I sat on the ground, catching my breath, and shone my flashlight around. This warehouse was quite large, filled with piles of supplies. How could such a big space go unnoticed outside? After calculating the direction and distance I had run, it suddenly dawned on me that the hillside on the west side of Wild Man Valley had been completely hollowed out to create an underground fortress. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Japan had poured its national strength into Manchuria, establishing heavy industrial bases to support the war effort, especially after the U.S. air raids on the Japanese homeland. Manchuria became Japan’s strategic rear, and to strengthen defenses—particularly against the Soviet Union to the north—the Kwantung Army built countless underground fortresses as permanent defensive structures.
Although this area belonged to Inner Mongolia, it was also under Japanese occupation at the time. The Japanese high command believed that defending Manchuria was more important than defending Mongolia, just as it was crucial to guard the riverbanks. Therefore, it was only natural to establish defensive facilities along the border of Manchuria and Mongolia.
Heifengkou was a key battleground. If the Soviet army advanced from the grasslands, this would be a necessary route. However, the Soviets ultimately chose to attack from the Manchurian side, rendering this carefully constructed underground fortress strategically meaningless. It was likely that the soldiers stationed here received the Emperor’s message about unconditional surrender via radio, leading to a collapse in morale—some committed suicide, while others fled.
Fatty got up, rubbing his sore backside after the fall in the tomb. He tore two pieces of cloth from his clothes and asked Yingzi to help bandage his wounds. He was in pain all over and cursed the red-haired monsters outside.
Fatty pulled out two jade discs he had pried from the ancient corpse’s hands. “I won’t return these. If you want them back, bring me twenty thousand yuan. If you don’t have cash, food stamps will do. Hey, Old Hu, what do you think about this jade?”
I took a look. The originally emerald-green jade discs had now turned a pale yellow. I couldn’t explain why this happened, and I realized my knowledge and experience were quite limited. I had felt a bit overconfident recently, but now I knew I needed to keep learning.
However, we had already taken these items, and worrying about it was pointless. I stood up and called to the two of them, “Let’s go inside and see if there are any weapons or ammunition. It would be great if we could find a tank to crush those red-haired monsters into pancakes.”
Fatty asked me, “Do you have any military knowledge? There can’t be any tanks in here.”
I replied, “Let’s go in and see. Even if there were tanks, they probably wouldn’t work after nearly forty years. Even with daily maintenance, they would have long been out of service.”
The passages inside the underground fortress were complex and maze-like. To avoid getting lost, we kept close to the walls as we searched for an exit.
The tunnels and storage areas of the underground fortress had high, arched ceilings, designed to prevent water seepage. Shining my flashlight upward, I could see emergency lights and various pipes installed above. If we could find a generator, we might be able to get those lights working.
Not far in, we spotted a map of the fortress on the wall. It marked key passages, trenches, warehouses, soldier quarters, showers, rest areas, food storage, drainage pipes, and power stations. However, important locations like gun positions, ventilation shafts, firing ports, observation posts, command rooms, and hiding spots were not indicated. Inside the hillside, the fortress was divided into three levels, showcasing the Kwantung Army’s significant investment in this military base.
I took the map off the wall. With my experience as an engineer building military facilities in the Kunlun Mountains, having this map in hand meant we wouldn’t have trouble finding an exit.
The scale of this secret underground fortress exceeded my imagination. It extended thirty kilometers deep, with a defensive width of over sixty kilometers. The hillsides on both sides of Wild Man Valley had been completely hollowed out, forming two interconnected permanent defensive structures. Three passages ran through Wild Man Valley, linking the fortresses on either side. The underground passage we entered from the ancient tomb was the lowest of these three.
The fortress was wider at both ends and narrower in the middle. While the sides were large, only three passages connected them. This might have been a tactical consideration; if one side of the fortress was breached by the enemy, they could still cut off access to the other side and hold their ground.
