Total darkness.
"What time is it?"
Pei Cangyu finally heard a voice from outside. It was a woman.
"Seven o'clock," a man answered her.
When Pei Cangyu woke up, he found himself inside a box. It wasn't large; he was curled up inside, huddled in a pitch-black void where he hadn't heard a sound for a long time.
The box was made of iron and aluminum. When he first arrived, he had slammed against it a few times, only to find the plates were incredibly thick and heavy; there was no way to break them open. Because of the box's dimensions, Pei Cangyu had to keep his neck bent. He hadn't been able to stretch for so long that the blood seemed to rush to his head, and his stiff, aching neck was nearing the point of numbness. His legs were tucked against his chest, his arms crossed over his knees. His clothes had been hitched up during his earlier struggle, leaving the skin near his tailbone exposed against the ice-cold metal. He couldn't even manage to tug his shirt down.
He couldn't move. He was locked in.
Upon hearing voices outside, Pei Cangyu’s first instinct was to scream.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
His voice emerged from the box muffled and dull, but he received no response for a long time. Had the people outside already left?
Pei Cangyu sank back into the darkness. He tried to sniff the air; there was only a damp scent, and even that was growing faint, likely just the lingering smell of the surroundings from when the box was first closed.
Suddenly, Pei Cangyu froze.
He took several deep breaths and finally realized: the air here was incredibly thin. This box was completely airtight.
He didn't dare move again. He kept his eyes open, but there was nothing but blackness before him. He didn't know who had brought him here or why. No one came to speak to him; he had been forgotten here.
It was like being buried alive.
Pei Cangyu tried desperately to pry his arms loose, feeling along the edges of the box above his head with his fingers, trying to find a crack in the seams or any evidence that it wasn't perfectly sealed. But the more he felt, the more despairing he became. His arms were stuck in a bizarre, cramped position, and he couldn't even reach down to his feet.
Suddenly, there was a noise outside. Pei Cangyu immediately pricked up his ears. He felt as though something was being placed over his box.
He felt the wall of the box. "Can you hear me? Is anyone there?"
He realized his sensation was wrong. Things weren't being placed "over" the box; they were being "stacked" on top of it. They were piling higher and higher, burying him underneath. As more items were added, Pei Cangyu felt his box shudder under the impact.
Pei Cangyu tried again. "Is anyone there? I'm trapped inside... Is anyone there?"
No one answered. Then, he felt an impact from the front; something was being blocked in front of his box.
Then came the stacking from all sides. Pei Cangyu finally began to understand. He was being hit from multiple directions, becoming more and more buried within the pile. Above him, in front, behind, to the left and right—it seemed everything was being packed tight with objects, sealing him in.
Yet, there was still a deathly silence.
An inexplicable terror swept over Pei Cangyu. He felt like a needle thrown into the ocean, an astronaut forgotten in deep space. The darkness and fear made his screams grow louder. He hammered recklessly against the walls of the box. The air grew thinner, and his breathing became more rapid.
Pei Cangyu slammed his head against the box, but he realized he could barely make the walls vibrate.
He muttered to himself, his body aching. His left foot suddenly began to cramp, and his lingering fever surged again. Waves of dizziness rolled over him, leaving him in a trance.
"Pei Cangyu."
Someone was calling him from outside!
Pei Cangyu struggled to lift his head, pressing it against the top of the box. "Who is it!"
It was a woman's voice, sounding far away.
"You're still the same, aren't you?"
"What? Who are you! Let me out! I want to get out!" Pei Cangyu slammed against the box with renewed ferocity.
"I can't," the voice said flatly.
"I knew long ago that you would be most afraid of this. Do you remember the psychological assessment you filled out in middle school? It asked for your most feared way to die. You wrote 'buried alive'."
Pei Cangyu screamed for her to let him out, shaking the box violently, but the woman seemed to just be making small talk.
"Do you know why we caught you?"
