Daomu Biji Volume 8 Chapter 72

The name that popped up hadn't appeared on my phone for a long time. Just a moment ago, I thought that I wouldn't be surprised no matter whose name jumped out, but this one person made me extremely surprised.

In fact, it wasn't a name, but a t.i.tle.

“Grandpa”!

The name shown on the phone was the number used before my grandfather had died. No one had called since he was buried and I didn't think about it, but unexpectedly the phone hadn't been disconnected.

I paced back and forth in the yard, thinking "d.a.m.n it, this seems really close to the core." I was moving in the right direction, but I still didn't understand what these people were doing.

I thought about it, continued dialing the number, and put the phone to my ear. I didn't know what I would hear, but I was actually looking forward to it, no matter what the sound was.

“Sorry, the number you dialed cannot be reached.”

I put down my phone, thinking that Grandpa's phone must've run out of battery. There may still be some money on it, because Old Dog Wu was very rich in his last days. My Uncle Three gave grandpa a phone card, which could be enough for several years, so there was no reason the phone would be disconnected. However, there probably wasn't anyone to charge the phone itself.

My grandmother isn't the type of person worn out by love. She's lived a very smart life and isn't too sad about my grandfather's death so I didn't want to disturb her now.

This house was rented by grandpa, and it had been rented for nineteen years.

I didn't want to think about the possibility any more. I dialed the landlord's phone again and told him that I had contacted the tenant and would give both their accounts 500 yuan each month. The tenant told me to directly ask the landlord to type up a proof of his previous payment to the intermediary.

The landlord was very enthusiastic and probably knew that he could collect another 500 yuan a month, so he quickly told me his account information. I lit a cigarette, jumped over the wall, asked my staff to find some people who could pry open the door, and at the same time I looked for a friend from the bank to inquire about the account holder that had been paying the rent.

At first, my friend was very hesitant on the phone, but when I said I would give him a good fee and told him that I only needed the account number of the payer, he soon agreed. Soon the account number was sent, and I entered it in an ATM, waiting as the name corresponding to the account popped up.

I stared at the ATM's screen for half a day.

It was my grandfather's name.

Maybe grandpa had used direct deposit.

I went back to the street and almost got hit by a truck when crossing the sidewalk. I ignored all this and went to a cafe to find a place to sit down, finding myself unable to think.

What was going on here? Did grandpa dig that bas.e.m.e.nt?

Grandpa rented a house nearby, dug a bas.e.m.e.nt, and then spied on his son?

Grandpa wasn't so abnormal, right? The impression I had of him since I had basically been born was that he lived in his own world and memories. In his later years, all he had in mind was a cup of tea, a few dogs, and an old woman to hold hands with while walking along the west lake.

Nineteen years ago, however… as I thought of this number, I kept wondering, "What was grandpa like nineteen years ago?"

A lot of fragmentary information flashed through my mind, and I thought of some ambiguous words that my Uncle Two said to me, implying that they didn't know that Uncle Three was a fake.

Nineteen years ago seemed to be the exact time when the fake Uncle Three returned to Hangzhou from Xisha. After he came back, Uncle Two and my grandfather soon discovered something was wrong, but they didn't know what had happened.

At that time, everyone was still quite hush-hush about “it”, especially grandpa, who would definitely think it had something to do with him. And in order to not startle the snake, grandpa dug such a room here to monitor this fake Uncle Three.

It was possible. Very likely, in fact.

Then why did that guy live in that secret room all year round? Did grandpa and his family find a man to watch Uncle Three, someone who would stay there all year and hadn't finished work yet?

This was the most miserable job in the world: the workplace was in the sewer and there was no vacation. If it was a secret chamber built nineteen years ago, then that would be nineteen years spent in darkness, more bitter than being in a small coal mine.