From our position, the nearest exit wasn’t too far away, but I wondered if the KKwantung Army had destroyed the exits during their retreat. If not, we might have to return through the ancient tomb or try to crawl out through a ventilation shaft. Suddenly, I recalled what happened last night on the hillside—our horses were torn apart by a creature from an underground cave. Could that cave have been a ventilation shaft for the fortress? Had that unknown creature used its claws to enlarge the hole for shelter? If that hole was indeed a ventilation shaft, we shouldn’t expect to crawl out; it was too narrow, and it was clear that the creature was not the massive red-haired monster we had encountered earlier.
I shared my thoughts with Yingzi and Fatty, asking them to help figure out our next move to get out.
Fatty said, “Hey, Old Hu, if you hadn’t mentioned it, I would have forgotten. The creature that attacked our horses might have made this underground fortress its home. If we keep wandering around in here, we might run into it. We need to find some weapons for self-defense first.”
I agreed, “Exactly, it’s better to be prepared. If the exit is destroyed, we’ll have to crawl out through the hole where we come in, and that means facing the red-haired monster again. There should be an area in the storage for weapons; let’s see if we can find something useful. It would be great to find some Japanese hand grenades; those have a long shelf life and decent power, perfect for dealing with that creature.”
The storage area was filled with various military supplies like overcoats, blankets, dry batteries, lunch boxes, and gas masks. The dry air had kept the supplies in good condition. I grabbed a few Japanese Springfields gas masks and stuffed them into my bag. Finally, we found the section where weapons were stored on the right side of the storage area.
There were several wooden crates stacked on a metal rack, filled with firearms. No machine guns, just a bunch of Arisaka rifles, commonly known as the “Type 38” or “Three-Eight.” There were also a few 60mm mortars against the wall, but no shells nearby.
Fatty pried open a crate containing rifles, grabbed one, and with a loud click, pulled back the bolt. He shone his flashlight into the chamber and said, “Old Hu, this gun still works. They’re all brand new and unopened, with the mechanical parts oiled and never fired.”
Yingzi and I each took a rifle as well. I lifted the Arisaka rifle to aim but tossed it back. “This outdated gun only holds five rounds, and it’s a manual bolt-action. Reloading is too slow, and the recoil is heavy. I can’t get used to it.”
Yingzi asked, “But this gun is powerful! My uncle used one when he first joined the Northeast Democratic United Army. Why don’t you like it?”
Before I could answer, Fatty chimed in, “Don’t mind him. He plays with semi-automatic weapons every day in the army, so he’s gotten used to them. Of course, he looks down on this old-fashioned rifle. If we run into any monsters later, we’ll just stand behind him and watch him try to handle it without any weapons.” As he spoke, he found an ammunition box on the bottom shelf. He opened it to reveal bullets wrapped in oilcloth, shining like gold in the flashlight’s beam. Fatty’s father had spoiled him since childhood, letting him play with guns as soon as he could walk. By the time he was in middle school, he was already an expert with firearms. Although he had never used an Arisaka rifle before, the mechanics were similar to other rifles, so he quickly loaded bullets into the rifle, expertly chambered a round, and aimed it at me.
I quickly pushed his gun away. “Don’t aim a loaded gun around like that! The muzzle shouldn’t be pointed at your comrades. Only traitors point their guns at their own people. I don’t like using this rifle because the Type 38 isn’t suitable for close combat. Its bullets have too much penetration power; at thirty meters, one shot can go through three or four people. Unless you’re using a bayonet for close quarters, it’s easy to hit your own side. Plus, the underground fortress has many steel structures. If a bullet hits a steel plate, it can ricochet unpredictably, and instead of hitting the enemy, you might end up injuring your own people.”
Fatty confidently patted his chest and said, “With our shooting skills, come on! After all these years, you should know we can hit anything. Hitting a target from a hundred paces is like a game for us. How could we miss and hit a steel plate? If you don’t believe me, let’s balance an egg on your head and see…”
I interrupted him, “The more you talk, the more ridiculous it gets. Do you think it’s easy to have a head like mine? This head is for thinking about life, not for balancing an egg as a target for you. Can we stop this nonsense and see if there are any other weapons we can use? I just feel like this rifle isn’t the right choice. After all, it’s an outdated weapon that’s been retired for years. Old rifles can easily misfire. When I was on the front lines in Vietnam, a laborer who helped transport supplies stole an old German rifle from the Vietnamese militia we captured. While climbing a mountain, it misfired and ended up breaking the waist of one of our deputy commanders. This isn’t a joke.”
