Chapter 52: What an extraordinary surprise

Future

“I can’t hear what you’re saying,” the robotic voice of the translation software said from his earpiece. “But we can work together to solve this puzzle. Don’t disobey me. I want you to live more than anyone else does—after all, I have a lot of money riding on you.”

Zhou Luoyang surmised that his handler could see the objects in the room through the cameras, which meant that previously, he could see the keys hanging on the wall that had been blocked from Zhou Luoyang’s own view.

But now that they’d arrived in the second room, what the handlers could see of the room from the cameras was not much different from what the players saw. They wouldn’t be getting any more useful clues.

This would be an interesting competition—that is, if we don’t wind up dying because of it, Zhou Luoyang thought.

With the complexity of the competitors’ identities and their distrust towards one another, it was as if the Tower of Babel stood between them. Each challenge involved mechanisms designed with meticulous care and foresight to rouse suspicion between the competitors. To complicate matters further, behind each competitor was a handler pulling the strings. 

However, there was no guarantee that a player would follow their handler’s orders. There was also no way for a player to speak directly to their handler.

If the players’ mics cut out, the handlers would have to rely on the video feeds to determine if they had loyally carried out their commands.

But the mics were indeed present, and Zhou Luoyang was certain there was another device hidden in the shadows, one that was recording and transmitting their every word and action to Hong Hou’s team.

Each handler could penalize their player up to three times. Once these penalties were used up, the player would be either electrocuted to death or perhaps simply removed from the competition. Handlers therefore had to carefully consider how to compel their players to listen rather than risk their electrocution too early in the game.

But the handlers’ orders were not always judicious. Sometimes, the players would have to use their own judgment: this was what made it a game. 

Treachery and scheming abound, from the mundane to the monumental—between one player and the next, between players and the escape room, between players and their handlers…Zhou Luoyang wondered what Leyao would think if he knew Zhou Luoyang had entered a competition like this.

He hoped Du Jing was adequately prepared. Zhou Luoyang didn’t want anyone to die. If everyone survived and passed the final gauntlet together, what would happen then? 

It would be tough and immensely challenging to achieve such an outcome.

“Groot?” Zhou Luoyang asked uneasily. “What’s the situation?”

“Why won’t you get closer?” the handler demanded from his earpiece.

Zhou Luoyang stayed still. He was reluctant to go along with his handler’s orders. He remained about five meters away from the statue, watching Du Jing closely. 

The gold statue of the monkey god Hanuman, with its face half in shadow, lent itself to an unsettling atmosphere.

“The monkey god’s tail moves,” Lu Zhongyu announced. 

“Let’s try it.” Together, Xiao Wu and Lu Zhongyu pushed at Hanuman’s tail. The pedestal rumbled. The monkey god began revolving to face the center of the room, then kept turning until it had made a full revolution and returned to the same position it started in.

Du Jing peered up at the monkey god’s face. Lu Zhongyu flicked open the Swiss Army knife he was allotted and pried Hanuman’s tail from its body.

“Don’t use brute force to solve puzzles,” Kun chided. “If we break anything, we’ll get shocked.”

There was no doubt this piece of information had come from his earpiece. Du Jing, Kun, Lu Zhongyu, Xiao Wu, and De’an encircled the statue. Zhou Luoyang and Ruan Song were the only ones standing to the side.

Zhou Luoyang glanced over at Ruan Song, who quickly looked away. 

“Look at its eyes, or its weapon, or elsewhere,” his handler said.

This handler had some experience, it seemed.

“Let me have a look.” Zhou Luoyang finally approached the statue, studying it carefully. The monkey god’s eyes were fixed on the wall across from it. 

He turned to look at the wall. Nothing noteworthy about it.

“What if you turn it?” the handler suggested.

“Turn it again?” Zhou Luoyang said.

The group looked at Zhou Luoyang. Lu Zhongyu spun the monkey god’s tail once. Then, Xiao Wu blurted, “Wait.”

Xiao Wu pressed a hand to his earpiece, deliberating. “I feel like the monkey god’s eyes are glowing.”

“What is this?” Kun asked. “It looks like a drain.”

Kun pointed at the back of the statue, and the group moved to look. Behind the raised tail of the monkey god, they saw a small hole for collecting water.

