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墨書 Inktalez
The next day, it was unclear how Duan Zhang managed to communicate with the prison guards, but a few of them came to escort Lu Fei Fan and Duan Zhang out of their cell. As they left, Duan Zhang deliberately nodded at Lu Fei Fan, reassuring him that he would accompany him with the guards.
Lu Fei Fan and the others followed the guards through several iron gates, arriving at a dimly lit cell on the basement level. The atmosphere was much darker here, with some walls even damp to the touch. Lu Fei Fan deduced that they were indeed in an underground prison, as eerie cries and howls echoed intermittently. He noticed that these cells seemed isolated, housing individuals of unusual backgrounds.
He and Duan Zhang were brought to the end of the corridor, where a large, special cell awaited them. This cell was enclosed by iron bars and was quite spacious, qualifying it as a unique room.
After exchanging a few words with Duan Zhang, the guards opened the cell door. Without looking back, they left, shutting the main gate of this section of the prison behind them.
From outside, Lu Fei Fan observed the interior of the cell. There was a figure sitting with their back to them, their long, disheveled white hair cascading down like a tangled mess.
"One-Armed, I've brought you someone," Duan Zhang said from outside the cell, his tone lacking enthusiasm.
At that moment, the elderly man inside suddenly turned to glance at them. Lu Fei Fan was taken aback by the man's terrifying appearance; his face bore several deep scars as if something had clawed at him, marring half of his features and giving him a grotesque look. Even more shocking was that his other hand was replaced by a half-metal mechanical prosthetic, which made Lu Fei Fan feel uneasy.
"Let him in," the One-Armed Old Man said as he turned away again. "You can go back."
The One-Armed Old Man added.
Duan Zhang's expression darkened as he stood at the door and glanced at Lu Fei Fan before gritting his teeth and saying, "One-Armed, we had a deal. If he can win against you, you'll give me what I asked for..."
"Don't worry; you still hold some value in my eyes. After all, only you two can bring me alcohol from outside. I’m straightforward—if this young man truly has the skill to defeat me in chess, I will give you what you want," the One-Armed Old Man replied dismissively.
Duan Zhang said nothing further but gestured for Lu Fei Fan to enter.
Lu Fei Fan did not hesitate and stepped inside as Duan Zhang closed the door behind him.
"When you're done playing chess with him and want to leave, just call for the guards outside to take you back," Duan Zhang instructed as he pulled out a plastic bottle filled with a clear liquid and handed it to Lu Fei Fan for the One-Armed Old Man.
Afterward, Duan Zhang exited and closed the cell door behind him while being escorted back to his own cell by the guards.
Standing in this cell, Lu Fei Fan finally noticed that despite its harsh conditions, it was somewhat superior compared to others; there was a row of books against one wall. Among them were elegant volumes like "The World Anthology of Poetry," alongside philosophical texts such as "The Doctrine of the Mean" and "War and Peace."
On the floor beside the bookshelf lay a wooden Go board, and it seemed there was still a game in progress. Lu Fei Fan remembered that game because Duan Zhang had brought it to him for analysis.
The old man, who had been sitting cross-legged with his back to him, stood up. It was then that Lu Fei Fan noticed the mechanical arm in his embrace was holding a pet, which turned out to be quite peculiar.
It was a mouse—one of those gray, annoying ones that could easily be caught in prisons or sewers.
Perhaps this old man was a bit different, naturally possessing some eccentricities, Lu Fei Fan thought.
The One-Armed Old Man did not appear frail; in fact, he looked quite healthy. Dressed simply in a prison uniform, he showed no signs of stooping.
"Are you the one who solved my game?" the One-Armed Old Man asked straightforwardly, stroking the nervous-looking mouse in his arms.
"Yes," Lu Fei Fan nodded.
"Good, finally someone who can play a few games with me," the One-Armed Old Man said as he sat down across from the Go board. He gestured for Lu Fei Fan to take a seat opposite him. "Come, sit here."
Lu Fei Fan felt no offense and walked over to sit cross-legged.
Both their gazes fell on the unfinished game on the board, and they exchanged smiles.
"Shall we start a new game?" the One-Armed Old Man asked.
"Yes, let's start anew," Lu Fei Fan agreed.
So they cleared the board and began again.
Time passed like memories fading quietly away, written down only to be erased without a trace.