We pried open the boxes on the rack one by one, hoping to find some hand grenades. To our surprise, we uncovered a dozen submachine guns in a wooden crate marked with a patch. The guns had a strange design, somewhat resembling the British Sten gun, but unlike the Sten, these had curved magazines inserted on the left side and featured a wooden stock at the back.
Yingzi asked me, “Brother Hu, what kind of gun is this? Why does it look like that? Is it a ‘side-handle’?”
I pulled back the bolt of the submachine gun and removed the magazine to take a look. “This is probably the Japanese Type 100 submachine gun. It was issued to troops late in the war and produced in smaller quantities, so it’s not very common. It was likely designed to counter the Soviet forces. This gun is much better than the Type 38, especially for close combat. Even if it jams, it just gets stuck; it won’t misfire or go off accidentally. You and Fatty should stop using rifles and take these submachine guns for self-defense.”
Yingzi had never used a submachine gun before and didn’t know how to handle it. She held two flashlights to illuminate the area while Fatty found a box of submachine gun ammunition. Together, we started loading bullets into the magazines.
I hummed a little tune as I pressed the bullets into the magazine one by one. I was in a great mood; it felt like I had hit the jackpot. Ever since I left the army, I hadn’t touched a submachine gun. Remembering the feeling of using the Type 56 in the army made my palms itch with excitement. Just as I was feeling pleased with myself, Yingzi suddenly tapped my shoulder and whispered, “Brother Hu, I think… I just saw a child run past you.”
A child? How could that be? This deep mountain forest was rarely visited by people, and this secret fortress was hidden so well. How could a child suddenly appear out of nowhere?
We were all crouched down loading bullets, and Yingzi was squatting across from me with her flashlight. She had accidentally swept the light behind me and caught a glimpse of a child’s figure flashing by.
I turned my head and shone the flashlight around. Behind me was a T-shaped passage, dark and eerily quiet. There was no sign of any child. I asked Yingzi, “What child? Are you seeing things?”
Although Yingzi was bold, she was still a girl from the mountains, steeped in superstitions. Her face had turned pale with fear. “I really didn’t imagine it! There was a child who ran past you in the passage. I couldn’t be mistaken. There were no footsteps, just a flash of a child’s figure—so fast, it zipped by! Could it be a ghost?”
When I pressed her for details, she couldn’t explain much. She thought it looked like a little girl, but she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t see what the child was wearing, but estimated the child was about five or six years old. The direction the child ran toward was exactly where the map indicated an exit.
The passage was only about two meters away from me. In such a quiet place, a child running by should have made some noise. It was too silent, almost as if it were a ghost. The underground fortress was a world cut off from the outside; no one had been here for decades. Who knew what was hidden inside? Today had already been chaotic enough; it was better to avoid trouble if we could. If we couldn’t confront it, we could at least avoid it.
I suggested we take a longer route to the exit from the other side and not go through the passage where the child had run.
Yingzi, who was most afraid of ghosts, nodded in agreement. “Climbing an extra ten miles is better than running into a ghost.”
Fatty scoffed, “Old Hu, I’ve noticed you’ve changed. Ever since you got back from the army, you don’t seem as fearless as before. This hesitation isn’t like you. Why do you want to take a detour just because Yingzi saw a child run by? If you want to go around, you two can, but I’m not going to. I’ll take the shortcut. Remember when we were Red Guards, going up to the mountains and down to the countryside? Did you ever say you were afraid of anything? Back then, aside from Chairman Mao, who did we fear?”
I was momentarily at a loss for words. Fatty was right; I had changed. In the past, I faced everything head-on, but after joining the army and witnessing the sacrifices of my comrades during the Vietnam War, I had seen bloodshed and death countless times. To be honest, I had become a bit more cautious, second-guessing myself in everything I did. Had the passage of time really taken away my courage and boldness?
