Événements étranges dans la chambre 202

Chapitre 4

I understand her. But then I suddenly remembered what Ye Xiao had told me, so I said, "Auntie, could I take Lin Shu's computer back with me? I'd like to keep it as a souvenir."

Lin Shu's mother naturally agreed.

That evening, when I got home, I connected Lin Shu's computer to my monitor and turned it on. His computer settings were similar to mine. I opened all his folders; they were mostly ordinary music files and documents, not much content. He didn't seem to like writing anything. Then I checked his programs; nothing special. The games were also ordinary, mostly CD versions.

I opened his browsing history, a dense, detailed record from December 17th to the day he died. It included general websites as well as some of his frequently visited personal sites. I used the most tedious method: visiting every single page in every history entry. The monitor flickered as my mouse clicked busily. I'd visited most of the websites, and there wasn't anything particularly interesting about them. Finally, I went to a .NET website, only to discover I'd never been there before. More importantly, the website's name was rather strange: "Tomb Raider." It reminded me of Tomb Raider. But then again, there are plenty of attention-grabbing names like that online.

I carefully checked his history for the other few days, and this website appeared every day. A long list of web pages followed, suggesting Lin Shu had frequently logged into the site. I also opened his bookmarks and found that the site was also there, created on December 7th.

Clicking "Add to Favorites" took me to the homepage of Tomb Raider.

The webpage loaded unexpectedly quickly; almost in the blink of an eye, a deathly black screen filled my view. My eyes couldn't adjust to this sudden change, and my heart skipped a beat.

The homepage is black with yellow and red lines. At the top is a pattern of a classical palace roof, with golden tiles being the most striking feature of the page. Below the roof hangs a plaque with four neat characters in regular script: "Ancient Tomb Ghosts."

The homepage features a long strip divided into many clickable boxes, all designed as tombstone images—gray tombstones with a large burial mound behind each one. The tombstones are inscribed with black regular script. From top to bottom, the first tombstone is inscribed "Qin-Han Dynasty Tomb," the second "Wei-Jin-Northern and Southern Dynasties Tomb," the third "Sui-Tang Dynasty Tomb," the fourth "Song-Yuan Dynasty Tomb," and the fifth "Ming-Qing Dynasty Tomb." Perhaps it's a personal website for a history enthusiast who studies ancient tombs.

On the left side of the homepage is a row of skulls. Within the narrow, elongated space, the skull's image is stretched, resembling the skeleton of an extremely thin basketball player. Even more striking is the skull's mouth, which opens and closes, constantly emitting white smoke. This smoke drifts across the page, gradually transforming into a line of white text—"A Paradise for Tomb Raiders."

The right side of the homepage displays a series of texts. At the top is today's date, which, instead of January 7th, 2001, is marked as December 13th of the Gengchen year, presumably the lunar calendar date. Below are: "You are the 35215th visitor"; "187 people online"; "Add to Favorites"; "Ancient Tomb Ghost Message Board"; "Ancient Tomb Ghost Chat Room". However, there is no site administrator email address, nor are there any links to other websites.

I clicked on the first tombstone. A new window immediately popped up. The top of the new page still had the same roof and plaque as the homepage, in a black style. Below were rows of clickable text: "Yinxu Ancient Tomb", "Zhou Dynasty Ancient Tomb", "Qin Shi Huang Mausoleum", "Han Dynasty Imperial Mausoleum", "Mawangdui Han Tomb", and "Zhongshan Jingwang Tomb". However, the icons for "Ancient Tomb Ghost Message Board" and "Ancient Tomb Ghost Chat Room" were still present in the upper right corner.

I opened a new window for "Yinxu Ancient Tombs." The top layer, just like the homepage, contained an article introducing Yinxu tombs, ancient human burial customs, and archaeology. I've read many articles like this before; nothing particularly special. I closed this window and then opened other content in "Qin and Han Ancient Tombs," all introductions to ancient tombs. I used to be very interested in this kind of thing, but now I'm indifferent. So I closed "Qin and Han Ancient Tombs" as well.

Next, I opened the "Ancient Tombs of the Wei, Jin, Northern and Southern Dynasties," "Ancient Tombs of the Sui and Tang Dynasties," and "Ancient Tombs of the Song and Yuan Dynasties" sections on the homepage. Like the previous one, they were all introductions to ancient Chinese tombs from various dynasties, with perhaps a few pictures of archaeological discoveries attached. It's strange; a personal website with this kind of content shouldn't have such high traffic.

