Chapter 3: Keep a Copy?

The rainy season in Nha Trang hit without warning.

The downpour came down like a thousand ice-cold whips, cracking across every inch of the coastal city. Guhai Li stood at the end of the corridor in the old building of the Normal University, rainwater pouring into him through his soaked shirt collar, a bone-chilling cold washing over him. The letter in his hand, written from a prison cell, had softened from the dampness, its edges yellowed and the ink blurred and running. He rubbed his thumb over the water-stained strokes, trying to piece together the broken logic from the smudged characters.

The door to the Archive Room at the far end of the corridor was ajar, leaking a dim yellow light. Huangnan Chen sat amidst a pile of dusty old papers, frowning at an ancient scanner. Guhai knew every single scent of this place as the editor of the School Journal; it was a mix of aged paper and moldy leather, like the bruise marks of time itself.

"You're here." Huangnan's voice was raspy, as if he hadn't had water for hours. He looked up, his eyes carrying a weary clarity. "I knew it. That black shadow wasn't a hallucination. In Nha Trang, as long as the stench of money is strong enough, eyes will grow out of thin air."

Guhai didn't answer. He just placed a copy of the Land Deed on the table—a document he had bought from an old newspaper stand, wrapped in a scrap of cloth. The paper was thin as a cicada's wing, the edges curled, and the seal stamped on it was barely legible.

"This is the last one," Guhai said, his voice low. "If this is genuine, the plan by that old fox Wenxiong Fan to use legal paperwork to cover up smuggling evidence has a fatal logical flaw. The survey coordinates on this deed match the boundaries of the Ruins protection zone exactly."

Huangnan Chen picked up the copy, his fingertips trembling slightly. He didn't unfold it immediately; instead, he held it up to the light, studying the texture of the paper. "Look at this crease," Huangnan said, pointing to a deep pressure mark on the back of the deed. "This is where it was forcibly torn and then re-attached. If this were a forgery, the counterfeiter would have used fresh paper or smoothed it out better. This crease... it still has the bloodstains from that year."

Guhai's pupils contracted. Bloodstains? On an archive document from this era?

"I saw it in the Archive Room before." Huangnan finally looked up, his gaze avoiding Guhai and drifting to the pitch-black rain curtain outside. "Last year, when I was sorting through historical artifacts donated by the Textile Factory, this deed was mixed in with a box of old ledgers. I even tried to take a photo as a backup, but the next day, it was gone. I thought I’d just sorted the boxes wrong, so I didn't dig deeper. Now I realize, it was a deliberate 'disappearance' staged by someone."

"Why tell me now?" Guhai pressed, his rational instinct demanding he clarify every link in the chain of cause and effect. "If that copy had been switched out, where did this one come out of?"

Huangnan let out a bitter laugh and slid the deed back across the desk. "Because it's been in my drawer. I hid it. I knew it was dangerous, but I knew even more that if it kept silent, the people crushed under the wheels of history would never have a voice."

"Screwing up?" Guhai scoffed. "Whose back were you protecting with your silence? Wenxiong Fan? Or those families under surveillance?"

Huangnan Chen’s fingers gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. His body was rigid, like a bowstring pulled to its breaking point. "You're wrong, Guhai. I was protecting Yulan Fan."

That name worked like a key, instantly unlocking a heavy gate somewhere in Guhai's mind. He looked at Huangnan, who lowered his head, his voice as light as a sigh.

"Yulan's family has been under constant surveillance. The management of the Textile Factory, which is directly under Wenxiong Fan's command, has been watching their every move morning and night. If I publicize the location of this deed or prove its authenticity now, Wenxiong Fan won't just stand by and watch. He'll eliminate the witness first, then destroy the evidence. Yulan Fan is the daughter of that long-serving veteran employee; she is the last piece of the puzzle. If something happens to her, all the clues lead to a dead end."

Guhai stood up and walked to the window. The rain was intensifying; a flash of lightning split the night sky, momentarily illuminating the mountain of archive boxes stacked in the corridor. Looking at his pale reflection in the glass, a chill rose in his chest.

