The rag doll led Tang Qisheng away, back to the room where he had awakened after returning to the outside world. It pulled him straight toward a wall.
The wall was mottled and peeling. The dark green waterproof paint that had once covered it had come off in large patches because of the damp. The instant the rag doll's body touched the wall, Tang Qisheng's eyes snapped shut against his will.
When he opened them again, they were back in the underground corridor. Surrounded by blood vessels and vines covering the walls and floor, breathing air heavy with the stench of blood, he felt as though he had crossed into another lifetime.
He turned around. There was still only a wall behind him. Tang Qisheng reached out and touched it; the surface felt utterly real. He rapped it twice with a bent finger, but it made no hollow sound.
Just as the boy had said, only someone with the director's eyes could find the doors here.
The moment he appeared in the corridor, Tang Qisheng had looked around. The corridor was peaceful now. Neither the director nor the children who had lost their eyes were lying in wait for them.
As if sensing the question in his mind, the rag doll lowered its head and laid a soft palm against Tang Qisheng's forehead. The next moment, an indescribable, strange sensation passed into his mind.
The door was alive. It could move wherever the rag doll wished, opening anywhere in the underground corridor—except for the Spirit Laboratory hidden inside the director's office. So there was no point in lying in wait. Besides the director, only a handful of the children could pose a threat to the rag doll.
Scattered bits of information gradually came together in Tang Qisheng's mind, giving him