Du Jing moved closer to inspect the statue and noticed that within Hanuman’s gemstone eyes—one red, one green—there seemed to be holes. He made for the brazier.

“It’s really hot,” Zhou Luoyang warned.

Du Jing waved his worries away and bent, pushing the brazier. It didn’t budge.

“Use this.” Kun produced a glass bottle with a screw-on lid. Removing the lid, he approached the brazier. Burning kerosene pooled at the bottom.

“It’ll explode,” Lu Zhongyu cautioned.

“It should be heat resistant,” Kun assured.

“Let’s try it. Careful not to drop it,” said Xiao Wu.

Together, Xiao Wu and Du Jing gently tipped the brazier so the kerosene slowly poured into the glass bottle. The fire was still burning, and Zhou Luoyang said, “That’s enough! It’s about to spill!”

The kerosene soon dripped onto the floor, but the puddle was small enough that it would burn out on its own in no time. They poured the rest of the kerosene into Hanuman’s tail. and lit it up. Flames immediately leapt into the air, shrouding the monkey god’s body and releasing a thick cloud of smoke. 

Du Jing took off his blazer, covered Zhou Luoyang’s mouth and nose with it, and nudged him away from the smoke.

The fire blazed behind the monkey god, its brilliance emanating through the monkey god’s eyes and casting twin beams of light on the wall. 

“There’s nothing there,” Ruan Song finally spoke.

“Rotate it once more, slowly,” Zhou Luoyang said, following his handler’s instruction.

The group once again rotated the monkey god’s statue. The beams of light swept past across the wall. When they shone in the northeastern direction, they fell upon a tiny window in the wall, which reflected light back at them. The window was built into the wall and was the exact same color. It was only clearly visible when reflecting light.

“What’s inside?” The group began studying the tiny glass window. 

“Can’t see,” Du Jing said. “It’s a one-way glass.”

Everyone felt the glass, clueless as to how to get it to open. They had solved the first riddle, but now they were stuck once again.

The archaeologist De’an suddenly stood. “Should I use brute force to solve this riddle?”

Du Jing had scarcely spoken since Zhou Luoyang had been shocked. Zhou Luoyang was worried that he was having an episode now, but he didn’t want to say too much. 

“You’ll get shocked if you use force,” Lu Zhongyu warned. 

“That’s fine,” De’an said. “I haven’t been shocked yet. I don’t mind joining the club.”

Zhou Luoyang’s handler suddenly said, “Keep your distance.” 

Just then, Du Jing stood and slipped on his brass knuckles, wrapping his blazer around his fist. Zhou Luoyang grabbed him. He’d decided to listen to his handler in this instance.

But someone would want to take a stab at it eventually. The archaeologist, De’an, said, “Give me the weapon. I’ll do it.”

Du Jing looked at De’an before handing it over. 

“Make way, everyone,” De’an said. Once the rest of the group backed up a little, he smashed his fist through the small glass window. The glass shattered inward, shards flying everywhere. 

“Heh.” De’an tested out the brass knuckles again. “This is sweet.”

Du Jing watched De’an. Finally, De’an handed back the brass knuckles and reached into the nook behind the shattered window. “There should be a key in here…Ow!”

Just when everyone lowered their guard— 

De’an suddenly let out a yell. Everyone else erupted into shouts as they watched him drag a snake through the window!

The snake’s teeth were sunk into the back of his hand. In a split second, it coiled itself around his right arm. Zhou Luoyang immediately moved to help him, but Kun yelled, “Bring him to the fire! Careful not to get splashed!”

Zhou Luoyang immediately brought De’an to the brazier, where the fire scorched the snake, and it fell into the kerosene. In a flash, it hurled itself out and onto the ground, where it writhed, still aflame. 

The snake had burned to death, but De’an had already been bitten. 

He was rapidly taking on a deathlike pallor. Zhou Luoyang bit the hem of his shirt between his teeth and ripped off a strip of fabric, which he quickly tied around De’an’s wrist to stop the flow of blood.

“Try squeezing it,” Xiao Wu said anxiously.

De’an began to suck on the back of his hand and spit out the venom-laced blood.

Zhou Luoyang’s handler spoke through his earpiece. “He’s done for. Ignore him. Go look in the nook.”

