Chapter 56.2: Fire and Trap

Runsheng kept the spade in his right hand while gripping Li Zhuiyuan’s arm with his left.

Once they were physically connected, it at least ensured they wouldn’t suffer from any more disorienting spatial shifts.

Li Zhuiyuan pressed upward with his arms. Runsheng got the hint, lifting his left arm to hoist the boy onto his back. The boy wrapped his arms around Runsheng’s neck.

“Brother Runsheng, close your eyes.”

“Got it!”

Runsheng shut his eyes, surrendering all control to the boy.

Li Zhuiyuan also closed his eyes, focusing solely on his sense of hearing.

“Straight ahead, ten steps.”

Runsheng stepped forward immediately.

Tan Wenbin grabbed the back of Runsheng’s vest and followed closely behind.

“Turn left.”

Runsheng turned.

“Walk forward twelve steps, then turn right and go six steps.”

Runsheng obeyed without hesitation.

All around them came the constant shuffling of cloth shoes—those two elderly folks wielding cleavers were clearly agitated, but didn’t dare charge in.

With the boy’s guidance, all it took was a direction callout for Runsheng to swing his spade and strike them down—even blind. The old pair only had the advantage of sight; they were still just old people.

“Straight ahead. Swing the spade down. That’s the kitchen door.”

Runsheng lifted his spade and began hacking.

No sound of impact came from ahead. It had likely been “relocated”—moved far, far away.

After several swings, Runsheng followed up with a few hard kicks.

“Advance fifteen steps.”

Runsheng pressed forward.

In Zheng Haiyang’s house, the dining area and kitchen were connected. Beyond the kitchen door was the living room, and only through the living room could they exit the house.

This was a pitch-dark maze, but Li Zhuiyuan had played similar games when blindfolded before.

“Turn right, twelve steps. It's a bit of a distance—smash the door. There’s glass on the living room door, so be careful.”

Runsheng followed the instructions and continued to batter the door.

Li Zhuiyuan suspected that this bizarre spatial configuration was unique to this building. Even if it extended further, that was fine. Once outside, they could reach the dam and find open fields. The neighbors lived far apart. Worst case, Runsheng could sprint through the fields—no way it could follow them out that far.

Tan Wenbin understood what Li Zhuiyuan was trying to do. He wanted to remind him that one of their group was still missing, but held back. Little Yuan was too sharp to have forgotten Zheng Haiyang.

He chose not to go back yet—getting to safety came first. Tan Wenbin understood. Most importantly, he was just another piece of baggage on Runsheng’s back now. He had no right to demand anything.

They had to escape first. Then they could beg Little Yuan to find a way to save Haiyang.

“All right, it should be broken open now. Brother Runsheng, let’s—”

“Aaaah! Aaaah!”

Zheng Haiyang’s screams came from not far behind.

“No, no, no—help me, help me!”

Tan Wenbin bit down so hard on his lip it bled, but he still didn’t say a word. He didn’t even dare tighten his grip on Runsheng’s vest.

His buddy, the one he’d always protected, was in real danger—but he had to ignore it.

He wasn’t scared. If he’d been alone, he would’ve run back in an instant, danger or not.

But now, he was afraid that doing so would drag Little Yuan into it and cloud his judgment.

Zheng Haiyang’s screams did make Li Zhuiyuan pause—just for a second.

Then came a firm command:

“Go! Run twenty big steps! Jump!”

Runsheng started running. Tan Wenbin followed suit.

Runsheng leapt. Tan Wenbin tried to count his strides but struggled to keep up. When Runsheng jumped, Tan Wenbin lagged behind.

Pain shot through his knees as he toppled over and hit the ground hard.

But when he opened his eyes, he saw stars in the night sky and vegetable plots all around.

They were out!

Looking ahead, Tan Wenbin saw that the area around Zheng Haiyang’s house was bordered by a short cement wall, just under a meter high.

Little Yuan had estimated the distance and told Runsheng to jump. Tan Wenbin hadn’t made the jump—he’d crashed into the wall and tumbled over it.

Luckily, it only scraped him up a bit. Painful, but not serious.

Runsheng turned back toward the house.

Li Zhuiyuan patted Runsheng’s shoulder. Runsheng reached back with one hand to help the boy land steadily.

“Brother Runsheng, use your vest to bandage Brother Binbin.”

“Okay!”

Runsheng tore up his vest and used the strips to bind Tan Wenbin’s wounded left arm. The bleeding was mostly stopped.

In the earlier darkness, a cleaver had slashed Tan Wenbin’s arm. It bled a lot, but it wasn’t too serious—especially since the attacker hadn’t been someone with Runsheng’s strength.

Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng, by contrast, were unharmed. Li Zhuiyuan had dodged attacks by sound; Runsheng had kept swinging the Yellow River Spade, never letting the old pair get close even while blind.

Tan Wenbin had gotten lucky—he struck a match just in time and reached Runsheng.

He should’ve been one of the two most endangered.

The other was probably still inside.

“Brother Runsheng, my compass.”

Tan Wenbin quickly said, “It’s in the bag—still in the house.”

Earlier, the equipment bag was at Runsheng’s feet. He’d deliberately pulled out the Yellow River Spade and kept it within reach, learning from the last dinner at Zhou Yong’s place.

But once everything went dark, he only had time to keep hold of the spade—not grab the other gear.

Runsheng reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a purple compass.

“I’ve kept Little Yuan’s compass on me the whole time.”

Li Zhuiyuan took it and began modeling the space around them.

Soon, he made a discovery.

“We haven’t left its influence yet. We’re still inside.”

Runsheng bent down, ready to carry the boy again.

Tan Wenbin tensed—was even this “outside” fake?

“It’s not too bad. This area affects the outside world, not the inside. People outside can’t perceive our location changes. We’re still within, but we’ve left the most dangerous zone.”

Runsheng and Tan Wenbin both breathed a sigh of relief.

Tan Wenbin called softly, “Little Yuan…”

“I know.”

Li Zhuiyuan continued his deductions.

If he could model this space, the darkness would be like someone flipping on a light. Danger would cease to be danger.

He’d thought about telling Tan Wenbin to run and find Tan Yunlong.

Yes—since they were fishing something out tonight, how could they not inform Tan Yunlong?

If they didn’t, who would they hand it over to?

Tan Yunlong had been monitoring the perimeter all afternoon, accompanied by four plainclothes officers.

When the four of them came from school, they hadn’t checked in—because they weren’t acting together. No matter what, Tan Yunlong would be watching all night.

But seeing Tan Wenbin’s injuries, Li Zhuiyuan knew this thing was vicious. The effect of the “memorial tablet” likely wouldn’t be enough here.

If they called Tan Yunlong and the others in now, it would only put them in harm’s way.

“Ah!”

Just then, Zheng Haiyang burst out through the shattered living room door, covered in blood, wounds everywhere.

He clutched a stool, swinging it madly as he fled.

Behind him, his grandparents advanced, step by step, cleavers dripping blood.

Tan Wenbin shouted with all his might, “Haiyang! Haiyang! Haiyang! This way!”

Just reach the edge of the dam and come down—it’d be safe.

If they could just see him, Runsheng alone could handle the old pair easily. Even Tan Wenbin himself could manage.

Li Zhuiyuan: “Shut up!”

“Huh?”

Tan Wenbin didn’t get it at first—but then he understood.

Sound, too, could be manipulated inside.

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