Draw Me (Part 2)
I thought of the little game that Pingping and I had played. Sometimes players would enter a short story, temporarily take on the identity of a person in the story, and go through everything that person had experienced.
But because of this, the choices and interventions that players can make in the story are very limited. Because our responses and experiences cannot go beyond the original framework of the protagonist of the story, nor can we go to areas that the protagonist does not know or has not set foot on.
Now, I am in the prophet's terrifying drawing, which cuts and pieces the silhouettes of the past and then puts them together, making me walk through the story again.
Until the materials were used up, there was no suitable material to continue piecing together the story to complete the restoration, so it had to hang up the bloody heads of the mountain people and use their shriveled corpses to complete the subsequent performance, turning the quarrying map into a bloody ghost den.
I think, while traveling with Pingping, I was replacing some unknown gutless miner in the mine.
Perhaps "I" once hugged Pingping and persisted with her in despair, and once opened my eyes to give Pingping comfort and joy, but I still died after a brief moment of life.
Wang Yongfu's confirmation of my death was real, and the two skinny children being kicked and beaten until they were dying was also real.
Because of the premature death of the person who provided the perspective, I was unable to see the existence of other miners, nor any trace of their existence, and I couldn't even see where the departing mountain people went.
What disappeared suddenly was not the gutless miners and the mountain people, but the "I" as the observer.
After leaving the mine and arriving at the tent area, I took Wang Ping's place.
Pingping stopped me from going back to her several times. Perhaps the fundamental reason was that in the real experience, Wang Ping did not help her again. He just watched her enter the platform landfill alone, which might be full of dangers, and watched her discover the body that was supposed to be thrown into the mine.
As a stranger, the little kindness Wang Ping could offer was only short-lived.
He didn't come forward at that time, so I could only stand there for various reasons until I watched Pingping disappear into the darkness of the tent.
There is not enough material. In this quarrying picture, no one has ever made the move to go up and face the dangerous scene with her.
I stood there among these dried heads that were opening and closing in their conversation, and I couldn't help but feel a strong sense of helplessness and despair.
Where did those discussions between Pingping and I come from?
In an instant, I thought of a lot of things. I thought about how Pingping and I communicated without any obstacles, and how she tacitly used all kinds of expressions and default pronouns that I was accustomed to. She knew many nouns that she shouldn't have known when she passed away early; I thought about how she had discovered danger before me many times and rescued me, but my usual sensitivity to danger failed and I didn't notice it.
In the real experience, in the original and truly frozen quarrying picture, the story is probably not like this.
A picture emerged in my mind. I seemed to see the little girl named Goddess being pushed out by the mountain people. She was facing the mutated yellow rash man in the mine cart and the mountain people who were attacked by hair.
Those people had no mercy on her. Only the newcomer Wang Ping helped her and handed her a bag of expired potato chips.
Because no one helped, the goddess could only observe on her own. She probably had no one to discuss with, and the process of reaching the same guesses and conclusions was more difficult.
She was the only one who experienced those dangerous moments, so in this newly edited story, she was the only one who could discover them and remind me to avoid them, and she was the only one who could provide solutions to the problems.
In this play, the prophet cut and pasted away all the bitterness and terror of her exploration, and only condensed and simplified a smooth and seamless "main line" for me.
Just as she said, the goddess always dies and comes back to life. The former carves clues on her palms with her fingernails for the new goddess, and the latter reads how to deal with it from the scabs that have not yet healed.
In those real encounters, whether it was looking almost face to face at the yellow rash man, being confused and looking at the water marks on the dome, or the moment when hair crawled into the ear canal, the goddess was truly hurt and even experienced the change personally.
All the moments that I thought were lucky escapes, in the real past, were actually the resurrection of a new consciousness in the dead goddess' body, driving the goddess's drawing to move again.
Safety is the prophet's lie, which discards death as useless material.
Goddess...she is not my sister Pingping.
She was a real child who had suffered a lot and carried the past of many children who had died in silence.