"So, you chose to compromise," Guhai turned around, his tone icy. "You locked this evidence in a drawer like you locked it in a coffin. You think you're protecting her, but actually, you're complicit."

Huangnan snapped his head up, pain flashing in his eyes. "You think I haven't fought this? I applied for a transfer. I tried to report through the proper channels, but every time, the leads just vanished mid-way. Officer Desheng Wu is under too much pressure within the system; he can't break through the higher-ups' blockades. And I? I'm just a student at the Normal University. What do I have to fight a cartel that owns the entire local bureaucratic network?"

Guhai was silent for a moment, then walked back to the desk and picked up the deed.

"You don't need to fight the whole network," Guhai said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "You just need to do one thing. Tell Officer Desheng Wu that this copy of the deed is hidden in the 'Nan' section of the third shelf row in our Archive Room, tucked between the pages of the 19th box of old ledgers, specifically page 42. There is a special binding clip there; only insiders know how to open it."

Huangnan's eyes went wide, staring at Guhai in disbelief. "How do you know that?"

"Because I've been studying the fire records of the Archive Room." Guhai said it as if it were nothing, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That great fire destroyed the main archive storage, but not the backup depot. I found a gap in the old newspaper reports; there was a blank period after the fire where personnel entry records had been manually erased. I deduced the traffic flow of that time. That specific location was the only spot that was both hidden and unlikely to be found by a routine inspection."

Huangnan Chen fell silent. The sound of the rain thundered in his ears, like countless vengeful spirits whispering. He looked at Guhai, a complex light flickering in his eyes.

"If I tell you the location, Wenxiong Fan will send people to seal this place down immediately," Huangnan hissed. "Yulan Fan is working the night shift at the factory grounds. If they take her before we act, we lose our best witness forever. Her testimony is the only oral history from that night of the cultural relic theft that matches the timeline."

Guhai stared at him, his gaze sharp as a blade. "So, you have to get Yulan out and keep the evidence safe within two hours. Otherwise, we lose everything."

"Two hours?" Huangnan laughed bitterly. "How am I supposed to do that? I don't even have a gun, let alone any means of protecting a witness. The guards they send out are all armed."

"You don't need a gun." Guhai pulled a smartphone from his pocket. The screen glowed, displaying an interface for an encrypted communication app. "I've already contacted Officer Desheng Wu. He didn't mobilize the police directly because that would spook the snakes. But he arranged an 'accident.' In ten minutes, the substation near the factory will undergo an emergency maintenance check, causing a brief blackout. That is the only window we have."

Huangnan froze. He looked at Guhai, scrutinizing him like a stranger. "You actually... you took the risk of being tracked by surveillance to set this up in advance?"

"This isn't a trap, it's a gamble with our lives." Guhai pocketed the phone, his eyes firm. "I'm betting that Officer Desheng Wu still has his limits within the system, and I'm betting Wenxiong Fan never imagined a School Journal editor would have the guts to do this. If you don't trust me, call the cops now and let the higher-ups handle it. But if you do that, the truth will be sealed away permanently, and Yulan Fan will likely 'voluntarily' resign within a week and vanish for good."

Huangnan Chen clenched his jaw, his internal struggle feeling like walking on the edge of a blade. He thought of Yulan Fan's resilient, bloodshot eyes, and remembered the figure that had silently helped him organize old letters in the Archive Room.

"Fine." Huangnan Chen took a deep breath, the words squeezed through his teeth. "I trust you. But you have to come with me. I can't give the location of this deed to just anyone unless it's you. Because if something goes wrong, at least there will be someone there to prove I wasn't lying."

Guhai nodded and grabbed his jacket.

"Wait," Huangnan suddenly called out, his face pale. "In that copy of the deed, there's a note tucked inside. It was left by Yulan Fan's mother, that veteran employee. She wrote down one line: the specific model of the vehicle that was used to transport the relics out back then. If we go public with this, that line is the trigger. But once it's out there, Wenxiong Fan has no way out. He might burn it all down, taking everyone with him."