Finally, I opened the "Ming and Qing Dynasty Ancient Tombs" webpage. Unlike the previous ones, this one had the same skull on the left as the one on the homepage. Suddenly, the skull's mouth opened, still emitting a puff of white smoke, which transformed into a line of text—"You are getting closer and closer to her." Unlike the homepage, this text grew larger and larger until it covered the entire webpage, until the screen was filled with the white character "she." This sudden change made my heart pound, but thankfully, the "she" character only lasted a few seconds before disappearing, and the webpage returned to its initial state. I thought perhaps the webmaster liked to scare people, or maybe it was some kind of hint—hint at what? And what did that suddenly enormous "she" character represent? Who was "she"? I began to become interested.

In the middle of this webpage, there's still that row of signs for various ancient tombs: "Ming Tombs", "Dingling Underground Palace", "Western Qing Tombs", and "Eastern Qing Tombs".

I opened the "Ming Tombs" section and found it was still just introductory text, detailed but nothing new. The new windows for "Dingling Underground Palace" and "Western Qing Tombs" were the same. Was it just another attempt to create mystery?

I opened the last one, "Qing Dongling." A new window opened quickly, showing a white screen. Gradually, I could see the white character—"She." Was it still "She"? But then "She" rapidly shrank, eventually becoming a regular font size similar to size 3, followed by a few more characters that together read—"She's waiting for you." Then, these characters disappeared, and the page returned to a black design similar to a homepage.

Who is waiting for me?

In the center of the webpage is a long row of gray gates, each studded with a copper nail. The first gate is inscribed with "Xiaoling". The gates below are inscribed with "Jingling", "Yuling", "Dingling", "Dingdongling", and "Huiling" in that order.

I clicked on the first gate called "Xiaoling Mausoleum," and the new window was completely blank; there was nothing there.

The second gate, "Jingling," displays an image in a new window: a portrait of a Qing Dynasty emperor in a dragon robe, much like the portraits of Qing emperors that we often see in movies, hanging in the Yuanmingyuan or other palaces. It is a very detailed painting, with bright and piercing eyes, and may have incorporated techniques from Western realist oil painting.

The third gate, "Yuling," features a similar portrait to the second one. Although the emperor's face resembles the previous one, it is still clear that they are two different people.

The fourth gate, "Dingling," is also dedicated to an emperor, who appears to be younger than the previous two.

The fifth gate, "Dingdong Mausoleum," didn't feature an emperor, but rather a middle-aged woman dressed in full Qing Dynasty court attire. She had a pointed face, small but exceptionally sharp eyes, tightly pursed lips, and an expressionless, imposing presence. This woman instilled fear in me. Could she be "her"?

I opened the last door.

Huiling.

Another portrait of an emperor appeared in the new window, but this emperor looked very young, probably only a boy of about twenty years old. That's it? Just as I was about to close the window, the emperor's mouth suddenly opened, and from it emerged a line of white regular script: "She is in the underground palace."

Again, "she," and "underground palace"—it sounds like she's gone down into a tomb. I suddenly remembered the only thing Qian Xiaoqing said yesterday in the mental hospital—"She's in the underground palace." It's exactly the same; there must be a connection. She might have also been to "Ancient Tomb Ghosts."

"She" appeared starting with "Ming and Qing Dynasty Ancient Tombs" and continued until here. Perhaps the site administrator had been subtly reminding me and giving me various hints, guiding me along the way. I discovered that this line of text was clickable, so I clicked on "her".

In the center of the new page was still a large gray door. Faintly floating above the door were the words "Enter the Underground Palace." I clicked on the door, and a new window appeared.

The new window is divided into three parts. The bottom quarter is a scrollable dialog box. The remaining three-quarters is further divided in two by a straight line running from top to bottom. On the left is an image resembling a topographical map, covered with dense, winding lines, shrouded in a layer of black mist. On the right is a tunnel directly facing me, with black walls all around and a faint beam of light directly in front—perhaps this is the underground palace of the tomb.

I clicked with the mouse, but it didn't seem to do anything, so I tried using the arrow keys. The image in the tunnel changed; the walls and ground receded, and I pressed the forward key. I understood; using the arrow keys, I could simulate walking in the tunnel. I continued forward, and a black wall appeared, so I pressed the left mouse button. I turned a corner, and another path appeared ahead. I looked at the terrain map on the left; a blank area appeared in the bottom right corner, though it was insignificant compared to the overall black fog on the map.