But I don't know her, I don't know she exists, there is no connection between us.
Therefore, in the prophet's new quarrying map, the prophet cut and collected all my impressions of Pingping from me, even my fantasy that she would grow up smoothly after her death, and pieced them all together to cover the goddess.
I had no conversation with the child. She was the only one who muttered to herself twelve years ago, seeking answers and encouraging herself, while the screen in my mind whispered to me and made a distorted translation under the manipulation of the prophet.
So my Pingping would only call me Ranran, because in my only memory, there was no way for her to call me by a new name after she had grown up. There was also no way for us to reminisce and have more conversations after a long separation.
In the prophet's writing, there was too little material between us, just enough for us to pretend to talk about all the strange things in the quarry. It took out some of my doubts and speculations about this place, assigned them to Pingping, and split my collapsed soliloquy into characters to complete the dialogue.
She was created by the Goddess and I over a period of twelve years.
I should have thought of it earlier. Zhang Tianyi had already practiced it himself at the banyan tree. His wish, which would never come true, was to see our sister Xu Ping.
I thought he was the one who was obsessed and unwilling to accept the status quo, but I didn't expect that I was the one deceiving myself.
The confusion of emotions made me want to laugh all of a sudden, and tears started to flow first.
I don’t know if the sadness I feel at this moment is for Pingping or for the goddess I don’t know, maybe both.
But no matter which child it was, I was late. There was a twelve-year gap between me and them, so I couldn't play any role, nor could I alleviate their loneliness and loss even a little bit.
I suddenly remembered the question that Pingping had asked me about the death of the mountain people. Who was she asking twelve years ago, Wang Ping or herself? Did anyone answer her the same way I did? Did anyone comfort her, telling her not to condemn herself too much and not to torture herself for the premature knowledge of death?
It became very quiet all around.
The moment I stopped looking at the painting, the heads of the mountain people also stopped talking and just looked at me coldly.
I just felt that the blood in my body froze, and finally it turned into a strong thought. I wanted to know what else this goddess who briefly became my sister, this strange child, had experienced.
The prophet cannot produce non-existent material. In other words, in this scene, as long as I try my best to trigger it, all the information I can obtain is likely to be related to her, the mountain people, or the fake people.
No matter how it is cut and pasted, or how it is misplaced, what exists exists, and no one can erase it, not even the prophet. Even if many past events have been smeared into dirty ink blobs by the prophet, they will always exist in this quarrying map.
…It’s like an open world map, and all the scenes are there under the fog.
“Of course.”
I heard the heads of the mountain people say, using my memory, in a screen-like voice, "What do you want to know? Do you need my help?"
I remember this sentence. It was exactly what Pingping said to me with a smile when we were taking turns playing that cartridge game.
My tears started to flow again, and I seemed to be back to that ordinary afternoon in my childhood, when a cold little hand, which was already prone to night sweats, was holding my hand, and it seemed as if it was teaching me patiently like an adult how to complete that difficult and confusing game.
"The clues aren't that hard to find." Xu Ping said with some pride, "The patterns that don't belong to the background will bulge out if you look closely. Let's take them one by one."
"What's in the tent?"
I asked.
The expressions of the villagers suddenly became extremely fierce, staring at me. Wang Yongfu said viciously: "The mine is still sinking. Do you understand what this means?"
"The entire mine is like a solid ball, it is sinking into the ground at a huge speed, the soil and water below will keep squeezing in, and the pressure will become greater and greater!
- In the end, we will go 'bang' and be crushed into pulp along with the goddess statue. "
"We are here to look for treasure. We are here to find the bronze metal pillar that is said to be endless. I don't want to be buried with this broken stone statue, understand?"
A strange mountain dweller hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help his greed: "Isn't the sinking speed not that fast? Let's search for a while, and if it doesn't work, we can swim out from the exit."
Another voice chimed in, "Yes, at least we found the statue of the goddess. Even though it doesn't look like the child, it's so big that even if it's made of brass, it's an antique and worth a lot. Who knows what else is buried in the mine?"
