Revolving lantern, back to zero

The mental health center is located at the northern end of the city.

Lin Shen parked the car across the street, leaving the engine running. At 4:30 AM, the sky was still a deep, dark blue, and the streetlights cast a stark white glow on the building. The six-story building, with its gray cement walls and security bars on all the windows, resembled a prison.

Xiao Chen was scrolling through his phone in the passenger seat, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

"Captain, I checked Sister Su Wan's records. Since she was suspended, she has come here at least seventeen times. Every time it was late at night, and every time she was alone."

"Whom are you visiting?"

"There's no record." Xiao Chen looked up. "The system can't find who she met. Either she used a fake identity, or someone helped her erase the traces."

Lin Shen didn't speak. He remembered the key Su Wan had given him—the key to locker number 317. She said Lao Zhou had asked her to give it to him. But Lao Zhou also said that the things in locker number 317 were things he "should have seen."

He took the key out of his pocket and examined it closely in the car's interior light. The key was old, with a layer of dark green rust on its bronze surface, but the teeth marks were clear, indicating it hadn't been abandoned for a long time. The "317" on the label was handwritten in black marker, the handwriting messy but forceful, with an unnatural pause at the end of each stroke.

The shape of that dot is exactly the same as his own habit when writing the number "7".

Lin Shen put the keys away and opened the car door.

"Wait in the car," he told Xiao Chen.

"team leader--"

"You can't get in." Lin Shen looked at the building. "This place doesn't welcome police. Especially not police wearing badges."

Xiao Chen opened his mouth, but ultimately didn't refute. Lin Shen was right. In a place like a mental health center, at 4:30 in the morning, if a uniformed policeman knocked on the door, no one would open it; someone would just call the police.

Lin Shen took off his police uniform jacket and threw it on the seat, wearing only a black long-sleeved T-shirt, and crossed the road.

The main gate was closed, but the side iron gate was ajar, leaving a gap just wide enough for someone to squeeze through. There was no dust around the edge of the gap, indicating that people frequently used this area.

He squeezed in sideways.

The courtyard was quiet, save for the whistling of the wind through the corridor. The glass doors of the main building were closed, and it was pitch black inside. Lin Shen didn't go through the main entrance; instead, he went around to the side of the building and found a window with a light on.

The window leads to the guardhouse. A security guard in his fifties sits in a chair, nodding off. The television is on, the volume turned down to the lowest setting, showing the midnight news.

Lin Shen knocked on the window.

The security guard was jolted awake, saw the dark figure outside the window, and his hand had already reached for the baton on the table. But when he saw Lin Shen's face clearly, his hand stopped.

"Team Leader Lin?"

Lin Shen recognized the face. Old Wu, a retired auxiliary police officer from the municipal bureau, had come here to work as a security guard three years ago.

"Old Wu, open the door."

Old Wu hesitated for two seconds, then stood up and opened the side door. When Lin Shen went in, Old Wu's gaze lingered on him for a moment—no police uniform, 4:30 in the morning, alone at the mental hospital.

"Captain Lin, you're not here to investigate a case, are you?" Old Wu's voice was low. "You wouldn't come alone to investigate a case, you wouldn't come at this time, and you certainly wouldn't come wearing a T-shirt."

"I'm here to see someone," Lin Shen said. "Su Wan. Did she come by tonight?"

Old Wu's expression changed. It wasn't surprise, but a helpless "I knew it" attitude. He sighed and said, "She came. A little over two hours ago. She comes every few days, always around this time."

"Who is she here to see?"

Old Wu didn't answer immediately. He walked back to the duty room, took out a register from the drawer, turned to today's date, and handed it to Lin Shen.

The registration form contains only one entry, dated 2:03 AM. Visitor Name: Su Wan. Person Visited: Shen Ruo. Relationship: Friend.

Shen Ruo.

Lin Shen closed the register. "Which floor is Shen Ruo on?"

"Basement level two," Old Wu's voice lowered further, "Ward B7. But that floor isn't under my jurisdiction; I don't have the key. Only two people in the entire building have the key to basement level two—the hospital director, and someone I've never met before."

"How did Su Wan get in?"

Old Wu remained silent for a long time. Suddenly, the wind outside picked up, rattling the windows. He finally spoke: "Team Leader Lin, I've worked here for three years and seen many things I shouldn't have. But I didn't ask because I didn't want to lose my job. You asked me how Su Wan got in, and I can tell you—I don't know. But every time she came, that person I'd never seen before would appear in the corridor and take her downstairs. Then that person would disappear, as if they'd never been there."

"What does that person look like?"

"I never saw him clearly." Old Wu shook his head. "He never stands in the light. He always stands in the shadows at the end of the corridor. I can only see his outline—" He paused, looking at Lin Shen, "that outline looks a lot like yours."

Lin Shen felt a chill run down the back of his neck.

"Old Wu, open the door to the second basement level."

"I don't have the key—"

"You have it." Lin Shen stared into his eyes. "It's not that you don't have the key, it's that you're afraid to use it. When Su Wan went in, you saw how she got in. You also saw where that person's key was kept."