It turned out to be a maze game. I'd played similar games before, but I'd never seen it played online like this before. Usually, you had to download the game software first and then play it online. Had they developed a new system that allowed direct play? I continued my journey through the tunnels.

Suddenly, a message popped up in the chat box below—Ye Xiao: Stop playing and log off now.

How could it be him? I also entered my username below, set a random password, and then typed a few words: Ye Xiao, is it really you?

Ye Xiao: That's right, it's me.

Me: How did you know I was here?

Ye Xiao: I'm from the Public Security Bureau, so listen to me and I'll log off immediately.

Me: Why?

Ye Xiao: For no reason, it's like I'm ordering you.

Me: Okay, whatever you say.

Ye Xiao: It's too late, get some sleep.

Me: Goodbye.

I finally logged off. I shut down the computer, turned off all the lights, and drew the thick curtains. Hiding in the darkness, I imagined myself as a tomb raider, venturing into a dark and mysterious underground palace—a place of death. And inside that palace, she was waiting for me.

who is she?

Virus (Part 3)

January 10th

I found Ye Xiao again. He still looked preoccupied.

"According to the hospital records, you visited Qian Xiaoqing at the mental hospital?" His tone sounded like he was blaming me.

"Yes, is that not allowed?" I replied curtly; he was being too nosy.

"On the very night after you left, Qian Xiaoqing attempted suicide by swallowing a pair of scissors she had secretly kept in her hospital room. She was discovered too late and could not be saved; she died."

"What did you say?" I was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. I didn't know what my visit to her had to do with her suicide attempt, but what she said filled me with a deep sense of fear. And the night she said those words, she passed away. Maybe I really shouldn't have gone to see her.

"She's dead. Why did you go to see her? She has nothing to do with you. Your involvement is completely unnecessary. Do you understand?" He seemed genuinely angry.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't expect it to turn out this way." I lowered my head.

"Don't go to the Ancient Tomb Ghost again." His tone finally softened.

Why?

"I'm doing this for your own good. I've done some investigation in secret. Among those who committed suicide under mysterious circumstances, all those with computer records showed that they had frequently visited the Ghost Tomb."

"As expected, have you traced the IP address of Tomb Ghost? You should be able to find the server and the site administrator."

"Normally, this is how it is. Finding the site administrator should be quick using our bureau's technical means, as long as the Tomb of the Dead's servers are located in China. But unexpectedly, even using all kinds of advanced technical means, through IP addresses or other clues, I can't find it. This is very strange. From a technical point of view, it's impossible, but it seems that all technical means are ineffective against Tomb of the Dead."

"Perhaps the server is located overseas."

“Even if it’s overseas, there are ways to solve it, but the problem is that this server is definitely in China, and it’s very likely in this city.” Ye Xiao then shook his head and sighed softly, “Perhaps the site administrator has more advanced technical means than we do. So advanced that we simply cannot imagine what kind of methods he could use to obstruct my investigation.”

"Yes, this website is strange. First of all, it's incredibly fast. Even large web pages, including those with complex images, can be completely transmitted and displayed in an instant. Also, there are many moving words, and the content of the same web page keeps changing. The strangest thing is the maze game at the end, which can be played without downloading. The site owner must have used a lot of very advanced software and systems."

“Yes, in short, you can’t go on this website anymore. You’re your parents’ only son, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. There are many things in this world that are hard to predict.” As he spoke, he patted my shoulder. I knew he meant well.

"And what about you? Do you still want to investigate?"

"I don't know. Actually, all these investigations I did were done privately on my own, and I'm very worried. At least I don't want to visit the ancient tombs and haunted places again." He suddenly paused, and I could hear a hint of fear in his tone, however subtle and barely perceptible. Perhaps he was afraid.

“You’ve changed.” I feel that he is no longer the fearless person he used to be. He has become hesitant and cautious. We haven’t seen each other in the years he’s been studying in Beijing. Time really does change people.

"You don't understand me anymore, because—never mind, it's getting late, go home and get some sleep. Remember, don't stay online in the middle of the night, it's bad for your health."

"Thanks."

As I walked out of his door, he was still reminding me from behind: "Remember, don't go to the Ghostly Tomb again."