"Then let him have no way out." Guhai pushed open the door, and the cold rain instantly slapped his face. "Justice shouldn't have an escape route. Either we win, or we all sink together. I choose to win."

The two of them charged into the rain, their figures quickly vanishing into the dark, inky streets of Nha Trang.

...

Ten minutes later. Third Industrial Zone, Nha Trang.

The yellow police line glowed weirdly in the rain. The main gates of the Textile Factory were tightly shut, the iron fences rusted. Huangnan Chen and Guhai Li crouched in the shadow of an alley, rain dripping from their hair.

Guhai checked his watch. The hands pointed to 23:15.

"It's time." Guhai whispered.

In the distance, toward the substation, there was a dull thud of electricity cutting out. Immediately after, the lights of the entire industrial zone flickered and died, plunging the area into dead silence.

In the darkness, there was only the sound of rain and the faint wail of a police siren in the far-off distance.

"Yulan Fan is in the second-floor office." Huangnan pointed forward. "I just snapped a pic of the surveillance layout. There are no camera blind spots there, just two exits. One leads to the back yard, the other to the employee walkway. Wenxiong Fan's men are guarding the employee walkway. At least four of them."

Guhai analyzed the situation rapidly, his brain turning gears at high speed. As the editor of the School Journal, he was used to finding order in chaos. "The back yard is a dead end, leading straight to the wharf by the cliff. If we go through there, they might be waiting for us. The employee walkway is guarded, but that also means they think that's the safe zone."

"You want to go through the employee walkway?" Huangnan asked, surprised.

"No, I want to go through the place they 'think' is safe." A cold light flashed in Guhai's eyes. "Wenxiong Fan is extremely arrogant. He'll assume that in the darkness of a blackout, no one dares to get close to his core area. We'll disguise ourselves as maintenance workers and enter through the side gate. There's a ventilation duct there that leads directly to the backup archive storage."

Huangnan's eyes went wide. "You're crazy? That duct is full of rats and grease. And if we're caught, it's trespassing, and we can be arrested on the spot."

"Being arrested is better than Yulan Fan being silenced." Guhai adjusted his collar, tucking the deed copy close to his chest. "Remember, no matter what happens, don't resist. Your job is to get me, with that copy, to Officer Desheng Wu. Officer Desheng Wu will be waiting at the wharf. That's the final step."

Huangnan Chen clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. Looking at Guhai's determined profile, his fear was replaced by a kind of courage.

"Let's go."

The two of them rushed toward the side gate of the factory. The metal door let out a harsh screech in the rain. Guhai stopped, pulled a multi-function screwdriver from his pocket, and gently pried open the lock. His movements were quick and precise, making no extra noise.

The door opened.

A smell of dampness and mildew hit them. The corridor was pitch black, with only the faint green light of a "Exit" sign blinking in the distance.

"Stay close to me." Guhai whispered. "Every three steps, I will tap the wall. You tap back. If I don't tap, we stop."

They moved forward in the darkness. Guhai's back of hand slammed into the cold wall, the pain keeping him sharp.

Third step, tap.

Huangnan tapped.

Fifth step, stop.

Guhai stopped at the corner, raising his hand. In the distance, the sound of leather shoes splashing in puddle water could be heard, getting closer and closer.

"Damn it." Huangnan hissed, his voice nearly a sob. "They came back early."

Guhai listened intently, judging the direction. The sound was coming from the left, less than ten meters away.

"Hide in the nearest file cabinet." Guhai pointed to a tall metal cabinet nearby. "Keep the door just ajar. No matter what you see, hold your breath. Don't make a sound."

They squeezed into the narrow gap of the cabinet. The metal was ice-cold, the space suffocatingly tight. Guhai could hear Huangnan's rapid heartbeat, which sounded deafening in the darkness.

The sound of the leather shoes drew closer.

The choice, in this moment, was no longer something to be avoided.