I replied to Fatty, “We’re not as young as we used to be. Those days as Red Guards were filled with reckless bravery. We fought anyone we didn’t like, but that was a ridiculous time. Looking back now, it seems both laughable and sad.”
Fatty said, “But at least during that time, you fought and charged into battle. I can’t stand seeing you like this now, all scared and hesitant. Do you remember the long poem I wrote in the notebook I gave you for your sixteenth birthday?”
That notebook was probably long gone, and over the years, Fatty had given me many notebooks since his mom worked in logistics and had plenty of them. I honestly couldn’t recall any long poem.
(…)
Yingzi, seeing that Fatty and I were going on and on, and not understanding what we were talking about, grew impatient and interrupted us. “What are you two going on about? Why is this taking so long? It’s getting late. No matter which way we go, we should get moving. Can you two save the chatter for after we get out?”
Fatty picked up the Type 100 submachine gun, strapped four or five magazines to his waist, and with a determined expression, pointed ahead. “Comrades, victory is just ahead! Follow me!”
So, Fatty led the way, with Yingzi in the middle and me bringing up the rear. We formed a line and headed toward the passage where Yingzi had seen the child run by. The path sloped slightly upward, and after walking over a hundred meters, it turned into stairs, indicating we were entering the hillside of Wild Man Valley.
The passage grew narrower, and the humidity increased compared to below. Breathing became difficult, and I felt a sense of suffocation, as if we were being buried alive.
The three of us were close together, but for some reason, Fatty, who was in front, suddenly stopped. He halted so abruptly that Yingzi, who was following him, wasn’t prepared and bumped into his back. She stumbled backward down the stairs, and I quickly reached out to catch her. I asked Fatty, “What’s going on? Why did you stop?”
Fatty turned around and shouted, “Run back!” He seemed to have seen something terrifying ahead, and his voice had changed; the bravado he had just shown was gone.
As Fatty yelled for us to turn and escape, I could only see a limited area in front of me due to the flashlight’s beam. I noticed a large space beyond the stairs, but I couldn’t tell what Fatty had seen. Since he was so adamant, I figured there must be a good reason, so I prepared to backtrack.
At that moment, I suddenly felt dozens of icy steel needles prick my back, sending a chill through my bones. It felt like a cold electric current coursing through me, causing my body to tremble and lose control. I leaped forward uncontrollably, and with surprising force, I pushed both Fatty and Yingzi ahead of me. The narrow, dark passage sloped upward, and the three of us tumbled into the void at the end of the stairs.
I was inexplicably jolted by a shock, and it seemed the current had also affected the other two, leaving us all shivering uncontrollably. None of us knew what was happening, and we wanted to speak but couldn’t make a sound. If it were a case of accidentally touching a live wire, we would have felt a tingling sensation all over, but this was a cold that penetrated to the marrow.
Fortunately, the three loaded submachine guns didn’t misfire in the chaos. As we lay on the ground, our flashlights still on, I finally understood why Fatty had turned to run. We had stumbled into a massive stone chamber, half natural and half man-made, covered in green moss, with damp stone walls and countless large bats hanging from the ceiling. These bats were much larger than the ordinary ones we usually saw, densely packed with their wings wrapped around each other. Startled from their slumber by our intrusion, they all awoke, revealing their sharp, white fangs, sending chills down my spine.
The bats had strange faces, with large diamond-shaped ears, round heads, and round noses. Their forelimbs were exceptionally developed, with long upper arms, forearms, and finger bones, ending in sharp claws. I had seen such large bats before when I was an engineer in the Kunlun Mountains. They were scientifically known as the “leaf-nosed bat,” also called the “pig-faced bat.” These creatures were notorious for being bloodthirsty and carnivorous, one of the most vicious species of bats. They preferred to live in underground caves in pastoral areas, hunting livestock like cattle and sheep at night. They had once become a plague in the grasslands of Outer Mongolia, but in recent years, they had become quite rare.
I had thought they were extinct, but it turned out that so many pig-faced bats had made the abandoned underground fortress of the Kwantung Army their home. They roosted here during the day and used the fortress’s ventilation shafts as exits, making it a safe and comfortable nest.