I waved to him and said goodbye.

"She's in the underground palace."

On the cold, dark street, those words echoed in my ears—a low, breathy voice, each word deliberate and lingering, like a thread, constantly haunting me. The girl who spoke those words to me was already lying in the morgue.

January 15th

I spent several days in boredom. During those days, I didn't visit "Ancient Tomb Ghosts" anymore, and I rarely went to other websites either, just staying home alone reading. Ye Xiao forbade me from visiting "Ancient Tomb Ghosts," and I believe he had good reason for it, even though I couldn't imagine that entering a website would pose a direct threat to my life. But the fact remains that so many people committed suicide for no apparent reason, especially my old classmate Lin Shu and colleague Lu Bai. Although they didn't know each other personally, they were so familiar with me, and their deaths were so sudden and inexplicable. I felt that for the first time, I was so close to death. In the past, I always thought that death was someone else's business, something far away from me, but I was wrong. I found myself facing it. I remembered once when I was a child, my grandmother suddenly fell ill and was taken to the hospital. She wasn't admitted to a ward immediately but stayed in the internal medicine emergency room, and our whole family stayed by her side. Several other seriously ill patients were in the emergency room. An old man lay alone on a portable stretcher, no one with him, receiving an IV drip. Doctors passed by him without checking on him; they said he was about to die, and they were just waiting for him to die so they could give him a token resuscitation. Suddenly, an unconscious woman was brought in. Her family said she had just overdosed on sleeping pills. The doctor immediately performed a gastric lavage, but it seemed to have little effect. Then, a group of people rushed in carrying a man and a woman, crying and sobbing. The doctor tried to resuscitate her briefly and then said to prepare for the worst. The woman immediately collapsed, crying out, "He's still so young!" I spent the night in the emergency room. That night, three people died there. I watched them die, each one peacefully, leaving this world almost completely unconscious. Their bodies withered, transformed from life into something else, about to be issued death certificates, sent to the morgue, and then, a few days later, transported to the crematorium. What is death? I began to reconsider this question that I had pondered as a child.

As I pondered, I began to tremble. I remembered Ye Xiao's words—the virus. Viruses are contagious. I was so close to those suicide victims, almost completely infected. Would I be infected? But I wanted to know the truth more than anything else. This desire outweighed all my other desires. After hesitating for a moment, I finally turned on my computer and entered "Tomb Raider."

I examined the homepage again closely. The pageview count showed: "You are visitor number 45015"; "279 people online." I remember seeing over 35,000 visits last time, but it's increased by nearly 10,000 in just a few days, and the number of people online is also higher than before. This means that more and more people are coming here, or rather, they are coming more frequently. It's astonishing that such a small personal website has such power; I really don't know what methods it uses.

I remembered that I hadn't accessed the Tomb of the Dead message board and chat room last time. So I clicked on the message board. It still had a black theme, but the format was similar to other message boards and forums, except there were no administrator names or email addresses. I carefully looked at the titles of the messages; they were all sorts of bizarre and varied, such as "Autopsy Report of the Western Han Dynasty Female Corpse from the Mawangdui Tomb," "I've Fallen in Love with an Egyptian Mummy," "Does anyone know the tomb of Kublai Khan?" and "Asura, let's go tomb raiding tonight." I noticed there were about thirty messages on one page, and the message at the bottom of the page was dated January 15th at 2:53 AM. The most recent message was less than ten minutes old. Each message had a high click rate, with the most having 189 clicks and the least having 30.

I opened a comment titled "Love in the Coffin." It was quite long, at least two or three thousand words. I skimmed through it and realized it was an original short story. The poster was "Black and White Impermanence," and I had no idea if he wrote it or reposted it. The story was pretty good; it sent chills down my spine. There were a few comments—"Fantastic!", "Black and White Impermanence, I love you!", "I finished reading this post at midnight, but thankfully, I didn't have a heart attack. Black and White, your skills aren't quite there yet; next time, try to give me a heart attack." I chuckled to myself.

Perhaps I could leave a message, so I clicked "post a message" and used the username I registered when I last talked to Ye Xiao to post a thread titled "Does anyone here know Sankeshu and Baibai?" Sankeshu is Lin Shu's most frequently used username, and Baibai is Lu Bai's username. Then I wrote the content: "Sankeshu and Baibai have committed suicide."

