【Peking Shuangmei】Shell

Chapter 17

There is no light in the dark corridor, but he vaguely understands that it is early morning, and waves of tides beat ashore, like tapping on the hand of a lover in a prison made of rock, non-stop.

Facing the prison facing the vast bay, it is backed by this small island far away from the urban area.

Occasionally, some strange people who have practiced kung fu can jump over the power grid or open a tunnel, escape from the shackles and return to the land of freedom.He had heard such legends that the dug tunnel was filled with salty sea water, and the strange man held his breath with a spoon and dived into the tunnel to dig it deeper and deeper. It is said that it was connected to the nearby bay.Until one night, after sneaking into the tunnel again under the full moon, he never came back.

The prisoners in Area A blew up the pot, and after eating so many batons, they still celebrated this grand event with great excitement, as if he was not the only one who escaped from the prison, and his hands that sliced ​​through the water carried the hearts of the rest of them along the way. The backflowing sea took the souls of all the brothers who had eaten and talked with him in the prison and escaped with them.

This legend was left behind and passed down from generation to generation among prisoners.

The prison guards sealed off the area, and searched for it for more than a month, but there was no result. They had to fill the tunnel with cement.Now he is standing in this dark corridor, as if standing under his feet is the same tunnel back then, not only the waterway itself was sealed by cement, but also a rotting corpse holding a spoon, raised his hand to him, and said ,come over.

He refused to go forward, but in an instant, sandbags were tied to his hands and legs by foreigners, and hemp rope was wrapped around his neck, and someone was buzzing and reading the Bible.

He struggled, his hands and feet tied with sandbags felt like a heavy weight, and the grille under his feet creaked.Amen.

The foreigner said, flipping the wooden switch in the morning light.The grid under the feet is opened, and there is endless darkness.

Fang Mengwei almost rolled off the bed.

He wiped the cold sweat on his forehead and took a deep breath, stumbled and pushed open the bedroom window, just thinking of the cold wind blowing in so that he could escape the nightmare.But the hot summer night is terribly quiet, as dark as that secluded tunnel, like the bottomless abyss under the grille.

He rushed to the bathroom, drenched his head with cold water, and couldn't stop his trembling hands, so he could only pace back and forth on the wooden floor, just wanting to make some noises to drive away this damn ghost.

He spoke aloud, saying listen, listen, Sun Chaozhong has not yet been tried in court, he has not yet been convicted, he is locked in a detention center, not in prison!This dream is simply absurd, it is nonsense!

But it was still the darkest night outside the window, and there was no light at all.

He turned on the light, in the hall and in the room, and as if he suddenly thought of something, he rushed into the kitchen and pulled out the drawer, regardless of the knives inside falling all over the floor.

Grabbing a box of matches, he stepped into the bedroom and lit the little stick with shaking hands.

Kneeling in front of the bedside table, the dim light illuminates the celadon ashtray that has never been removed.

Fang Mengwei's vision was a little blurry, he didn't dare to sleep at night, since Zhao Ruoxi's funeral, he had been haunted by such nightmares repeatedly.

Under the firelight, the pale index and middle fingers finally picked up the half cigarette that was stuck on the small magnetic mouth of the ashtray.

I don't know if Sun Chaozhong often leaned on the bed and looked at the ceiling thinking about him when he was alone at home for more than two months.Maybe half leaning on the bedside, smoking this cigarette, looking forward to his early return home?

He went to the detention center during the day, but he didn't see Sun Chaozhong.The guard told him that Sun Chaozhong was ill and could not see him.Uneasiness and suspicion have taken root in Fang Mengwei's heart since then and flourished.

The match that burned down to only one-third of the stick finally lit the half of the cigarette that had been damp.

Fang Mengwei leaned over and took a deep breath, and in an instant, the smell that filled the entire chest cavity and lungs finally began to calm his overwrought nerves.

He has been afraid of the smell of smoke for decades, which makes him cough when he smells it, but now he likes it.He thought that people will change after all.

The detention center and the prison are indeed separated by a wall, but the infirmary is shared.Sun Chaozhong was kept in a single cell in the detention center, and he also enjoyed this privilege when he was in a coma with a high fever in the infirmary.

It's just that there is not such a strict martial law between the infirmary and the wards, and people from the prison can sneak into the wards.Sun Chaozhong didn't think of this before.

When the fist with the razor blade hit his throat, he only had time to roll over, his left hand was handcuffed to the edge of the bed, and at this moment he was ripped and rattled by his movements.The later memories are all fuzzy, like the outburst of the instinct of a beast. Even though the muscles are sore and the fever continues, the body is finally supported by the survival instinct without stage fright.It wasn't until several guards rushed in hearing the sound and tore Sun Chaozhong away from the man who was already lying on the ground that he couldn't move, that he felt his limbs lose strength, and his eyes turned black intermittently.He turned his head to look at his gray prison clothes, the side of his neck was soaked in blood, and it was terribly red.

The wound was only an inch away from his carotid artery.

His life was almost cut off by that inconspicuous blade thrown in the corner of the ward.The rest of my life.

Sun Chaozhong laughed, he could hardly stop laughing.

The guards had already taken the prisoner out, and now they learned their lesson and locked the ward, leaving only one doctor to treat the wound for him.

Is there a mirror?He heard his hoarse voice ask.

It's not a lady, what kind of mirror do you look at.The thin doctor replied, using an alcohol swab to wipe off the blood on his neck.Probably because the adrenaline hadn't subsided, his hands trembled unceasingly. He reached out to touch his neck, but the doctor pulled his hand away.

I was afraid that Meng Wei would see it.He finally said such a sentence.Afraid that he will be worried if he sees it.The doctor didn't speak.

I'm afraid that he will think about it, but I just haven't explained some things clearly to him.

Sun Chaozhong clenched his fists, but still couldn't stop the trembling.The palms are still sticky, and I don't know if it's blood or the cold sweat that is gradually receding.

I never told him about 48 years, I... he said I was stubborn, and he had a point.I haven't told him yet. Someone came to me last year. I wanted to discuss it with him, but I couldn't open my mouth. How should I say it?If he couldn't say anything, he was afraid that he would eventually find out about Xie Mulan...

Mr. Sun, I can't give you medicine until you sit down.

ok, sorry.Sun Chaozhong's hair drooped and was stuck to his forehead with sweat. He cleared his throat again, and said hoarsely, I have to see him. He was right. I was confused. I couldn't let go. He was alone... This guy likes to think about...

The doctor skillfully broke the neck of a glass vial, and a glass syringe pumped out a few milliliters of liquid.He pushed the syringe against the light, forcing the air bubbles out.

what are you doing?Sun Chaozhong looked at him, leaning on the edge of the bed with vigilance.What's this?Tranquilizer.

I do not need!

Mr. Sun, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it two days after you were in a coma, and it would not be the turn of the one just now.Sun Chaozhong looked at him suspiciously, and was annoyed to find that he still couldn't stop the trembling of his right hand.

You talk too much.Get a good night's sleep, maybe the fever will subside when you wake up tomorrow morning, Brother Heng doesn't have to worry about your situation anymore.