Pei Cangyu quieted down slightly, his eyes suddenly bulging. It wasn't because he wanted the answer, but because he suddenly couldn't draw breath.
Pei Cangyu clawed at his own neck, tearing his collar. He regretted screaming for so long. He tilted his neck back, trying to slow his breathing.
He was about to suffocate.
"Because of Bai Shi," the woman answered her own question.
"Let... me..." Pei Cangyu’s voice had changed pitch.
"You definitely don't recognize me anymore." The woman continued talking to herself. "Do you think Bai Shi will come?"
"Let... me..." A flash of white light suddenly filled Pei Cangyu’s vision, but hearing Bai Shi’s name, he managed to pull himself back. He didn't even know why he answered, "He will..."
"Do you know where Bai Shi is right now?"
Pei Cangyu stopped speaking. He was starting to see stars.
"At the Police Department. He can only choose one. He can't instruct anyone else to save you; he can't very well dispatch his subordinates right in front of the police, or he'd be finished. Besides, even if others came, they couldn't get in." The woman sounded like she was in a good mood.
"If he doesn't come and cooperates with the police, you will definitely die tonight. If he does come, this long, childish revenge of his will come to nothing." The woman’s voice rose, tinged with pleasure. "Do you understand? Bai Shi is finished."
Pei Cangyu didn't move.
"But don't hold out hope. We notified him three hours ago. If he were coming, he would have been here by now."
Pei Cangyu closed his eyes. The words that followed became a blur in his ears because of a constant ringing. The wound on his leg itched unbearably, but he couldn't scratch it. Dizzily, he tried to stretch his leg, only for it to remain jammed in its cramped position.
The voices outside vanished. The woman had left.
Pei Cangyu breathed slowly, but each breath felt more labored than the last.
He sank into darkness once more.
He felt that today might be the day.
It seemed everything was about to end.
Pei Cangyu no longer had the strength to struggle. Like a mule dying in the sun, he let out long, heavy breaths. Unfortunately, he wouldn't see the light; he was suffocating in a cramped box.
He was lightheaded, his vision flashing white and red. He listened to his own breathing, blinking his dry eyes.
In a sudden moment, Pei Cangyu thought of his phone. He reached for it, couldn't get it, and finally had to wrench his own leg aside to reach it.
It was off.
He turned it on, but it automatically shut down. He tried again and again, a persistent obsession in the process of his dying.
He didn't expect anyone to come save him because no one could make it in time. He didn't even know where he was. The only person who did know had refused to come. Did this count as Bai Shi killing him? Even if it wasn't the hands-on act he had always feared. He’d had a strange confidence that Bai Shi wouldn't be able to bring himself to hurt him, but in a situation like this, Bai Shi wouldn't have to feel any guilt, would he? "Failing to save someone" and "killing someone" were different things, after all.
Why was he still thinking? Pei Cangyu stubbornly kept trying to turn on the phone that kept shutting down, feeling for no reason that when the last spark of battery died, he would die too.
Pei Cangyu was still thinking of Bai Shi. He suddenly recalled many things from the past; he hadn't realized he remembered them so vividly. Thinking of the past brought noisy images crowding into his mind, allowing him to hear laughter and playful cursing in this unbearable silence.
Hallucinations, probably...
Pei Cangyu was still thinking of Bai Shi; he had no one else to think about. He suddenly felt that his life had been a failure. He didn't know when it started, but everyone else had moved forward while he remained stationary. At some point, he began to feel that many things in life were just too difficult. When did it start? From when his grandmother passed away? No, even earlier. From the end of his third year of middle school?
Pei Cangyu’s vision was a blur. He could only see the phone screen light up and then go dark; he couldn't make out the words at all.
He used to have many friends—in elementary, middle, and high school. He had always been popular. Later, his friends all scattered and left; they grew up and found other lives. He was still working toward stupid goals that no one cared about, numbing himself, making choices haphazardly, living his life irresponsibly. No one had ever tried to stop him, to advise him, or to tell him that a certain choice might not be good.