A few pig-faced bats had already swooped down from the stone walls. I struggled to get up, but as soon as I pushed off the ground, I slipped and fell. The ground was covered in bat droppings and animal remains, reeking of a foul odor and slick with filth. Bat droppings, also known as “night bright sand,” were a precious traditional Chinese medicine, but seeing it now was utterly disgusting.
I gave up on trying to get up and instead tightened my finger on the trigger, firing the Type 100 submachine gun at the flying pig-faced bats. As soon as I opened fire, the other two reacted, and we all began to shoot in a crossfire. The flames from the gun muzzles and the tracer bullets illuminated the entire stone chamber in flashes of light and shadow. The sounds of gunfire, the clattering of spent cartridges, and the chaos of our shooting mixed together in a cacophony.
Thousands of pig-faced bats were startled into action. These creatures, which thrived in darkness, were terrified of fire and light. Aside from those shot down and falling to the ground, the rest swarmed around us like a dark cloud, some flying overhead while others escaped through the ventilation shafts.
The ammunition in my submachine gun quickly ran out, and I didn’t have time to reload. The bats swooped past us, their sharp claws and fangs tearing at our clothes. Fortunately, we were wearing thick clothing, so while I sustained some injuries, they weren’t too deep.
At that moment, the psychological fear was even more overwhelming. Afraid of injuring my eyes, I kept them shut, using one hand to shield my head and face while swinging the empty submachine gun like a club, desperately kicking and flailing my legs to fend off the attacking bats.
I don’t know how long it took, but the cave gradually fell silent. It seemed the pig-faced bats had all fled. I felt around for the flashlight that had fallen to the ground, and just as I was about to ask Fatty and Yingzi if they were hurt, darkness suddenly enveloped me. A massive pig-faced bat swooped silently toward my head. It was likely the leader of the bats, having hidden deep within the cave, now launching a surprise attack with its wings spread wide, filling the space.
With only an empty gun and a flashlight in my hands, I was defenseless. The bat was so close that I could see the folds of its pig-like face, its coarse hair, and sharp fangs clearly. Just as it was about to bite me, I heard a series of gunshots from beside me. A stream of bullets struck the pig-faced bat, causing it to fall to the ground, flapping its wings a few times before dying.
It turned out that Fatty, seeing the urgent situation, had reloaded and opened fire, saving my life. I let out a sigh of relief and looked around. Aside from a few bats on the ground that had been shot but were still struggling, there were no more bats in sight.
I had several scratches on my body, and blood was flowing. Yingzi and Fatty had also sustained minor injuries, but nothing serious. Yingzi tore some fabric from her clothes to help bandage my wounds.
The pain from my injuries was intense, and I couldn’t help but curse. “Back in the day on the front lines, I faced gunfire and explosions without getting a scratch, and now these beasts have left me with so many cuts… it really hurts.”
Fatty asked, “Old Hu, I told you to run back, so why did you end up pushing us forward instead?”
I recounted what had just happened, saying that my back might have brushed against exposed wires and I got shocked. I didn’t dare tell them the real situation because I found it hard to believe myself. I asked Yingzi to check my back for any burns. She lifted my shirt and shone her flashlight on it. “Oh my gosh, Brother Hu, what happened? This doesn’t look like an electric burn.”
Fatty leaned in to take a look. “Did you really get shocked? There’s a black handprint on your back. Hmm… it’s a small hand, like a child’s.”
This is just too bizarre. Are we three being led into this bat cave by a little ghost? I hope I don’t see it; if I do, I’ll skin it alive.
Just as Fatty was about to say something, his flashlight fell to the ground. “Oh my god, Old Hu, Yingzi, I didn’t believe you when you said it, but just now… I saw a child run past.”
Yingzi and I quickly picked up the flashlight and shone it around. Besides bat droppings and bat corpses, there was no sign of any child.
Fatty swore, “It ran right past you! I’m not lying, I swear! It ran inside. I saw it clearly—a little boy, about five or six years old, wearing all green, with a very pale face… not like a living person.”
