Chapter 300: Continue Waiting

We did nothing here and waited for a full three days. During these three days, the only place I paid attention to was the cave entrance where they had disappeared. This was such a long and anxious process that I think only those who have been in the same situation can understand.

During this time, I tried more than once to enter that cave entrance, but all attempts failed. It really was not a passage an ordinary person could climb. The highest I got was ten meters, and I was completely exhausted, my calves trembling like a sieve.

Among this group, Third Uncle's men certainly did not dare to go deeper. The only one who might have been able to enter was Black Blind, but he never showed any intention of doing so. I think he probably felt that even if he went in, he wasn't sure he could come out. The atmosphere in the camp was gloomy. That "Mop" urged us to leave several times, saying that those two might already be dead inside. Since we couldn't go in, we might as well save our energy and rations to prepare for the trip out.

I couldn't accept that after all the hardships, this was the result. I buried my head and almost couldn't listen to those words. I could only think about what exactly had happened inside.

Wenjin had untied the rope; she did it deliberately. I remembered her smile before she left, and I felt she might have planned it long ago. That meant she knew what she would encounter inside, and knew that this kind of "not coming out" situation would happen.

Wenjin had spoken fatalistically all the way here. Her life over the past few years was simply indescribable; it's possible she had such thoughts. Perhaps she found inside that there was no way to solve her "corpse transformation" problem, and so, utterly despondent, she chose to end her life. But what about Poker-face? Why didn't he come out? That didn't make sense. I was certain something must have happened inside.

What could it be? I had absolutely no direction to think. Were they lost? I thought the passages inside were winding and twisting, forming an endless maze. Once you entered, you couldn't come out. But that couldn't explain why Wenjin had untied the rope.

My mind was full of extremely anxious thoughts. When I rested, I saw a deep hole before my eyes; when I closed my eyes, it was still a deep hole.

I really don't want to describe what happened next.

Starting from the fourth day, Mop and his people began to complain incessantly. I was in a very bad mood and nearly got into a fight with them several times. But there was still no sign of movement from that cave. At one point I even wondered whether Wenjin and Poker-face had ever existed at all, and this whole thing was just my imagination.

The unease and anxiety grew heavier. In my heart I began to admit that what Mop and the others said might be correct, but my reason forced me to argue with them. This nearly drove me crazy.

On the sixth day, "Mop" finally left with his men. In their view, there was no doubt about it: even if Poker-face and Wenjin weren't dead yet, they would surely die in a few more days. Originally they had hoped to rely on our experience to lead them out, but now, under these circumstances, they obviously refused to waste any more time. Black Blind patted me, indicating I should leave too, but I refused. He sighed and followed them, leaving only Fatty and me.

They also took a large amount of food. I knew it was definitely more than their fair share, but I really couldn't be bothered to argue with them.

Fatty had actually advised me too, but he knew my temper. After going through all this and arriving here, even if there wasn't a perfect ending, there should at least be an incomplete stop. But for it to end so abruptly, I suddenly realized how stupid I was. What exactly did I come here for? Was this it? Everything ends like this? I absolutely couldn't accept it.

Fatty had no choice but to stay with me. The two of us just looked at each other and waited. I suddenly remembered an absurd play called "Waiting for Godot" and couldn't help wanting to cry. I thought to myself, my absurd play was actually a tragedy.

This kind of life lasted for a few days—I can't remember exactly how many, but it wasn't too long, because we didn't have much food, though we hadn't finished it all at that point. After Mop and the others left, I was actually almost completely hopeless. I was on the verge of breaking down. I could no longer think about what I was doing here. All I could do each day was look at that cave entrance. According to Fatty, it was the behavior of a madman.

That day, I woke up in a daze. Fatty was supposed to keep watch but had also fallen asleep, snoring. These past few days he had slept well; the wounds on his body had healed.

I had no motivation to wake him. I walked to the bottom of that hole and looked up for who knows how many times. There was still nothing. I stared blankly for about ten minutes, then went to eat breakfast.

Fatty and I had very little food left. I dug it out, found half a biscuit left over from yesterday, and continued eating. As I ate, I suddenly heard a strange sound, like singing, or maybe sleep-talking.

I thought it was Fatty talking in his sleep and paid no attention. I finished the biscuit in a few bites and was about to wake him. Just then, I had a sudden shock—I saw that between Fatty and me, there was actually a person lying there.

I snapped out of my daze and looked closely. It turned out to be Poker-face.

He had clearly lost weight; he was curled up there with a blanket over him, not moving at all.

When had he come back? While we were sleeping? At first I thought I was dreaming, but then I realized I wasn't. I almost went crazy. I rushed over, grabbed his blanket, and yelled, "You bastard, where the hell have you been?"

He was pulled up by me, and I wanted to grab him, but then I saw his face and suddenly realized something was wrong. His expression was strange, completely different from his usual demeanor. His eyes were vacant, his whole body was trembling, and his lips kept quivering as if he were possessed.

My heart skipped a beat. I immediately kicked Fatty awake, then helped Poker-face up, pressed his neck, and called his name. But he had no reaction at all, as if he couldn't hear our voices. He couldn't even move his eyes.

An extremely ominous thought rose in my heart. Fatty came over and asked me what was wrong. I said, "How should I know?" He pressed Poker-face's temples and looked at his expression, clicking his tongue. "Damn, it can't be, is Little Brother an idiot?" "Impossible, don't talk nonsense," I said, calling out a few times, "Stop pretending, I know you're faking it, you can't fool me!" I could hear him shivering, huddled there lifelessly, muttering something from time to time.

I leaned close to his lips to listen, and I heard him rapidly repeating one sentence:

"There's no time left."