Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

The air in the abandoned ice rink was filled with a smell of rust and years of dust.

Everything here has changed since last night's standoff.

Gu Xidong left.

Or rather, he was "driven away" by Ling Wuwen.

Ling Wuwen did not answer after that fatal question.

She just watched him quietly, then took a crumpled banknote from her pocket and threw it on the dial.

"Go buy some wine."

Her voice was as cold as ice.

"I don't want to smell other women on you."

Gu Xidong stared at her for a long time.

Those eyes, which were always either cloudy or sharp, were now filled with an unfathomable darkness.

He didn't move.

"You think... I went to hide?" he asked in a low voice.

"I thought you were going to die." Ling Wuwen leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and said, "Go ahead, Gu Xidong. If you die, you won't have to deal with this mess."

Gu Xidong's body jolted violently.

He looked at her pale and resolute face, and in the end said nothing.

He picked up the banknote, opened the car door, and walked into the morning mist.

The roar of the engine rose and then gradually faded into the distance.

Ling Wuwen did not open his eyes.

She didn't open her eyes until the sound completely disappeared around the street corner.

Without the slightest hesitation, she leaped out of the car like a cheetah.

She didn't go back to the apartment, but went straight to the pile of clutter.

The rusty iron box that Gu Xidong kicked under the broken mattress.

She dragged it out.

This time, she wasn't just looking through photos.

She held the tin box up to her eyes and scratched at the seam of the lid with her fingernail.

She was looking for a mezzanine.

She's gambling.

Gu Xidong, a person with an extreme lack of security, would hide his most dangerous things in the most conspicuous place.

Her finger stopped at an inconspicuous crease on the bottom of the tin box.

That crease was newer than the others.

She pressed down hard.

"Click".

A soft sound.

A piece of sheet metal at the bottom of the tin box bounced up.

A narrow, hidden compartment appeared before them.

Inside, a miniature cassette tape lay quietly.

Smaller than the palm of your hand.

The black shell had been severely oxidized, turning grayish-white and fragile, like a piece of dead bone.

2

Ling Wuwen's heart suddenly raced.

She carefully picked up the cassette tape.

The touch from my fingertips was rough and cold.

This is the cassette tape used for the miniature camera equipment that Gu Xidong bought back then.

The negative of that "horror movie".

That is the only record of the truth from three years ago.

She clutched it tightly in her hand, as if she were holding a piece of burning coal.

She needs a media player.

A video recorder that can read these old-fashioned micro magnetic tapes.

She rushed into the storage room, which was filled with electronic waste.

I started frantically searching.

She knocked over a pile of old monitors.

She disassembled a machine that looked like a video recorder, only to find it was a radio.

Sweat streamed down her forehead and into her eyes, stinging and burning.

But she didn't care at all.

Her brain was working at lightning speed.

Since Gu Xidong left this iron box, it means he must have seen it back then.

Or perhaps he's been waiting for someone who can understand it.

Then the player must be in these ruins.

It must be somewhere very close to him.

She suddenly raised her head.

She glanced at the old-fashioned broadcasting equipment in the corner, which she had previously overlooked.

That was the equipment used to communicate with the workers when the factory was still in operation.

Among them was a silver, square-shaped audio and video recorder.

It looks like an antique from the last century.

The surface was covered with scratches and dust.

Ling Wuwen rushed over and pushed aside the debris blocking his way.

She grabbed the machine.

Very heavy.

She moved it to the ground and vigorously wiped away the dust from its surface with her sleeve.

Model: Sony PCM-5050.

She recognized the machine.

That was an old relic used by the national team coach to analyze movements for the players.

It is said that it can not only play tapes, but also output video signals synchronously.

Her heart began to pound.

She checked the power cord.

The thread is broken.

Without the slightest hesitation, she took a pair of scissors from her toolbox, cut the end of the thread, and exposed the copper wire inside.

She plugged the copper wire directly into a power strip that was charging a phone next to her.

"Sizzle—!"

A blinding spark.

The indicator light on the power strip flashed twice.

Then, a faint green light actually appeared on the screen of that old-fashioned video recorder.

The machine emitted a "buzzing" electrical sound.

Like the breath of a dying person.

3

Ling Wuwen knelt in front of the machine.

Her hands were trembling.

It's not because I'm afraid.

It was because of excitement.

A chilling excitement that the truth of the world is about to be revealed.

She picked up the oxidized cassette tape.

Looking at that fragile shell, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch.

she knows.

Once the play button is pressed.

Some things can never be regained.

If the tape proves that Gu Xidong is the murderer.

Her revenge will be completely meaningless.

If the tape proves Gu Xidong's innocence.

So, what about her hatred, her pretense, and her pain over the past three years?

It will all become a joke.

She took a deep breath.

The air was filled with the smell of ozone and dust.

She turned around and glanced at the entrance to the ice rink.

The door was closed tightly.

The mist seeped in through the cracks in the door, forming a thin layer of white veil on the ground.

Gu Xidong did not return.

Did he really go to buy alcohol?

Or did he sense something and go to deal with that "black swan" event?

Or perhaps he was simply waiting quietly outside the door.

He waited for her to personally tear open the scar that he had been trying to heal for the past three years.

Ling Wuwen turned around.

Looking at the video recorder that was making a "buzzing" electrical sound.

She gently and carefully inserted the cassette tape into the tape inlet.

The machine emitted a slight vibration.

The magnetic tape was slowly sucked in.

She reached out her hand.

My index finger hovers over the red "play" button.

It trembled slightly.

She closed her eyes.

The night three years ago flashed through my mind.

The lights in the stadium.

Harsh music.

The audience screamed.

And then there was that dull, heavy thud as something fell to the ground.

"Thump."

It was like a heavy hammer blow to her heart.

She suddenly opened her eyes.

There was no hesitation in his eyes.

She pressed the button.

4

"Click."

A soft sound.

The machine started running.

The magnetic tape started spinning.

On the screen, the green light spot began to jump wildly.

Snowflakes, like a blizzard, raged across the screen.

The buzzing sound of electricity became even louder.

It was as if countless wronged souls were howling inside the machine.

Ling Wuwen held his breath and stared intently at the screen.

Amidst the snowflakes, a blurry, shaky image began to appear.

That was a backstage corridor of a stadium.

Familiar walls.

The familiar carpet.

That was... the scene three years ago.

The screen shook violently.

It was clearly filmed while the camera was moving.

The camera was pointed at a door.

A note was pasted on the door: "Players' Lounge".

The camera stopped at the doorway.

I didn't go in.

It seems to be waiting for something.

Just then.

Next to the VCR was an old, long-abandoned television set used for synchronizing the images.

With a "snap".

The screen suddenly lit up.

The snowflakes gathered together instantly.

A clear, black-and-white image appeared on the screen.

That footage was not from a cassette tape.

It comes from... the antenna signal built into the television set.

On the screen was a blurry, shaky black and white image.

That's not a stadium.

It was a... ruin.

It's the abandoned factory where they are now.

In the footage, a familiar figure stands in the center of the ice rink, with his back to the camera.

That's Gu Xidong.

He didn't buy any alcohol.

He has always been there.

He stood in the center of the ice rink, holding a walkie-talkie.

His head was tilted slightly, as if he were listening to something.

Then, he spoke a sentence into the walkie-talkie in a low voice.

His lips were moving.

Although there was no sound.

But Ling Wuwen clearly understood his lip movements.

He said:

"She has been found."

"According to plan, execute the 'burning of the city'."