When Cen Qi'an slapped the observation window with his bloodied palm, the people outside were still trying to pry open the jammed iron door.
Through the thick, wire-reinforced glass, they saw him kneeling beside a metal table, his lips moving as he called for them to open the door in broken, halting bursts. By the time they finally got inside, he had stopped answering. On the floor, not far from his briefcase, lay half of a bloodstained cast-iron pipe coupling.
Seven years ago, an accident took place at this abandoned underground station. Four workers went deep underground to rescue those trapped there, but none of them ever came back. Yet in the investigation report that followed, they were described as having returned to work without authorization. The area where people had continued calling for help until the very end had already been recorded as cleared.
Seven years later, several people involved in the incident returned to the old station to deal with a batch of remaining files. One wanted to retrieve the order to seal the entrance. Another was desperate to take away a particular record. Someone else had kept things that should have been destroyed long ago.
Cen Qi'an's death threw everyone's plans into disarray.
The torrential rain outside had caused a landslide, and rescuers were clearing the blocked exit. Those underground were waiting to get out, but first they had to figure out who had gone through the back door of the observation room, and who had touched the scattered files.
As a second person fell, the time erased from the records of the accident seven years ago, the testimony that had been altered, and the pleas for help that had never been answered began to resurface before them.
Some people really never killed anyone with their own hands.
They just happened to hear when someone needed help.
Theme: The truth will not disappear just because people stay silent. Everyone should take responsibility for their choices.