I listened coldly, walked into the tent, and picked up the iron pipe that Pingping had dropped.
I randomly found a spot, took a deep breath, and started digging.
The groaning sound of heavy objects being crushed on the wooden plank road came again, like the worst movie that was using montage techniques to flash a scene from the past back to me, but because the image was missing it could not be reproduced, so only the audio message from the past could be played.
It's not the voice of fake people, it's the voice of the goddess.
The voice was a little hoarse, but still said calmly: "Did you hear that? The water pressure is already very high."
Then the scum whose throat Wang Yongfu had cut cursed angrily and seemed to be about to kick and hit her. Wang Ping, acting as a peacemaker, persuaded her a few times, sighed and asked, "What do you mean by that?"
"Didn't you notice that the color of the wooden partition outside the iron door of the only exit of the mine is getting darker? The tracks of the mine cart are also making noises."
Wang Ping was stunned for a moment. He must have some knowledge. He gasped and said in surprise, "Water is being squeezed outside? The wooden partition... Could it be that the wood was originally loose and was pressed more densely, so it's like the color has become darker."
Chaotic footsteps sounded immediately, and after a while, Wang Ping shouted: "The partition door seems to be getting smaller! What's going on? I can't push it open!"
"The water pressure outside is so strong, it's normal that it can't be pushed open." The goddess smiled and said, "You have done so many things, clearing out and replacing our entire village, and you don't even understand this?
It’s a good thing that the mine is sealed, so that the water won’t rush in so quickly and drown everyone. But since there is only one exit, it’s difficult to resist the water pressure and open it from the inside. ”
The man who was yelling and cursing immediately became manic, swearing at her. The goddess groaned, probably because she was injured.
But she didn't mean to beg for mercy. Instead, she gritted her teeth and smiled, saying softly, "You don't dare to really beat me to death."
A sense of sadness suddenly crept up my back as I realized that this was the real story behind what I had encountered when I woke up.
What surprised me was that Wang Yongfu actually asked:
"You reminded us, so there is a way?"
The goddess was silent for a while, then slowly said, "Yes, but I don't like this person. You can beat him up. Otherwise, just beat me to death."
Wang Yongfu smiled sinisterly, and the next second, the man suddenly ughed. Then, the sound of air deflated due to a cut trachea seemed to ring right next to my ear, which was creepy.
The goddess was probably also stunned. I don’t know whether she was frightened or confused, but Wang Yongfu’s cruelty of treating human life as nothing obviously caused everyone around him to fall into a brief silence.
After a while, I heard her take a deep breath, trembling a little, but still controlling her tone:
"I have a way for everyone to escape, but we still have about half an hour before that. Do you still want to continue mining?"
The mountain people hesitated for only a moment. Except for Wang Ping who felt vaguely uneasy and advised them to leave quickly, most of the mountain people were somewhat excited.
"So there really is a treasure?"
"Would I risk my life and die with you?" The goddess paused and said softly, "Make a decision soon. I'm very sleepy. If you don't dig, we can get out sooner."
Wang Yongfu was not so easy to talk to. Instead, he took two steps suspiciously. Then there was a very dull dragging sound, as if he was dragging another child's body.
"Isn't this kid dead?"
Wang Yongfu checked and suddenly laughed, "The intestines are gone, but there is still breath."
He said sinisterly: "If you play tricks--"
"Then both the child and I will die." The goddess continued. She endured for a moment, but after all, she was a child, and she seemed to be unable to control her sobs and resentment. "There are only two of us left to guard the mines in our village. For the sake of this child, I will not take any risks."
“See these traces of waterways on the surface? When our village was digging for the sacred tree, we used the buoyancy of flowing water to transport the excavated parts up.”
"It has been filled for many years now, and the original location of the sacred tree may have moved away. If you want to find the sacred tree, the most accurate way is to start digging from the old waterway."
“But we only have half an hour at most. If we still can’t find the sacred tree, I suggest you give up and run away.