Pei Cangyu understood that he couldn't rely on others for his own affairs, but this also meant one thing: no one had ever truly cared about him. This was separate from whether he should seek care or not. At his core, he was perhaps a weak person. He wanted someone to acknowledge his efforts, to notice his existence. He wanted someone to be in his life for a long time, to become a part of each other's existence. He wanted someone to ask where he went when he wasn't there, someone who would worry and look for him when he went missing. He wanted someone to tell him with absolute certainty what was good to do and what wasn't—not a matter of whether he would obey, but because it would mean someone cared enough to guide him with conviction.
But there was no such person. No one appeared. Everyone was busy.
Where do lonely people gather to keep each other warm? Where do they find souls to comfort one another? What kind of luck would it take to meet another person who actually needed them?
Why didn't he, Pei Cangyu, have that?
Loneliness was truly going to be the death of him. He really didn't want to admit it—his pitch-black room, his empty home, his aspirations that no one cared about, his fleeting girlfriends.
But suddenly, the phone didn't go out.
Pei Cangyu blinked. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
They weren't. His phone had stayed on.
Pei Cangyu struggled to open his eyes. Everything was still a blur. He relied on instinct to dial the most recent call. If he remembered correctly, it should be Tu Ziyun.
He pressed the call button. He didn't even expect there to be a signal. He just made the call, not even knowing what he wanted to say.
"Hello?"
A voice actually came from the other end. Pei Cangyu slowly moved his arm to his ear. This was the fastest he could manage. He felt these would be his last words.
"I... I'm dying..." Pei Cangyu spoke with great difficulty, feeling his chest throb with every breath. This was likely the end.
There was a silence on the other end, followed by a voice that sounded none too pleased: "Is this a prank?"
"I'm dying..." Pei Cangyu repeated.
The other side decisively hung up.
Pei Cangyu saw the screen change, but it still didn't shut off. He called again.
This time it was picked up quickly. The man's voice was more serious: "Whoever you are, please stop calling."
"My last words are..." Pei Cangyu spoke to himself. He wanted to talk. His whole body was in pain, and he forced out this final sentence. "Are..."
The other side paused. They didn't speak again, but they didn't hang up either.
However, Pei Cangyu couldn't say his last words. He had no words to leave for anyone living. No one was waiting for his final message.
Instead, a voice came from the other end of the line. "Professor Shi, are you ready?"
The owner of the phone gave an affirmative grunt and hung up. Pei Cangyu watched as the phone screen suddenly plunged into darkness. It wouldn't light up again, no matter how he pressed it.
It was over.
Pei Cangyu’s trembling hand let go. The phone hit the bottom of the box with a dull thud.
He gasped for air. A death by suffocation probably wouldn't look very good. He had already accepted the despair of death, but his lungs still struggled senselessly, trying to suck in one last breath.
Pei Cangyu clawed at his neck, his mouth open and head tilted back, panting heavily. He let out dry, raspy gasps, leaving bloody scratches on his neck. His vision was filled with white light.
It was over.
Suddenly, a series of crashing sounds erupted around him. Things were being shoved and overturned. The thumping of footsteps echoed nearby.
Pei Cangyu tilted his head back and suddenly saw the box being pulled open. A blinding white light nearly seared his eyes. Bai Shi was standing on another box, having cast aside the coverings. He looked down at Pei Cangyu. Bai Shi was panting, soaked to the bone, his suit stained with blood. He braced one foot on the edge of Pei Cangyu’s box and crouched down, his cold, trembling hand reaching out to touch Pei Cangyu’s neck. He felt a pulse still thrumming there.
The water on Bai Shi’s face ran down his cheeks and dripped into Pei Cangyu’s mouth.
Pei Cangyu’s vision gradually cleared. He looked at Bai Shi and spoke in a dazed, raspy voice.
"Is it raining?"
***
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Stolen Jade | Chapter 50 | Buried in the Dark | Novela.app | Novela.app