Old Wu's face turned pale instantly. He opened his mouth, wanting to deny it, but Lin Shen's gaze made him swallow all the lies.

After a long silence, Old Wu finally stood up, walked to a metal cabinet in the corner, took a key from his pocket, and opened the cabinet door. There was nothing inside, only an envelope.

He handed the envelope to Lin Shen.

Lin Shen opened the envelope; inside was a key. It was black, not metal, but seemed to be some kind of carbon fiber material, and felt cool to the touch. There were no labels on the key, but a number was engraved on the handle: B7.

"This was left by that person when he first came here." Old Wu's voice trembled. "He said that one day someone would come looking for this key. He said that person would be wearing black clothes, without a police badge, and would come at dawn. He said that person would ask about Su Wan, about Shen Ruo, about the second basement level. He said that when that time came, give him this key."

"What else did he say?"

Old Wu took a deep breath: "He said, tell that person—the second key isn't on Su Wan, it's on Shen Ruo. Su Wan is just the one who led the way."

Lin Shen gripped the black key, his fingers tightening. The first key was in locker 317, the second was here, and the third was on him. With all three, he could open the door.

"What else did that person say?"

Old Wu shook his head: "That's all. That's all he said. Then he left. From then on, every time Su Wan came, he would appear, take her downstairs, and then disappear. I've never spoken to him, and he's never looked at me again."

Lin Shen put the key in his pocket and turned to walk deeper into the corridor.

"Team Leader Lin," Old Wu called from behind, "Are you really going to the second basement level?"

"Don't you want to know who that person is?" Lin Shen didn't turn around.

Old Wu did not answer.

The corridor was long, and most of the motion-activated lights were broken. With each step Lin Shen took, one light would turn on and off, as if he were being chased by something. His shadow on the wall flickered, sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes bright, sometimes dim.

The stairwell is at the end of the corridor. The words "Basement Level 1" and "Basement Level 2" are written in red paint on the wall, but the sign for Basement Level 2 has been painted over with black paint, leaving only an irregular black patch, like a stitched-up wound.

The staircase extends downwards, and there are no lights.

Lin Shen turned on his phone's flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness and illuminating the dusty steps. There were fresh footprints on the steps—not just one person, but at least two or three. The footprints varied in size, but the patterns were similar, all made of the same type of sole.

Combat boots.

She was wearing the same clothes as him.

Lin Shen gripped the flashlight tightly and descended step by step. The air grew colder, water stains began to appear on the walls, and a musty smell mixed with the odor of disinfectant filled his nostrils. He soon reached the basement level. As he passed the door, a faint blue light shone through the crack, like the flashing indicator light of some kind of instrument.

He didn't stop, he continued downwards.

Basement level 2.

At the end of the stairs was an iron door, without a handle or keyhole, only a small electronic screen embedded in the wall. The screen was black, like a dead eye.

Lin Shen took out the black key and looked around the door, but couldn't find anywhere to insert it.

He examined the key closely—it wasn't an ordinary key; it had no serrations, a smooth surface, like a black card. The "B7" engraved on the key handle wasn't just a serial number; it might also be a password.

He tried typing B7 on the electronic screen.

The screen lit up.

It's not a number, it's not text, it's a fingerprint scan pattern.

Lin Shen hesitated for a second before pressing his thumb on.

The screen flickered and then turned green. A click came from inside the iron gate; the lock had opened.

The door slowly opened inwards without a sound, like a silent mouth.

Inside was an even narrower corridor with closed metal doors on both sides, each only marked with a number, and no windows. B1, B2, B3… all the way to the end of the corridor. The last door at the end of the corridor was numbered B7.

Lin Shen walked over, his footsteps echoing hollowly on the metal floor. He reached the door of B7, which had no keyhole, only a handprint-shaped indentation.

He pressed his palm on it.

The door opened.

The room wasn't big, about twenty square meters. The walls were white, the lighting was a stark white, and everything was white: a white bed, white cabinets, and a white floor. A person was lying on the bed.

a woman.

She looked very young, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old. Her long black hair was spread out on the white pillow, like ink dripping into milk. Her face was very white, not pale, but a bloodless, transparent white. Her eyes were closed, her lips were slightly parted, and her breathing was shallow, so shallow that the rise and fall of her chest was almost invisible.

Shen Ruo.

Lin Shen walked to the bedside and looked down at her. This was Lu Ming's missing girlfriend, the source of the black rose tattoo, the "end of all clues" that Lao Zhou had mentioned.

She had a tattoo on her right wrist. A black snake coiled around a rose. Exactly the same as in the photograph, exactly the same as the tattoo on the wrist of the murderer in the warehouse.

But Lin Shen noticed a detail—in the photo, the snake's forked tongue was placed on the edge of a flower petal. But on Shen Ruo's wrist, the snake's forked tongue pointed not to a flower petal, but to the inside of her wrist, directly opposite her pulse.

It's like giving directions.