Suddenly, Du Jing asked, “What did you find behind the window?”

“Nothing…Just this snake!” De’an replied.

“I’m asking you,” Du Jing said coolly. “Priest.”

Immediately, everyone turned to look at Ruan Song, who was standing off to the side. Zhou Luoyang now understood–in the chaos of De’an’s poisoning, Ruan Song had taken the opportunity to feel inside the nook behind the window.

“This.” Ruan Song drew his hand from his pocket and uncurled his fist, revealing a brass key.

“Look for the keyhole,” Lu Zhongyu ordered. “Let’s find somewhere for De’an to rest.”

“How are you?” Zhou Luoyang asked De’an anxiously. 

De’an shook his head. Sweat glistened on his forehead. The snake was dead; they hadn’t even gotten the chance to ascertain what type of snake it was, let alone whether it was venomous. But in a place like this, the chances that there was an antidote laying around were slim to none. 

“Can you look after him?” the professor, Xiao Wu, asked Zhou Luoyang.

“I can,” Zhou Luoyang responded. “I won’t be of much help anyway. Leave it to me.”

De’an gritted out, “I’m fine, I’m fine…Maybe that snake wasn’t venomous at all. See, my blood’s red.”

He continued to suck at his hand, spitting out crimson blood. Zhou Luoyang couldn’t be sure either; all he could do was help him stand up. 

Du Jing found the keyhole in no time. 

“Come here,” he told Ruan Song.

Du Jing motioned for Ruan Song to insert the key into the keyhole. The second stone door swung open. 

“In here,” Du Jing ordered curtly. 

Zhou Luoyang slung De’an’s arm around his shoulder and walked him through the stone door. Before leaving, Lu Zhongyu deliberately felt around inside the window again, confirming that there were no stragglers left inside.

Behind the second door was a winding corridor. De’an said, “I can walk on my own.” 

An oddly arranged room appeared before them. Upon opening the door, they found a pedestal to one side. The rest of the space consisted of a simple lounge area, inside of which was a long table and seven chairs. A Vietnamese baguette rested atop some napkins in the middle of the table.

“You may rest here for two hours,” the handler said. “Regain your strength.”

Zhou Luoyang released a breath. So the handlers needed rest, too. According to Du Jing’s watch, it was already 4:00 PM. 

“How are you feeling?” Zhou Luoyang watched De’an anxiously. 

De’an nodded weakly. “Let me sit down for a moment. I’ll feel better in a little bit.”

His breathing had gotten heavier, while his face had gone pale. Everyone watched him, yet no one spoke.

A shower curtain hung in the room. Lu Zhongyu pulled it aside to see behind it. A toilet.

Just then, an announcement was broadcast in English from one corner of the room. “Competitors, please remove your earpieces and place them on the pedestal by the entrance to charge.”

Zhou Luoyang took out his and De’an’s earpieces. The players shuffled forward and, one by one, they placed their earpieces on the pedestal. Once all the earpieces were slotted into place on the pedestal, Hong Hou’s voice boomed out.

“What an extraordinary surprise,” Hong Hou declared. “It seems Chinese people possess magnificent teamwork. To have completed the second challenge with all players still alive! It seems that this season’s competition will be very interesting indeed.”

No one spoke. Zhou Luoyang raised his head, studying the four corners of the room, but he was unable to spot any cameras.

“Here, you may relax to your heart’s desire,” Hong Hou continued. “When the two hours are up, the safe room’s lights will go out. At that time, you will retrieve your earpieces and be on your way. Do not worry—there are no cameras in this safe room. You may speak freely, and I will not eavesdrop. Trust that your big brother is true to his word.”

Under the fluorescent lighting, the players each took a seat, weary. They considered the baguette on the table, yet none touched it. 

“Should we eat?” Xiao Wu glanced at the botanist, Kun.

Kun shook his head. He removed his scholar’s cap and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, “but I am parched.”

Zhou Luoyang was faring better than the last time. He knew that things would be tense in the escape room, that they would sweat constantly and require more water than usual. 

“There’s no water.” He had already checked. The safe room had food, but lacked water. This must be intentional, he reasoned. It was possible that they would soon be pitted against each other in a fight for water.

“Let’s rest for a bit,” Lu Zhongyu suggested. “We can just bring the bread with us when we leave.”

