The Freight Station was utterly empty.
Half the rails had already been dismantled, leaving only two black grooves in the ground. Rainwater pooled inside them, reflecting the broken light on the warehouse roof. Several abandoned forklifts stood beside the loading dock, their tires flat and their bodies thick with dust. Wind passed through the open warehouse doors, making the plastic curtain on the wall flap softly.
Lu Wenchuan walked at the front.
Xu Zhihan followed half a step behind, his fingers hanging at his side, the golden mark on his palm hidden beneath his cuff. The Deputy Captain led the others out to either side, moving lightly, their soles making faint sounds against the gravel.
The first warehouse was empty.
So was the second.
At the third, a faint smell of blood entered the air.
Lu Wenchuan raised a hand.
Everyone stopped.
An old lamp hung in the middle of the warehouse, its light swaying slowly. Gu Huai sat beneath it in an iron chair, his hands bound to the armrests and his wrists wrapped in red lines. His head hung low, his shirt was bloody, and his lips were cracked. He was still alive.
Xu Mingji drew a sharp breath behind them.
Xu Zhihan turned to look at him.
"What did you follow us here for?"
Xu Mingji was pale, his voice kept very low. "I knew Gu Huai had been here before. He said there was no one here, that it was a good place for some peace and quiet."
Lu Wenchuan looked around Gu Huai.
There was a formation beneath the chair.
Red lines wound around it three times, burrowing deep into the ground. Three objects lay at its edge: a rubbing of the marriage contract, a strip of old photographic paper from the Photo Studio, and