent, as if something terrible had happened. It was an alarm!"
"Then the people lying beside him all woke up, and an inexplicable sense of terror filled the entire cave."
"Only when someone came in carrying ropes and strips of cloth for tying people up did the Old Fisherman realize that tonight was when they were taking people out."
"This time, the one in charge was a burly, dark-faced man. An old scar slashed across his face, splitting his right eyebrow in two. He looked positively menacing."
"The man didn't waste words. Holding a small notebook, he read off the names one by one. Each time he called a name, someone came in and took the person away—though more often, they dragged them out."
"'Don't be afraid. As long as you do as you're told, you'll be fine.' Manager Qian imitated the voice of the Scarred-face Man from the rumors. 'I need you