As the rail car sped down the steep slope, Wan San felt himself nearly lifted out of his seat, his body hurtling downward while his hair dangled straight in front of his face. His hands, gripping the handles tightly, were so numb and sore they could barely support his weight.
On the verge of tears, Wan San yelled, “Stop the car! Stop it now! Let me fasten the seatbelt!”
Wang Cang Hai sighed audibly in the dark and reluctantly pulled the brake.
A sharp screech of mechanical friction echoed through the narrow tunnel, and the Pangolin Rail Car, which had been darting like a crazed rat, came to an abrupt halt. Silence enveloped the surroundings, broken only by Wan San’s labored breathing, which echoed down the passage.
Wan San shakily released his sweat-soaked hands from the handles and fumbled under his seat and around his lower back, finally finding the leather seatbelt. With trembling hands, he fastened it around his waist and secured the buckle.
Hearing the faint click of the buckle, Wang Cang Hai asked, “Are you done?”
“Wait,” Wan San replied hastily. He wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve, then removed the gold ring from his tied-up hair. In the dark, he clumsily retied his hair into a bun, stuffing it securely so it wouldn’t fly around anymore.
“What’s taking you so long?” Wang Cang Hai asked impatiently. “There’s still a long way to go. I’m hungry and want to get down for a meal.”
Wan San snapped back irritably, “Who rushes down into the eighteenth level of hell to eat?”
Wang Cang Hai, taken aback by Wan San’s outburst, softened his tone. “Third Brother, are you upset?”
Hmph, Wan San thought. He’s six years younger than me, always calling me ‘Master Wan,’ but suddenly switches to ‘Third Brother’ to sweet-talk me when he needs something. Still just a twenty-year-old kid, barely grown. Wan San sighed internally, reflecting that while Wang Cang Hai could be cold and intense, he was ultimately loyal and trustworthy. His eccentric inventions and experiments stemmed from genuine curiosity, but his busy schedule left him with few friends willing to indulge his whims. Fine, I’ll humor the kid and play along for now.
Taking a few deep breaths, Wan San replied, “I’m not upset. Just keep driving.”
Instead of immediately starting the Pangolin Rail Car, Wang Cang Hai patiently explained, “Half a year ago, I discovered an ancient tomb beneath this desert. There’s no coffin inside, only items buried by a heartbroken woman in memory of her lover. Among them is a uniquely designed set of musical instruments. The melodies they produce are hauntingly beautiful, filled with sorrow and longing. I thought you’d appreciate seeing and hearing them.”
Wan San’s mood lightened considerably. “Alright, let’s go.”
With that, Wang Cang Hai released the brake and, perhaps sensing Wan San’s earlier impatience, spun the wheel three full turns to accelerate the car.
The Pangolin Rail Car surged downward at an even more terrifying speed, the sharp turns along the way creating a bone-rattling sensation that made Wan San feel as if his soul were leaving his body.
“Aaaaaaahhhhh!” Wan San screamed as the car took a nearly vertical dive into a massive turn, his voice echoing through the tunnel. “Wang Cang Hai! You maniac! Aaaaaaahhh! I’m going to dieeeee!”
The car then careened through a series of four consecutive sharp turns, so intense that tears were flung from Wan San’s eyes.
Just as Wan San was about to pass out from sheer terror, they finally arrived at the ancient tomb deep beneath the desert.
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