Volume One, Chapter Ten: A Strange Sense of Reassurance

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Shen Qingqing immediately took out her phone, ready to call for help.
She found the signal here was very weak, making it impossible to get through.
As she searched the exhibition hall for a way to contact someone, she noticed a notice posted by the door:
“During the visit, please do not close the door.
Note: The exhibition hall has poor signal. Thirty minutes after the door is closed, the signal and lights will automatically shut off.”

Panic set in.
She had been so focused on the artifacts that she hadn’t noticed when the door was closed.
She had no way to predict how long it would be before the lights went out.
This terrifying ignorance and lack of control over what was about to happen overwhelmed her.

She knocked hard on the door, unwilling to stay even a minute longer. “Is anyone outside? Please, someone open the door...”
But outside was completely silent.

Glancing anxiously at the time, it was still a few minutes before six o’clock.
The museum staff should not have left yet.
Yet, no matter how desperately she pounded on the door, there was no response.

Time ticked by slowly; six o’clock soon passed.
The staff had finished work and left; her colleagues who had come with her were likely gone as well.
Had no one noticed she was missing?
Or perhaps, was the door closed by one of them?

“Is anyone there?
Please help me.
I don’t want to stay here...”

Her voice was hoarse, her pale cheeks drained of all color.
Gradually losing strength, she slid to the ground.
Leaning against the door, she looked around the exhibition hall.

The hall was filled with cold, lifeless relics.
The masks, statues, and scrolls that once bore ancient civilization now felt eerie and sinister...

Unable to suppress a shiver, Shen Qingqing curled up, hugging her bent knees with her left hand, clutching her phone tightly in her right.
She desperately wanted to call, hoping against hope for a connection.
But she feared the battery draining and the total darkness that would come with the power going out.

In the end, she only managed to send one WeChat message to Xiao Meimei: “Help me, I’m trapped in the S Exhibition Hall of the museum.”
The message never sent. The power went out.

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Shen Qingqing did not scream but feigned calm, whispering repeatedly:
“Don’t be afraid, Shen Qingqing! Don’t be afraid...”

She shakily turned on the flashlight, illuminating a small corner nearby.
Burying her head, she dared not look into the pitch-black depths beyond.

She softly hummed her favorite song, “Little Happiness”:
“No big wishes, no rush,
Seeing the red light at the intersection flashing,
It’s like a little sun winking.
The dark clouds are bold,
Stuck above my head, blowing but not clearing,
I hold it in my hand and squeeze it into cotton candy,
Nothing can be forgotten...”

Unconsciously, tears streamed down her face.
She didn’t know how long her phone’s battery would last,
She didn’t know how long she could remain calm,
She didn’t know when, or if, she would be found tomorrow...

The overwhelming pressure plunged her again into a hazy dreamlike state.
She saw herself trapped in a corner, inside a bombed-out house barely large enough for her small frame.

She saw a woman being dragged away by several men, tears streaming down her face as she cried out: “Niuniu, my Niuniu...”
She heard herself shouting desperately: “Mom, don’t go... don’t leave me...”

She tried hard to make out the woman’s face but could not see it clearly, only remembering the salty taste at the corner of her mouth...

“Mom... Mom... don’t leave me, I’m scared, I’m so scared!” Shen Qingqing screamed with all her might.

“Shen Qingqing!” came a voice from outside the door—Mo Lingcheng’s voice.

But Shen Qingqing was still lost in her hallucination, unable to pull herself free.
She faintly heard the voice but could no longer distinguish reality from illusion.

As Mo Lingcheng opened the door, Shen Qingqing’s upper body tilted backward in the direction it opened.
Her expressionless pale face under the faint glow of the phone looked even more ghostly.
Her eyes were dull, utterly devoid of panic or imbalance.

Mo Lingcheng had seen this blank, numb look on the faces of comrades before—
It was despair that sought not survival but death.

His heart clenched tightly. He immediately crouched down, pulling Shen Qingqing into his arms.
A sudden scent of gardenia overwhelmed him.

Memories of the little woman in his arms surfaced in Mo Lingcheng’s mind.
The chubby little fool from years ago,
The enchanting little siren by the cliff,
Now this frail, desperate little soul—
Which one was truly her?

Mo Lingcheng reached out, wiping away her tears, lowering his voice awkwardly as he soothed her:
“It’s all right now.”

The warm touch on his face, the solid chest pressed behind her...

Shen Qingqing gradually returned to reality. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying to quickly regain her senses.
Just as her lip began to bleed, Mo Lingcheng firmly gripped her chin, pried open her lips with his finger, and reproached her bitterly:
“Aren’t you afraid of dying and afraid of pain? Now you’re suddenly so tough!”

That cold voice, that irritating tone...

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Brief flashes of images raced through Shen Qingqing’s mind, but bright light interrupted them.
The corridor lights in the exhibition hall came back on.

The harsh glare stung her eyes; she instinctively closed them, fully returning to reality.

Her back pressed against a burning-hot chest, a slender finger resting at her lips.
She was saved! The one who saved her was...

She slowly leaned back her cheek, wanting to see the person behind her clearly...

At that moment, the administrator’s voice came from nearby:
“Sir, sorry. I didn’t know there was still someone inside...”

The sharp jawline, the deep eyes—it was Assistant Zhou!

Shen Qingqing never expected that the one who rescued her would be Assistant Zhou.

Mo Lingcheng carried Shen Qingqing horizontally, coldly tossing out an order:
“Extract the surveillance footage here and send it to the project department.”

The administrator responded immediately.

Mo Lingcheng carried Shen Qingqing all the way out.
She leaned weakly against his chest, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position, eyes closed.

This man inexplicably made her feel safe.

Mo Lingcheng lowered his gaze to the soft bundle in his arms.
Her pale cheek rested against his left shoulder, warm breath brushing his collarbone.
Her soft arms naturally wrapped around his neck, and as he moved, the inner side of her arms gently rubbed the skin on his neck.

Mo Lingcheng steadied himself, pulling his gaze back to the path ahead.
He couldn’t help but think wryly: Now that the danger’s gone, she’s back to flirting again.

He opened the rear door of the car, roughly placed Shen Qingqing inside, then turned and got into the driver’s seat.

This sudden roughness shattered Shen Qingqing’s drowsy thoughts.
She slowly sat up, her face full of confusion.

Just then, her phone rang.
It was Xiao Meimei, her voice filled with worry and guilt:
“Qingqing, are you okay? Wait for me, I’m coming to find you right now...”

The signal was back, and Xiao Meimei had received her message.

“I’m fine. I’m already out,” Shen Qingqing glanced at Mo Lingcheng.

Wasn’t it Xiao Meimei who called Mo Lingcheng to come rescue her?

“Is it... Assistant Zhou who rescued you?” a man’s voice came from Xiao Meimei’s phone.