Du Jing was noticeably quieter than usual today. Lu Zhongyu had picked up on this and glanced over at him now. “Groot, are you not feeling well?” 

“He doesn’t like to be in enclosed spaces,” Zhou Luoyang answered for Du Jing. “He’ll be fine in a minute.”

Du Jing took a deep breath and said, “I’m alright.”

“You two have met?” the professor, Xiao Wu, finally asked.

They sat around the table. This was the first time they were able to have a proper conversation, free from the threat of penalty. 

We’ve more than just met. Du Jing and I came because of you, Zhou Luoyang thought. 

Kun turned and said, “This is a safe room. There are no cameras.”

“But I imagine there are still mics. We can’t trust them,” Xiao Wu cautioned.

“It’s fine. The two of us are in the same boat as each of you here.”

Du Jing had finally begun to talk. His fingers drummed the table to a steady rhythm. “Now listen closely. I’ll only say this once.”

Zhou Luoyang could suddenly tell something was different. Kun, Xiao Wu, Ruan Song, De’an, and Lu Zhongyu’s faces were simultaneously set with seriousness as they looked at Du Jing.

“I will try my absolute hardest to ensure that each of you survive,” Du Jing told them.

What was going on? Was Du Jing’s earlier reticence an act? Why was he back to normal as soon as he’d entered the safe room? Zhou Luoyang quickly glanced at him. Du Jing made a simple gesture, asking him to not say anything. 

“Who are you?” Xiao Wu asked doubtfully. 

But Lu Zhongyu seemed to understand. “Alright, I’ll listen to you from now on.”

“Don’t interrupt me.” Du Jing looked down at his watch. “We don’t have much time. But if not everyone can come out of this alive, my top priority will be ensuring that the two of us survive.”

At this, Du Jing pointed at Zhou Luoyang to make his stance clear.

No one spoke. Du Jing continued, “But as long as you make it past the final challenge and board the car home, I can make sure you will all survive.”

“But at that point, you’ve already won, so of course you’ll live. That’s absolute nonsense,” Ruan Song bluntly interjected.

“Do you really believe that? Do you really think they’ll let you go now that you’ve participated in this competition and know their location?” Zhou Luoyang retorted.

“Why did you show up here?” Lu Zhongyu asked Ruan Song.

Zhou Luoyang started to feel puzzled. Did Lu Zhongyu really know Ruan Song’s true identity? After he and Ruan Song had arrived in Vietnam, Lu Zhongyu had been captured while leaving a tourist destination. He likely didn’t know what Ruan Song had become following his capture. Any normal person would assume Ruan Song was a victim here, too.

But Lu Zhongyu seemed sharper than he’d thought. 

Kun looked at Lu Zhongyu and asked, somewhat exasperatedly, “And what’s the relationship between you two?”

“I don’t know him,” said Ruan Song.

The dining room settled into silence once more. Xiao Wu glanced at Zhou Luoyang and Du Jing, then at Lu Zhongyu and Ruan Song. 

At this time, De’an’s breathing grew even more ragged. “Is there any water?”

“None,” Zhou Luoyang murmured. “Hold on a bit. We might be able to find some water after we get out of this safe room.”

“Should we head out early?” Du Jing asked the rest of the players. 

“I’d like to rest a bit longer,” Xiao Wu said, exhausted. “I can’t keep up, physically.”

It was now 4:30 PM. They had been on the move for six hours continuously, and from the looks of it, the remaining challenges would probably take some time. 

“Do you need to use the restroom?” Zhou Luoyang suddenly thought of something. “There might be water in the toilet. Let me check.”

Zhou Luoyang checked inside the toilet, but found that it had a vacuum flush system. This meant there were no sewage pipes underground, so Zhou Luoyang had to give up the search.

Du Jing propped his feet up on the table and stared at the lights on the ceiling. 

Behind the curtain, De’an was partially slumped against the toilet, uncaring of where he was anymore. His feet slumped against the floor. In a quiet voice, he asked Zhou Luoyang, “What’s…what’s your name? Are you…Chinese?”

“I am,” Zhou Luoyang said, kneeling next to him to hear. “I am.”

“Where are you from?” De’an’s voice was feeble. “I have a favor to ask you.”