In addition, there was another problem that couldn't be explained. During those nineteen years of surveillance, with grandpa and Uncle Two's drive, had nothing changed? Nineteen years could change a dynasty, so why would they still be monitoring even now? In other words, grandpa and Uncle Two should've quickly discovered the problem and from the hint Uncle Two gave me, there was also this meaning. If they knew that Uncle Three was Jie Lianhuan, then why didn't they take any measures?

Was it possible that by monitoring like this, they thought to learn his intentions? Or did Uncle Two and grandpa have their own plans? What was the plan?

I couldn't figure it out no matter how hard I thought, and I couldn't bear it anymore. I realized that even if Uncle Two was difficult and shrewd, I had to have a showdown with him. I had to know what they were thinking.

Back at Uncle Three's house, I lay on the sofa and pondered.

Based on my previous understandings, scheming against Uncle Two was basically tantamount to death. He saw through a plot without needing the intermediate process. He simply looked at the other party's expression and general remarks, and immediately knew what they were doing secretly behind his back. Besides, what he liked best was to follow the plan you set up. One time when we went to our hometown, Uncle Three came up with a plan to steal something left by our ancestors. Uncle Two pretended to be in the dark the entire time, but in fact, had made various arrangements along the way to ruin it with his own plan. Taking advantage of Uncle Three's plan, he was able to destroy another group's big plot. When Uncle Three thought he had won at last, Uncle Two plucked away all the fruits of victory with a few words.

I wondered if Uncle Two would tell me everything, and if so, under what conditions?

I really couldn't think of any plausible scenarios. Uncle Two was unmoved by force or persuasion, and the only possibility for me to get him to talk was to threaten my own life.

But Uncle Two was a very shrewd person. He knew that I was the kind of person who could never fight with his own life. I think he'd be more likely to simply sit there and drink tea while ignoring me. It's not like I could really kill myself.

I had to make it clear to him that I would really die if he didn't tell me. That is to say, these things were beyond my control and I was being forced to do it.

Should I pretend to be kidnapped? If I cut off my finger and sent it to Uncle Two, would he give in?

I think it would work, but I didn't think Uncle Two would give in immediately. One finger was definitely not enough; Uncle Two's nerves would last at least up to three.

When I came to the kitchen, I looked at my left hand and picked up a kitchen knife, choosing three fingers that didn't seem very usable. I thought it over and suddenly felt that life was particularly good. Why should I?

Would Uncle Two personally take the initiative to come tell me? If he had dug this hole and the person below had escaped, Uncle Two would've known immediately. Would Uncle Two have any emergency measures to implement? Wait a minute, would a directional missile come and blow me sky high?

A long time had pa.s.sed, and nothing happened when I came back. This was f.u.c.king weird, what was the use of such surveillance without any emergency measures?

I thought that everything seemed to point to one direction regarding this matter, but I lacked a key. The only key. In the past, I was too far from the truth and could only see a lot of clues in a straight line that contradicted each other. This time, however, I was too close to the truth, so I saw countless possibilities. In contrast, it was absolutely impossible to pa.r.s.e out the countless possibilities so I found that the former was more humane.

Outwitting Uncle Two.

I picked up the kitchen knife again and put my hand on the chopping board as if this was the only way for me. Although it was a bit stupid, I seemed to have no way out.

A feeling of determination and solemnity surged through my heart. At this time, I realized that I was going crazy and my demons had reached the point where they couldn't be suppressed.

Help me!

I told myself to just chop down quick and hard, but at this moment, the phone I had set aside began to ring.

I was startled, and in an instant, all the momentum was released. I almost collapsed.

Picking up my phone, I paused when I found it was a strange number. When I asked who it was, the other side said: “Put the knife down and look out the window.”

As soon as I heard the voice, I knew it was the man I had heard in the secret room and immediately looked out the window. I saw a beam from a flashlight in a farmer's house in the distance.

I was just wondering what was going on when I heard the person on the phone sigh: “I put the flashlight here, and I left the thing you want to know beside it. After you read it, you'll know what to do."

<> <><>