After posting the message, I temporarily left the message board and followed the same order as before to enter "Ming and Qing Dynasty Tombs," where I saw the words "You are getting closer and closer to her." Then I entered "Eastern Qing Tombs," and just like before, "She is waiting for you." Then I entered the bottom "Huiling," where the young emperor was still there, uttering the words "She is in the underground palace." I remembered the low, breathy voice of the female college student I heard in the mental hospital, as if that voice was about to come from my computer speakers.

I let out a soft breath, my fingers suddenly stiffening, unable to press down for a long time. It was as if I were truly about to open the "underground palace." This is a common feeling, a fear of the unknown and the dark. Perhaps there's nothing in the so-called "underground palace," just a deliberate charade, and the so-called "fear" is mostly just self-inflicted. I kept reassuring myself, enough. I can't let Ye Xiao's words hold me back anymore. He's lost his courage. Now I need to imagine myself as a tomb raider. Yes, I'm here to raid tombs now; what I should be afraid of is what's hidden inside the underground palace.

Enter the underground palace.

I discovered that I was still at my previous progress in this maze game; apparently, the system automatically saves and retains my progress. I pressed the forward key, and there was another wall, but there were paths to the left and right, forming a three-way intersection. I chose the left, and after moving forward for a while, an exit appeared on the right side of the tunnel. I chose to turn; this path was very long, and I held down the up key. I felt as if I were running, heading towards a sliver of light in the dark dungeon. Suddenly, I heard footsteps. Yes, I really heard them; it sounded like my own footsteps, those hurried footsteps in a stuffy, enclosed environment, seemingly echoing for a long time in the silent tomb, the sound bouncing back against the tomb walls. I released my grip on the key, and the footsteps suddenly disappeared. I pressed the key again, and the footsteps started again. I pressed the key again, pausing and striking, and the sound came back, just like the sound of my normal walking. I moved my head closer to the computer and realized that the sound was coming from the speakers. This kind of sound, which comes with the mouse or keyboard, is not uncommon in games. Although it was a false alarm, the sound was so realistic that it was like a simultaneous recording in a documentary, giving people a sense of immersion. It was completely different from the electronic sound effects we usually hear.

I continued forward, seemingly following my own footsteps. Gradually, the faint light ahead grew brighter, then suddenly dimmed again. I saw a dark figure appear ahead, growing larger until, in the dim light, it took on a human shape. Until I rushed towards that "person," I couldn't make out his face; it seemed to be a man's figure. I resolved to continue, but pressing the forward button had no effect. I knew he was blocking my path. He continued walking forward, while I found myself involuntarily retreating.

A line of text suddenly appeared in the dialog box below—

Ye Xiao: Don't even think about getting past me, back off now.

It's him again? Could he be the "person" in that game? How could he know it was me in an interactive game like this? Is it some kind of trickery again? Fine, I'm not going to fight him anymore. I wisely backed away, while "he" remained rooted to the spot. I listened to my own footsteps until "his" figure grew smaller and smaller, disappearing into the sliver of light.

I closed the game window.

Leaving the "underground palace," I opened the message board again. I saw a reply to the post I'd just made, and the title of the reply was actually my name—not the username I used in the message, but my real name given to me by my parents. I was shocked. Someone actually knew me! Could it be Ye Xiao's reply? I checked the signature; it wasn't Ye Xiao, but—Huang Yun. This shocked me even more.

The reply read: "Is that you? Lu Bai once told me your most frequently used online name. Welcome to Tomb of the Dead. Come find me in the chat room. My name in Tomb of the Dead is still Huang Yun. I'll be waiting for you."

It was her. Perhaps the situation was far more complicated than I had imagined, even far worse. I was becoming increasingly confused. Without thinking, I opened the Tomb Raider chat room on the homepage.

Like any ordinary chat room, it used a black background and white text. It was hard on the eyes to read. There was a long list of online names, all sorts of different kinds. I found "Huang Yun" at the very bottom; she spoke to me first—

Huang Yun: Hello.

Me: Hello.

Huang Yun: Do you know the Three Trees?

Me: He was my best friend. His suicide was similar to Lu Bai's, without any reason. I came here because I found the novel "The Ghost of the Ancient Tomb" on his computer.

Huang Yun: Sankeshu often speaks here, and I've talked to him too.

Me: Really? Did you see any signs of his suicidal tendencies in his statements?