Zhou Luoyang was sure now that De’an had indeed been poisoned, and quite severely, too.

“Don’t talk,” Zhou Luoyang said. “You’ll get better.”

Zhou Luoyang pressed a hand to his forehead. “Groot!”

“Hm?” Du Jing responded from beyond the curtain. 

“He’s burning up,” Zhou Luoyang said. “De’an’s feverish.”

“Take…this,” De’an said. “Leave me behind.”

De’an pulled out a black leather-bound notebook. Zhou Luoyang flipped through it. Most of it was blank, but musical staffs had been drawn on the first ten pages and filled with musical notes. 

“If you get out of here alive…” De’an croaked, “tell my sister, she…”

“How old are you?” Zhou Luoyang asked.

“Twenty-two,” De’an said weakly. “I just quit my job, and I’m not really in contact with my family anymore…I studied computer science. I…got into gambling. It was a bad habit. I lost a lot of my family’s money. Later, I came to Myanmar…”

“This is Cambodia,” Zhou Luoyang reminded him.

“Cambodia?” De’an smiled. “Oh, we’re in Cambodia now…I didn’t know.”

De’an had clearly been kidnapped too. He continued, “My real name is Jiang Yupeng.

“I…wanted to win some money. I won two million, but on my last trip, when I was going to wash my hands of it all, the casino detained me. Tell my sister…I know she deserved better. Do you have a pen? If you do…I’ll give you a phone number. Can you memorize it?”

“Du Jing!” Zhou Luoyang finally called.

Du Jing pulled aside the curtain to see De’an’s sallow complexion, his heaving breaths. He knelt down, peeling back one of De’an’s eyelids to inspect his pupil. 

De’an suddenly grabbed Zhou Luoyang by the wrist. “It’s easy to r-remember. Whatever you do, don’t forget…”

The hand that had been bitten by the snake was now swollen and purple. He rattled off a phone number.

“I have it memorized,” Du Jing said calmly. Then, he turned around and stepped out.

De’an nodded tiredly and smiled.

All Zhou Luoyang could do was to comfort him. “Rest now. It’s alright.”

“Luoyang, come out here,” Du Jing said from outside.

When Zhou Luoyang exited, Lu Zhongyu was using his Swiss Army knife to split the bread between them. “One share per person. Eat it when you get hungry.”

Each player received their chunk of bread. Ruan Song studied his expressionlessly. Lu Zhongyu handed De’an’s share to Zhou Luoyang. “This is for the archaeologist. Hold onto it for him.”

Zhou Luoyang released a weary breath and slumped onto the tabletop. Du Jing glanced at his watch. An hour had passed already. They were thirsty and tired, and the crux of the matter was that they had no water. As such, they talked sparingly in order to conserve energy.

“He’s tricking you,” Ruan Song suddenly said.

“Who?” Xiao Wu asked, alarmed.

“Du Jing.” Ruan Song had finally spoken Du Jing’s name. “Your name is Du Jing, correct?”

Du Jing put on his brass knuckles and didn’t answer.

“Little priest, I don’t understand what we’ve done to offend you,” said Zhou Luoyang.

“You didn’t do anything,” said Ruan Song. “They very clearly explained that in order to survive in this game, you have to plot to kill off the other players.”

Lu Zhongyu said nothing, but his eyes were trained on Ruan Song.

Xiao Wu, too, said nothing. 

“That’s correct,” Kun confirmed. “My handler told me the same thing.”

“If I were an audience member, I definitely wouldn’t want to watch the competitors work together in peace and harmony to make it to the end,” Ruan Song pointed out. 

“Of course,” Du Jing said carelessly, “it’s only fun if we’re out to kill each other, right?”

“Which is why those two are forming a team,” Ruan Song forged onward, ignoring Du Jing. “He’s just trying to obtain our trust so that we’ll do as they say.”

But just as he finished, Du Jing whipped around and socked him in the cheek. 

“Don’t hit people!” Xiao Wu yelped.

Kun shot to his feet and admonished, “If you have something to say, say it! Don’t get fucking physical!” 

“Don’t hit people,” Lu Zhongyu echoed leisurely, remaining seated. “He’s no match for you. That punch was more than enough.” 

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Translated by beansprout. Edited by opal.

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a little update to celebrate feitian’s new novel! ❤

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