There was no scheming, no hidden agenda, no probing each other's intentions. The voice coming through the walkie-talkie was so innocent that even Gao Ming could not bear to deceive him.
He played the part of a good listener, letting the man, who sounded very old, keep telling his stories.
Compared with what he had experienced in his nightmares, these stories were ordinary and unremarkable, the sort of things that happened every day. Yet for reasons Gao Ming could not explain, he listened intently.
Perhaps moved by the man's tone, Gao Ming hesitated for a long time before speaking. "I'm not your Older Brother. Someone else gave me this walkie-talkie."
The torrent of words stopped abruptly. The man on the other end seemed stunned. Only after a long while did he appear to recover, apologizing to Gao Ming for bothering him.
But after the apology, a hint of tears crept into the man's voice. "My brother said I could use this walkie-talkie to reach him, no matter how far apart we were. He's my only family. My brother is a really good person. He would never lie to me."
"Don't panic. What's your brother's name? Maybe I can help you find him." Gao Ming knew he had become entangled in an enormous conspiracy. All the suffering he had endured was merely the tip of the iceberg.
"My brother's name is... I can't remember. I would never forget it! My brain just can't remember!" The sound of a hand striking a head came through the walkie-talkie. The blows were very hard.
"Take your time. Take your time."
"I would never forget him, but I can feel it. Every morning when I wake up, my memories of my brother get a little blurrier. It's like some force is making me forget him.