Let me make it clear first. We have buried something similar to a pressure valve in the wall next to the wooden door. When it is turned on, water will come in, but the wooden partition and the iron door will be opened. At that time, the entire mine will sink rapidly and it will be impossible to find it again. "
Her words were still very convincing. The mountain people were obviously moved. They found engineer shovels and pushed the mine carts to start moving.
Wang Ping was still a little uneasy and said hesitantly:
"Brother Yongfu, I really think the so-called immortal goddess is very strange. You see, I have also analyzed it for you. The sudden appearance of the dead miner without intestines can all be explained. There is no need to fight for a person who is not sure whether he exists or not--"
He didn't finish his words, perhaps because he was afraid of Wang Yongfu, or perhaps because the enthusiasm of the people around him made him realize that his words were not making sense.
After a while, there was another dragging sound, but the movement was much lighter, as if Wang Ping returned the dying child to the goddess.
"Hey, don't hold on to her all the time. What if she dies later..." Wang Ping sighed, "Forget it."
Then there was a rustling sound, and he said reluctantly, "Want some potato chips? I found them in the corner, and I don't know who threw them here."
Then he realized that he had said the wrong thing and stopped.
The goddess was silent for a moment: "Don't touch those old mine carts."
"Ah? What?"
Wang Ping was stunned. “Isn’t the mine cart left by the previous people in your village? I see it’s just some stones and broken tools…” Before he could finish his words, his voice seemed to be cut off and he couldn’t say anything further.
"They will soon sit up." The goddess whispered with a strange meaning, "Thank you, but you moved into our village. I cannot forgive you."
The girl's voice, which had not yet completely changed, was very soft. I got goosebumps all over my body and suddenly understood what she was going to do.
“Hey.”
The iron pipe hit something hard, and I saw that under the ground I had dug was an iron ring from the top of a tent.
The tent was also bulging, with an ominous yellowish color seeping through the fabric and spilling out onto the ground. There was cement poured everywhere, firmly holding down the weirdly shaped tent that seemed to have something squeezed inside and trying to break free.
I started and swung the iron pipe to split it apart. The rusty iron pipe was quite uncomfortable to hold in my hand and it kept slipping after being soaked in sweat.
I don't know how much time had passed, but I could no longer tell which was which, my own digging sound or the sound of the villagers digging.
The iron pipe was shoveled onto the wood.
To be precise, it was an upright wooden board with a faint strange smell, the smell of a dead person.
The wooden boards surrounded the area on all sides, trapping the cement blocks used to build the tent inside.
Together with the wooden plank road on which the mine carts were pushed, it looked like a large square coffin.
If you only select a very small area to dig deep, it will probably be difficult to see its entire picture. You will only notice the appearance of cement, and at most you will find the wooden board at the bottom as you dig all the way down.
At this time, Wang Yongfu also hissed.
One of the villagers wondered, "Why do I feel like the dome is starting to seep water? Is the color getting darker? It looks like there's a water mark coming out."
This muttering was so light that he didn't seem to take it too seriously. Instead, he immediately asked excitedly:
"What the hell is this? Is there a tent buried underneath? What's hiding here that's so bulging?"
Wang Yongfu still had a trace of suspicion, and said coldly: "Give me the child, Goddess, and you go open the tent."
After a brief silence, the sound of the tent zipper being unzipped was very harsh. She only opened a small hole and said calmly: "Dig a little deeper, otherwise it will be sealed with cement. How can I open the curtain door and go in?"
Wang Yongfu did not give in, but just said: "You can get in, it won't be a big deal."
"I can't get in. It's hard to get things out with such a small opening." The goddess also said, "Time is running out. What are you dawdling about? Am I the one who will suffer the loss?"
The two of them were in a stalemate for half a minute, and Wang Ping tried to smooth things over. "I'll do it, I'll do it. There are only ten minutes left at most."
The other mountain people also laughed and went up to help.
