Banfang District

We remained in this standoff for seven or eight minutes, until I started feeling a chill in my limbs, realizing that this couldn't continue. Moreover, those guys remained motionless, like statues. If they were alive, they should have made a move by now, instead of waiting for me to approach and then springing a "surprise."

I gritted my teeth, adjusted the lantern wick, and increased the brightness to its maximum. Gradually, I cautiously approached.

In the light, those individuals became clearer. They possessed robust figures, towering above ordinary people, and appeared to be unclothed, with healthy deep brown skin. I was puzzled, wondering if this was some kind of talent performance by male models?

With a bit more courage, I moved closer. Their features became distinct, and to my surprise, they were all humanoid armors.

It was a false alarm. I couldn't help but let out a long breath. These male models turned out to be standing suits of armor. It struck me as odd; why would there be suits of armor here?

I examined them closely. The armor resembled the full-body armor from the mid-Qing Dynasty, with layered fish-scale plates even on the neck. However, the craftsmanship was undoubtedly modern, adding to the confusion. Creating such subpar imitations seemed pointless; they lacked both aesthetic and collectible value. The only plausible conclusion was their practical use.

In other words, these suits of armor were genuinely worn by someone at some point. The question then shifted to why someone would wear such cumbersome gear. This was no medieval battlefield; I suspected the armor served a protective function, possibly for high-risk operations.

Having grasped this concept, I wiped a bit of the strange liquid from the armor. It was evident that the liquid served a purpose and wasn't just for show.

I speculated on its uses, eventually leaning towards the possibility of "attraction" or "repulsion." Either way, it targeted a third party. As I contemplated whether to experiment with the liquid myself, I hesitated. The consequences could be drastically different depending on the choice, so after careful consideration, I decided to abstain. I wasn't confident in making the right choice, and I already had a bottle of this liquid in my bag, ready for use if necessary.

Moving forward led to the row of board houses, which, as expected, were old and numerous.

House after house, they followed a uniform style with one door and one window. The windows were slender, about forty to fifty centimeters, covered with iron mesh. Each window was covered with large pieces of cloth from the inside, making them pitch-black. The door panels were mostly damaged, with the old wooden doors inset with two glass panes.

My mouth watered involuntarily. These board houses seemed to be the dormitories for the secret construction workers back then. After some hesitation, I summoned courage and pushed open one of the doors. The rusty hinge emitted a screeching sound. I stepped back, covered my mouth, waited for the dust to settle, and avoided the musty smell seeping out before carefully entering with the lantern.

The room was not large, with several irregularly patched pieces of cloth blocking the windows. Underneath, there was a wooden table with two wooden beds on either side, their blankets bunched up and nearly unrecognizable due to mold.

Placing the lantern on the table, the light illuminated the entire room. On the table, I noticed two aluminum lunchboxes and a dark iron teapot. After checking the drawers, I found an old tin flashlight with rusted batteries. Other than that, there were some discarded papers with faded ink, unreadable and of no use.

Surveying the surroundings, there was nothing but the table and beds. The room's layout was clear, with no hidden places for clues.

Suddenly, I remembered one place I hadn't checked—the bed's underside. I reached for the lantern and directed its light under the bed. Initially, I didn't expect much, but upon closer inspection, a face with shriveled fur and a peculiar expression suddenly appeared, startling me. I let out an "ah" and fell back.

Patting my chest, I grabbed the lantern and, somewhat shaken, looked again. The "strange face" turned out to be a large dead cat, its body straightened, eyes wide open. I had been startled by its appearance.

Standing up, I checked under several other beds, finding only a metal basin and rotten towels, with no additional discoveries.

As I was about to leave, an old newspaper caught my attention. On the wall beside the bed where I was sitting, there were several yellowed old newspapers pasted with cut-out sections.

Holding the lantern, I examined it closely. A large headline caught my eye, "Passionate Love Illuminates the Candle," with a subtitle celebrating the full opening of the Daylight Station for both passengers and cargo. Next to it was a photo of a middle-aged man with sword-like eyebrows and sideburns, draped in a cloak, looking dignified. As I scrutinized the photo, I suddenly realized something. I quickly took out the photo I found in the general affairs office, comparing the two. The man in the photo was the military officer standing next to the Second Master.

If the main theme of this article was celebrating the completion of the Daylight Station, then logically, the person in the photo should be the station master. I quickly looked down to the bottom of the photo, only to find that the caption had been cut off.

Glancing through the other parts of the article, it provided an introduction to the Daylight Station, from its construction time to when it started operation. There was no other useful information.

I sat on the bed, contemplating the mysteries involved. If the Second Master knew the station master, it meant he was also aware of the events at Platform 7, perhaps even personally involved. This suggested that my father's actions here might not be limited to hiding something.

Looking at the key in my hand, I sighed. What secrets could you unlock?

Leaving that dormitory, I entered the adjacent room, expecting it to be similar to the previous one. However, to my surprise, this room was not a dormitory but a much larger medical room.

Inside the medicine cabinet on one wall, there wasn't much left. Holding the lantern, I discovered labels on the medicine bottles, mostly painkillers. There were also some small wooden boxes, and even after all this time, they retained a faint scent of Chinese medicine.

Moving further in, I encountered over a dozen iron beds. To my horror, I discovered extensive bloodstains on almost all the beds. Some had seeped through the mattress, while others had dripped onto the floor, forming a layer of dark blood scabs.

I proceeded to see some bed frames still hanging with intravenous bottles. Some even had cloudy liquid yet to be fully administered, indicating a hurried evacuation.

Frowning, I walked forward, shocked by the large-scale bloodshed. Whatever they faced back then must have been beyond the horrors of a mere rumored accident. Could it have been related to Platform 7?

As I walked, I accidentally stepped on something. With the help of the lantern's light, I saw abandoned needles and shattered glass. Continuing forward, I found many iron bed railings showing obvious signs of struggle. After observing several instances, I realized these were claw marks. A shiver ran down my spine, thinking about the

 immense pain those patients endured during those times.

In the innermost area, there was an elongated desk with an old leather chair pinned with thumbtacks. I thought I might find some clues here, but apart from prescription notes, there was nothing else. The only useful piece of information was the massive quantity of medicines purchased back then, exceeding normal proportions.

On my way out, I noticed something unusual, a feeling that something was off. I scanned my surroundings and suddenly heard a very soft footstep, as if stepping on the edge of my heart. My eyes focused on the entrance to the factory area, where a blurry silhouette appeared. My heart skipped a beat – they had arrived.