Chapter 24

Only Zhao Ying still felt that Jiang Shan gave her a deep sense of dread. Just looking at that blank, expressionless face made her skin crawl. The problem was—who could face the world as it was now and show no emotion?!
That didn’t seem human.
Zhao Ying found herself drifting even farther from the storage entrance.
Wei Yuan’s torch lit one direction. Something in the air seemed to block the light and the view; the beam only reached a small area. You had to strain to make things out. “That should be a box of supplies.”
Jiang Shan could see a faint outline in the corner too. The dark, cramped space was unsettling. But when Wei Yuan glanced at her, he saw her dutifully searching within the weak circle of light.
She walked to what seemed to be the supply box. She reached out—she could have sworn she felt the shape of a box—but her hand closed on nothing. There was nothing there.
She was surprised too.
She had definitely seen something in that corner. Her eyes hadn’t lied. But her hand…
She suddenly felt it wasn’t that there was nothing—she had caught something. Only it was very, very light. Her hand had closed on a handful, but through the glove it was as if she had grasped nothing.
Her breath stopped. She instinctively wanted Wei Yuan to shine the light.
But for some reason, the moment Jiang Shan went still in the corner, he seemed to realize something. He switched off the torch.
That was the last chance for Jiang Shan to see what was in the corner.
“Some things… are better left unseen.”
Wei Yuan’s voice was low.
Jiang Shan stood in the corner for a long time without moving. Then Wei Yuan turned the torch on again—but deliberately aimed the beam elsewhere.
“Come. Let’s search somewhere else.”
His tone brooked no argument. A bit like when he had told the others in the tent that they were taking Jiang Shan with them.
Jiang Shan was silent. She slowly walked toward the light, to Wei Yuan’s side.
When she came over Wei Yuan relaxed a little. The priority was to find the refuelling tools and get out. He shone the torch in the opposite direction. “Let’s look over there.”
He didn’t notice that Jiang Shan’s one hand was still slightly clenched—as if she was holding something in her palm.
Several metal drums stood along the wall. In the dim light you could only see the outline. Wei Yuan held the torch; sometimes he swept it quickly over a spot and turned away before Jiang Shan could see what was there.
“This way.” Wei Yuan kept leading.
Jiang Shan followed in silence the whole time. She didn’t question him, so he didn’t pay her much more attention.
The torch flickered twice—as if the connection was loose. Wei Yuan stayed calm. He picked up another torch, switched it on, and lit an area they hadn’t searched yet.
At last he saw a toolbox with a symbol on it.
A flicker crossed his eyes. “A-Shan, bring that over.”
Jiang Shan didn’t move at first. To go get the toolbox she would have to let go of her fist. So she turned her palm up and, in the back-glow of the torch, opened the hand she had kept clenched.
In her palm, something black floated—light and soft. Only then did she believe she had really been holding something.