Everyone but me had seen a child in this underground fortress. Why didn’t I see it? But that handprint on my back was enough to give anyone chills. Fatty said he saw a boy, while Yingzi claimed she saw a girl in the storage room. Who was mistaken? Or is there a kindergarten down here?
After tidying up a bit, we stood up and loaded new magazines into our submachine guns. Fatty pointed to a wall in the stone chamber. “That little brat ran in here.” He then scraped away the moss and bat droppings with his gun butt, revealing a half-open iron door, rusty and marked with large red characters: “No Entry.”
“‘No—Entry’,” Fatty read the words aloud and said to us, “This must be a morgue, or maybe an incinerator.”
Yingzi responded to Fatty’s explanation, “What? So it’s for storing dead bodies? I’ve heard older folks in the village talk about the Japanese setting up incinerators. This iron door probably leads to one.”
I knocked on the iron door with my knuckles and felt how heavy it was. “Fatty, don’t pretend to know what you don’t. I may not understand Japanese, but I’m familiar with military facilities. Look, there’s a large groove at the bottom of the door with hexagonal threads inside. This suggests there’s a rotating mechanism. To open this iron door, you need to turn the dial. The hole at the bottom is a vent; this is an airtight door. When the iron door closes, the vent will automatically draw out the air inside, creating a semi-vacuum environment. It’s a place for storing valuable items, and similar facilities exist in our military bases.”
The rotating mechanism of the airtight door had long been removed. Without the right tools, opening this iron door would be nearly impossible. As for what was stored in the secret room, it was hard to say. It could be chemical or biological weapons, which was the most likely scenario. To prevent accidents from chemical leaks, such materials are usually kept in sealed rooms like this.
The Japanese chemical and biological weapons, while infamous, were still quite powerful. Even after many years in the environment, they could still be deadly. I wasn’t interested in what was behind that door; I just wanted to focus on the map and find the exit as quickly as possible.
Fatty, on the other hand, was very curious about the door. After I mentioned the possibility of valuable items being inside, he and Yingzi couldn’t contain their excitement. They took turns knocking and kicking the door, determined to find a way in. They muttered, “What good stuff could be inside? It’s so frustrating not being able to see!”
I ignored them and continued to compare the exit location on the map. According to the terrain depicted, there should be a small passage connecting to the exit at the mountain top within this cave.
After searching, I only found a large area of collapsed rocks at one end of the cave. Just as I suspected, the Japanese had blown up the exit when they retreated.
Right above us was likely where we had set up our tent on the hillside of Wild Man Valley. With my flashlight, I could see several large holes in the cave’s ceiling. These ventilation shafts weren’t straight up and down; they were curved to prevent enemies from attacking the interior. Bats flew in and out through these openings. Unfortunately, we didn’t have wings, and even if we could get up there, it wouldn’t help. An adult body was just too big for those ventilation shafts. The Japanese were clever, making the openings just the right size to keep enemies from crawling in.
I called Fatty and Yingzi over and told them the exit was blocked. We could either search for another exit or head back to the ancient tomb and deal with the red monster. We couldn’t just waste time here. We didn’t have any food, and there was no sign of supplies in the Japanese fortress. If we kept wandering around, we’d end up too weak to move and would just have to wait to die.
Yingzi kicked a dead bat on the ground. “If it comes to that, we can eat this thing. It’s all meat.”
Fatty quickly shook his head. “You can eat it if you want, but I’d rather starve. That’s just disgusting. The meat is probably rotten or sour. It won’t taste good at all. By the way, Old Hu, do you think this iron door could be the exit? There’s a chance, right? We should find a way to open it and check.”
I thought for a moment and replied, “That’s a possibility. The map doesn’t mark this secret room, only a passage leading to the exit. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly, so we can’t be sure if there’s a passage behind this door. Actually, opening it shouldn’t be too difficult. I saw some tools in the storage room; we can look for a suitable hex wrench.”
Yingzi chimed in, “Going back to the storage room is a good idea. We can grab some clothes to change into.”
Her reminder made us realize how dirty we all were. Our clothes, hair, faces, and hands were covered in bat droppings, blood, and mud, and we smelled terrible.