Chapter 333: Siphon Effect

Yuncai sat next to Poker-face, and from a distance I couldn't tell if she'd managed to talk to him. Fatty stared straight ahead, and I teased, "You're heartbroken—my condolences."

Fatty was unimpressed. "Aren't you the same!"

"Same my ass!" I snapped. "I'm not as twisted as you. I'm not interested in little girls."

Fatty patted me. "I believe in Xiao Ge. He's absolutely a man of honor." With that he handed me the liquor, then got up to take a piss. Soon there came a long, relentless stream of water sounds from behind, which went on and on—who knows how long he'd been holding it in.

I couldn't help but chuckle. I was tired of laughing anyway, so I quieted down and stared at the moonlit lake in the distance. Suddenly I felt that coming here might have been some kind of fate.

Looking at the lakeside scenery alone, who would imagine that such eerie things had happened here back then? And hearing our bold laughter, who would know that in fact we were carrying so much baggage? Everything in the world is simple, but people seem to be the most complicated, and this complexity is something they resist yet cannot escape.

Much ado about nothing—it's all much ado about nothing. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about the state of mind I used to have, then comparing it to what I felt now. The image of myself back then, stumbling through so many mysteries, seemed truly ridiculous.

After finishing his piss, Fatty shivered as he walked back. Seeing Yuncai still over there, he said in surprise, "That girl hasn't been blown off yet? She's got perseverance."

I replied, "Don't be so sure—maybe Xiao Ge actually likes that type. Right now they're probably exchanging love tokens."

Fatty said, "No way. They're so far from us—if some monster comes out of the lake and drags them off, I won't be able to save them. Let me go protect them a bit." He started to move.

I grabbed him and told him not to disturb them. Poker-face was probably annoyed enough already; his head was surely full of questions. I'd been through that kind of time myself—it was better to leave him alone. Listen closely—Yuncai wasn't even talking; maybe she was just sitting with him watching the sky.

Fatty sat down and listened carefully. Then he heard Yuncai singing on the other side. Both of us quieted down. A faint lake breeze carried a light, clear voice—a Yao ethnic song, sung softly but distinctly.

No one spoke anymore. I thought to myself that Yuncai was a really nice girl, so I sat down and listened while gazing at the stars.

Thin clouds drifted across the sky, and soon my mind became as calm as the lake. Gradually, in the ethereal singing, I slipped into a daze.

Half asleep, I didn't know how long had passed when suddenly the singing stopped. My heart gave a jolt and I opened my eyes. On one side, Poker-face had already stood up and was staring at the lake. On the other side, the dogs that had been lying around bored all raised their heads and looked in the same direction.

Fatty was still meditating with his eyes closed. Agui also sensed something strange. I woke Fatty up, and then we heard a "pata-pata" sound coming from the direction of the lake with the wind, as if several large-footed legs were walking out of the shallow water onto the shore.

All the dogs stood up and watched that direction warily. These hunting dogs were well trained—none of them barked. Fatty and I exchanged a glance; I bared my teeth at him, and he pointed at the flashlight nearby, signaling me to hand it to him. But Agui told us to sit still and waved for us not to be nervous. He said softly, "It's okay. Sounds like a wild animal lapping water."

"What kind of animal? Sounds pretty big from the noise," Fatty whispered.

Agui picked up his hunting rifle, told us to stay put, and crept barefoot into the darkness. Yuncai followed behind him. Fatty, excited at the prospect of a hunt, couldn't contain himself and gave us a signal. I wanted to see too, so we hung back a few meters and secretly tailed them.

When we reached Poker-face, we could vaguely make out some of the lake's surface. We looked for the animal we'd imagined but didn't find it. Maybe the beast had made a big splash drinking but was actually small. We swept the area with the flashlight, following the sound. But as we searched, we found that the sound was coming from all directions and had a rhythm—it didn't sound like it came from an animal. "It's not an animal. What's that sound?" Fatty muttered to himself.

"Surf sound," said Poker-face.

We looked at each other in confusion. A lake this small could have tides? Was the moon especially big tonight? We looked up, but the moon was barely visible.

Agui put down his gun, and we walked toward the waterline. Sure enough, near the shoreline, the lake water was pulsing rhythmically, like waves lapping against a beach, though the amplitude was small. The sound of an animal drinking was actually water hitting rocks.

I looked down at the stony shore and noticed the water level had dropped—where we stood was wet. That meant that during the time we'd been bullshitting and Yuncai had been singing, the lake's water level had been steadily falling. From the wet line to the water's edge, I counted at least a dozen steps. The water level had dropped significantly.

"What's going on? Is the lake bottom leaking?" Fatty cupped his hand over his eyes to look.

I was familiar with geography and recognized this as a geographic phenomenon. I told him, "This is probably the siphon effect."

"Siphon? Siphon er guo tou?"

"It seems this lake really is connected to an underground river. There might be another, larger lake connected to it. Influenced by tides or air pressure, this lake gets pulled along. For example, imagine the small lake and the big lake are both magnets. If the siphon effect is triggered by the moon's gravity, then the moon is also a big magnet—it would pull harder on the big lake, creating a pressure difference. Water from the small lake gets sucked into the big lake, so the small lake's water level drops." I looked up at the sky and suddenly realized something.

No wonder we couldn't find any trace of bodies. If there was a siphon effect here, with siphon tides every night, then the bodies from back then would have been sucked to the center of the lake by the siphon—just like how a flush toilet works.

Not just bodies—everything in the lake would be pulled to the center. That's why I noticed there was nothing on the shore except rocks.

The lake's bottom had a very steep drop-off. Once something slid down, it wouldn't be pushed back when the tide rose. If nothing had been weighed down with stones back then, it would definitely have ended up at the deepest part in the center.

This thought depressed me a little. I didn't know how deep the lake was. We hadn't brought scuba gear. If the lake was too deep, then this trip might be for nothing.

But then I perked up again. Free divers can reach over a hundred meters. We didn't have that kind of professional skill, but it shouldn't be a problem to dive twenty or thirty meters. As long as the lake wasn't absurdly deep, we could still try going in to search—we'd just need someone who was a good swimmer.

It wasn't easy getting here once; we had to try no matter what. Swimming to the middle of the lake wasn't that hard.

Considering that, I asked them, "How long can you all hold your breath?"