As soon as they began playing, Lu Fei Fan realized that the old man's skill was far from the lackluster performance he had encountered while solving previous games. In fact, as the game unfolded, it took Lu Fei Fan considerable time to avoid falling into traps set by his opponent, which surprised him.
It seemed those unfinished games were merely meant to entertain someone like Duan Zhang; now playing against him revealed the old man's true level of skill—and it was impressive.
The One-Armed Old Man glanced at Lu Fei Fan, a slight smile playing on his lips, as if he had guessed the young man's thoughts. Deep down, he was contemplating how to make this young man stumble and learn a lesson.
At first, he didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives; he simply focused on the game, and their match turned out to be quite impressive.
“This... with these consecutive traps, it seems we can't determine a winner,” the One-Armed Old Man remarked as he surveyed the board.
Lu Fei Fan set down his piece and smiled. “If I were to abandon this section, I might still have a chance.”
“Young man, it's best not to speak too confidently. The world is unpredictable, and chess is like life,” the One-Armed Old Man replied, seemingly disapproving of Lu Fei Fan's casual self-assurance.
Lu Fei Fan remained silent, observing the One-Armed Old Man. Throughout the game, the old man had played with an air of nonchalance, clearly not revealing his full strength. Of course, Lu Fei Fan himself hadn’t played at his full capacity either; both were testing each other's strategies, cautious not to make reckless moves.
“Shall we play again?” Lu Fei Fan asked him, feeling more confident and eager for another round.
“Humph, if you want to play, then let’s do it,” the One-Armed Old Man replied, seemingly a bit challenged and determined to outsmart this young fellow who didn’t know his limits.
Thus, they quickly set up for another game. This time, they played for several hours. During the match, a guard brought in their meals, but neither paid any attention; they remained engrossed in their game. Anyone observing would notice that throughout the match, both sides were evenly matched on the board, like two entwined dragons fiercely competing. Even when one side appeared to be at a disadvantage for a moment, the other would soon find an opportunity to regain control. Many pieces were captured only to be replaced again on the board.
In the end, taking advantage of Lu Fei Fan's momentary lapse in focus, the One-Armed Old Man established a significant lead and claimed victory.
Sipping the white wine that Lu Fei Fan had brought him, the One-Armed Old Man seemed invigorated and cheerful, as if it had been ages since someone had played such an enjoyable game with him.
“Ha ha! Good game! Your skills are quite impressive!” he exclaimed as he reveled in his win.
“Not at all; experience speaks volumes. You are truly a master,” Lu Fei Fan flattered him.
“Ha ha! A true master indeed! Let’s play again!” the One-Armed Old Man shouted enthusiastically, eager for another round with Lu Fei Fan.
Lu Fei Fan didn’t decline; they began a new game. This time luck was on Lu Fei Fan's side as he won a round. The One-Armed Old Man took it in stride and continued calling for another match.
And so it went on—game after game—neither of them growing weary or aware of the passage of time until the next day when the One-Armed Old Man was deep in thought over a chess position while Lu Fei Fan rested his chin on his hand and dozed off.
Suddenly, the old man slapped his thigh. "I've got it!"
He startled the sleeping mouse in his arms, causing it to scurry away. He paid no mind to his frightened pet and, filled with excitement like a child, picked up a white piece and placed it on the board.
"Haha, it's alive!" the One-Armed Old Man laughed.
Lu Fei Fan glanced at the chessboard and indeed saw that the piece had come back to life.
"Senior, your skills are impressive," Lu Fei Fan complimented.
"Alright, alright," the old man said, reaching for a plastic bottle that contained wine. He tilted it to his mouth only to find it empty. He even closed one eye to peer inside the bottle before reluctantly putting it down.
"No more for now. Let's save this game for next time. You look tired; it's time for you to head back," the One-Armed Old Man suddenly remarked.
Lu Fei Fan nodded, stood up, stretched lazily, and even did a few exercises, throwing some punches and kicks. The One-Armed Old Man watched Lu Fei Fan's training with narrowed eyes, stroking his chin as if deep in thought.
Once Lu Fei Fan finished his routine, he prepared to say goodbye to the One-Armed Old Man, planning to go home for a good sleep.
At that moment, the One-Armed Old Man got up and flipped through several books on a shelf with his mechanical hand. He pulled out one book and tossed it over to Lu Fei Fan.
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