A moment later, someone shouted, "Dead...dead people! There are corpses everywhere!"
With a clang, something was dropped to the ground by someone.
It seemed that the goddess picked up the thing, wiped it, and looked down: "Fog Horn? Health Center? Wang Ping?"
He smiled and handed the thing to the stunned Wang Ping: "It's destined to be with you, so I'll give it to you."
Perhaps because her performance was too natural, Wang Yongfu did not flinch in the face of so many corpses. Instead, he was certain of something and his breathing became rapid: "Is the thing I want among the corpses?"
"How else can you hide the treasure?"
The goddess asked back.
Wang Yongfu smiled: "There are still five minutes left. Let's go and take this child back to the exit. As for you - you go in and take the things out."
The sound of chaotic footsteps began to move. The goddess did not hesitate, she suddenly unzipped her clothes and got in with an ominous squeak.
I stopped digging, feeling sad.
Sure enough, two minutes later, the villagers began to knock on the wooden door and the wall next to it. Amid the muffled sound of the engineer's shovel, someone said in dissatisfaction:
"Why don't you come out? Open the pressure valve for us first."
"I'm not afraid of drowning together."
I don't know if the mountain people were still blinded by greed and still holding out hope, but there was no response from the goddess. Wang Ping was obviously feeling uneasy and wanted to go check it out.
"Where are you going?"
One of the villagers sneered, "I gave you a badge among the dead, do you really think you can tear off this dog skin?"
Wang Ping did not move, as if he finally understood something. After a while, he said calmly with some despair:
"Brother Yongfu, the child in your arms seems to be dead."
The mountain people were all stunned.
"I mean... that kid held on to his last breath until now, was it just to delay us for two more minutes?"
Wang Ping said, seeming to be completely confused, with a sense of collapse and hindsight: "Now that the hostages are dead, does the goddess have no reason to persist?"
Silence, a moment of silence.
Wang Yongfu shouted fiercely: "——What nonsense are you trying to say!"
The mountain people's conversation ended here. I heard the wooden plank road wailing violently, the sound of the cement seal cracking under pressure, and the sound of water pouring back from outside.
Then there were the screams of humans choking on water: "What the hell! Ah!"
"What's floating in the mine cart!"
"Hair! Aaaaah my ears!"
My feet felt a little cold, and I found that the water had really risen. The accumulated water came from nowhere and rose rapidly, soon swallowing up my calves.
There was a commotion all around, and I heard the fake people shouting in surprise: "Advisor?"
I unzipped my tent in the rising water.
In the pitch darkness, seven or eight badly decayed corpses floated up with the buoyancy of the force, their limbs tangled together. Their clothes were very old and simple, and they were not wearing any protective clothing. They looked like ordinary farmers, and their expressions were fixed in a kind of fear and resentment.
No one knew what kind of treatment had gone into the corpses, but there was a strange layer of tanned leather on the surface, which was a dull yellow color like oil, and it made people feel cold when they saw it.
They crowded together, hugging a huge dark blue statue. The statue was very ferocious, with many strange limbs extending out, as if waving in the water, waiting to grab something.
A very thin corpse, completely rotten, lay between the statue's limbs, held up by it, as if curled up in exhaustion and waiting for something.
I seemed to sense something, and gently reached out my hand and touched the smooth head of the corpse.
There was a rotten piece of cloth in the empty abdomen of the corpse. I didn't dare open it for fear of damaging it.
Someone swam to my side. The accumulated water had reached my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe.
The man forced an oxygen mask onto my face. He seemed to have a lot of questions, but after looking at me, he said, "Let me do it."
I was exhausted and nodded, watching Sanyi carefully take out a small pair of tweezers from the waist bag he carried with him.
“It’s like a stick figure drawing.”
He lowered his head and said, "It's already blurred and I can't make out the content." Then he said, "There's also a signature."
I moved my mouth and looked at him in confusion. I had a lot of questions in my mind that I wanted to ask him, but when my eyes moved to the signature, I was suddenly struck by thunder.
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