He reached out and gently opened Shen Ruo's palm. There were words on her palm—not a tattoo, but written with a ballpoint pen. The writing was faint, as if it had been written a long time ago, worn almost illegible by sweat and time.

Lin Shen leaned closer to take a look.

"sorry."

These three words again. Exactly the same three words that automatically appeared in the memo on the second floor of the warehouse.

Lin Shen straightened up, all the clues in his mind scattered like overturned puzzle pieces. Cabinet 317, Lu Ming's file, the black rose tattoo, his other self, Su Wan, Lao Zhou, Shen Ruo, Ward B7—every piece of the puzzle was there, but he didn't know how to put it back together.

He stood by Shen Ruo's bedside, looking at the sleeping woman, and suddenly thought of Lu Ming. Three years ago, before Lu Ming disappeared, he had also stood here, looking at the same woman, thinking about the same questions: Who is she? Why is she here? Why is the tattoo on her hand on the murderer's body?

My phone vibrated.

Unknown number:

"You've found the second key. But you don't know how to use it yet. The third key is with you, but you can't see it because you've been using it all along. The carousel isn't the door, it's the key. You are the door."

"—Another You"

After reading the message, Lin Shen suddenly looked up.

The lights in the room flickered suddenly.

Shen Ruo opened her eyes.

It didn't open slowly, but suddenly, instantly, as if a switch had been flipped open; the eyelids sprang open, revealing the eyes beneath. Those eyes were black, not dark brown, not dark gray, but a complete black that didn't reflect any light.

Like the petals of that black rose.

Lin Shen subconsciously took a step back.

Shen Ruo's eyes didn't move, didn't focus, didn't blink; they just stared straight at the ceiling, like two black glass beads. But her lips were moving.

She is speaking.

There was no sound, only her lips moving. Lin Shen leaned down, close to her face, trying to read her lips.

"Don't...trust...anyone."

Then her lips stopped. Her eyes were still open, but her pupils began to dilate, as if something was being drained from her body. The waveform on the electrocardiogram monitor began to become unstable, and a beeping alarm sounded.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Many footsteps, approaching from afar, surged like a tide.

Lin Shen turned and rushed to the door. The lights at the end of the corridor were already on, and the beams of flashlights were swaying. Someone was coming downstairs.

At least five people.

He glanced back at Shen Ruo—her eyes were still open, but they had lost all their light, like two abandoned windows, staring blankly into the void.

Lin Shen was out of time. He left room B7, and the door closed automatically behind him, locking with a click.

He ran to the other end of the corridor—there was a door with a sign that read "Emergency Exit," but no handle, only a metal bar. He forced the door open, and outside was a narrow fire escape with a spiral iron ladder leading up.

He heard the sound of the door to ward B7 being opened behind him, and someone shouted something, but he didn't hear it, nor did he need to.

He started running uphill.

The iron ladder vibrated violently beneath his feet, the rusted screws emitting a screeching sound. He ran through the basement, the first floor, the second floor, all the way to the third floor, where the fire escape ended, blocked by a locked iron door.

Lin Shen raised his foot and kicked it away.

A cold wind blew in from outside. He climbed over the railing, jumped onto the fire platform on the third floor, and then slid down the drainpipe to the ground.

The moment he landed, a sharp pain shot through his knee, but he didn't stop. He ran across the yard, squeezed through the side gate, crossed the road, opened the car door, and got into the driver's seat.

"Captain—" Xiao Chen was startled by his appearance.

"Drive." Lin Shen's voice was steady, but his heart was beating more than 140 times per minute.

Without asking any further questions, Xiao Chen climbed from the passenger seat to the driver's seat and started the engine. As the car sped off, Lin Shen saw lights on in the main building of the mental health center in the rearview mirror, and shadowy figures moving in the windows on the third floor.

He reclined the chair, lay on his back, and closed his eyes.

My mind was filled with Shen Ruo's eyes. Those black eyes without pupils, like two abysses.

And her lip reading: Don't trust anyone.

His phone vibrated again. He thought it was another unknown number, but this time it was Xiao Chen's phone.

Xiao Chen glanced at the screen, and his expression changed.

"Captain, it's a call from the bureau." He handed the phone to Lin Shen. "They said they found a body in the industrial area."

Lin Shen answered the phone.

"Team Leader Lin?" The voice on the other end of the phone belonged to the on-duty police officer. "We found a body in an abandoned warehouse in the North City Industrial Zone. Male, unidentified, cause of death: throat slit with a sharp weapon. But there's something strange—"

"What?"

"The deceased had an old scar on the web of his right hand, in the same location as a scar he sustained three years ago while chasing a suspect. Captain Lin, that scar... it's exactly the same as yours."

Lin Shen's hand holding the phone began to tremble.

An abandoned warehouse in an industrial area. A sharp weapon used to slit a throat. An old scar on the web of the right hand.

The person who died in the warehouse was not him.

It's another version of him.

He finally understood why the figure on the second floor of the warehouse had said "I'm sorry".

That wasn't an apology.

That was a farewell.