Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 69 Nighttime Washing in the Air Raid Shelter

In contrast, the green progress bar on the software interface is pushed to the end.

The numerical value pops up in the center of the screen.

Accuracy: 92.7%.

Su Wan flipped her phone over, and the screen landed face down on the wooden table.

She dialed Chen Yan's number.

"The half of the face in the video mirror matches the cadre ID photo from the 1980s."

There is only a very low background noise in the earpiece.

"The same person."

Su Wan added the conclusion.

"Has the current position been clarified?"

Chen Yan spoke up.

"Old Yan didn't reply."

"Hurry up."

Chen Yan asked, "Did you receive the old factory blueprints that Sister Lin sent?"

"Place it next to the fax machine."

"Spread it out. Find the northwest corner of the factory area."

Su Wan pulled out the yellowed blueprint and laid it flat on the folding table.

The fingertip moves along the ink line to the northwest corner of the drawing.

The dotted line passes through the back wall of the factory building and cuts into the ground.

The finish line is framed with three words: Air Raid Shelter.

There are hastily written pencil marks on the side: Spare door, built in 1962, sealed in 1978.

"turn up."

Su Wan said, "The spare door is behind the drainage ditch gate. It is made of sheet metal and is partially concealed by a brick wall on the outside. Sister Lin checked the records and found that war reserve materials were stored there in the late 1960s and the warehouse was completely sealed off in the 1980s."

"Which way in?"

"Gu Changhe said that all the old folks in the factory know this road. Zhang Qiming locks the main gate, but nobody cares about the backup gate."

Suwan folding blueprints.

"I'll deliver it."

The studio's backyard.

The area around the drainage ditch was shrouded in darkness.

Gu Changhe crouched beside the sluice gate, his flashlight beam sweeping across the base of the brick wall.

Behind a half-wall of bricks, about waist-high, is an iron door covered in rust.

The padlock's outer shell is worn through.

Gu Changhe gripped the iron chain and yanked it with one hand.

The iron ring shattered and fell off.

He pulled open the iron gate, and dark red rust flakes peeled off in a rustling sound.

Chen Yan stepped in sideways.

Use a flashlight to probe the way.

A twelve-tiered permeable cement staircase leads to the underground.

The cross-section of the air-raid shelter is large enough for two people to walk side by side.

Metal cabinets and wooden crates were stacked against the walls on both sides, their base color obscured by accumulated dust.

The explosion-proof light above is connected to the switch wire, but there is no power.

Gu Changhe took out a brass key and opened the nearest iron cabinet.

The cabinet has three shelves, with glass medicine bottles neatly arranged.

Kodak stabilizer, Fuji fixer, and glacial acetic acid produced in Shanghai.

The label indicates a production date that ends in 1993.

"The warehouse was sealed off back then without being inventoried."

Gu Changhe wiped away the thick dust from the bottle cap. "The stabilizer is untouched and usable. We'll have to test the fixer later."

Chen Yanping raised his flashlight, and the beam of light shone towards the bottom of the iron cabinet.

Rows of round iron sheet cans are stacked at the bottom.

Black lacquer finish, handwritten white lettering.

Chen Yan squatted down and used his index finger to wipe away the dirt on the outer shell of the tin can.

The blue pen marks are clearly visible: SH-91-007.

Gu Changhe approached.

When the beam of light illuminated the number, his wrist bent, and the beam of light shifted by an inch.

Chen Yan looked up at him.

"Do you recognize this serial number?"

Gu Changhe did not respond.

He switched the flashlight to a low beam setting and narrowed the aperture.

After a long pause, he spoke.

"In the winter of 1991, director Fang Qiming shot a documentary on film of an internal party. It was 26 minutes long. The camera focused on who sat at the head table and which actress toasted which leader."

A drop of water seeped from the top of the air-raid shelter and hit the stone slab.

"The film is sent to our processing plant for printing. I'm the shift foreman."

Gu Changhe pressed his back against the cold, damp cement wall. "The day after the film was recovered, Zhang Qiming led a group of men in military overcoats off the set, collected all the film copies, and sealed them up. Director Fang flew to Canada via Hong Kong in early 1992 and never showed up again."

"What can Zhang Qiming use to bully you?"

Chen Yan stood up.

Gu Changhe turned off the flashlight.

The only light remaining in the passage was the beam of light in Chen Yan's hand.

"My son was assigned a job in 1995, but his personnel file was stuck at the Labor Bureau. Zhang Qiming told him to shut up and get to work, and he would handle it."

Gu Changhe's voice was hoarse, "They gave me the position, but there's a 'pending investigation' note in my file. My son has worked at the Pudong New Area Construction Bureau for six years, but his professional title evaluation has been rejected every year."

"How many positions are available through buyouts?"

Gu Changhe reported a six-digit number.

Chen Yan didn't haggle, and took out his phone to make a call.

"A reserve fund of 90,000 yuan will be transferred to Gu Changhe's son's private account. In addition, a technical responsibility agreement will be drafted. I will sign as Party A, and Gu Changhe will sign as Party B. The agreement will specify the following terms: Party A will authorize and supervise the entire printing and processing process, and Party B shall operate in accordance with the regulations."

The sound of Su Wan typing on the keyboard came through the receiver.

"This 90,000 will go to Sister Lin's account."

"Tell her the money will be deducted from the profits of the domestic roadshow. Fax the letter of responsibility to the factory within half an hour."

Chen Yan hung up the phone and looked at Gu Changhe, "Turn on the machine, adjust the liquid, and develop the film of 'Thunder'."

Gu Changhe took down the three bottles of stabilizer again, unscrewed the seal of one bottle, and brought it close to his nose.

"I'll add a condition."

He tightened the bottle cap. "You have to get those cans of film from Director Fang out of Shanghai. No matter where they go, they can't rot here."

Chen Yan's gaze swept past him and landed on the jar at the bottom of the cabinet.

"OK."

Gu Changhe turned and whispered towards the outside of the steps, "Zhang Yuan, get the generator down."

Zhang Yuan carried the portable diesel generator on his shoulder and shuffled down the steps with alternating feet.

The generator is placed against the wall and grounded, with the explosion-proof light plug properly connected.

Zhang Yuan pulled the starting rope.

The engine roared, and black smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe.

The explosion-proof lights illuminated in sequence.

Pushing open the wooden door of the compartment at the bottom of the cave, the abandoned hand-washed printing line was exposed to the yellow light.

Three sets of stainless steel water tanks are arranged in series.

Gu Changhe turned on the old brass faucet.

A stream of murky, reddish-brown, rusty water gushed out of the pipe, gradually clearing up.

He bent down and removed years of accumulated limescale from the drain.

"I personally laid out the threads in 1987. Purely handmade, relying on skin temperature to test the heat."

Chen Yan opened the black equipment bag and pulled out three metal disc boxes.

The core film, hidden inside Lin Qingqiu's medical protective gear to evade layers of searching, was stored inside.

Film box handover.

Gu Changhe opened the box lid to check the serial number.

"The section of the clock tower that falls into the water?"

"The film's Achilles' heel."

Gu Changhe placed the film box on the operating table.

The measuring cup, thermometer, and glass stirring rod are placed in order.

Zhang Yuan found a good spot in the corner, set up the tripod, and used the DV camera to cover the entire area.

"Red light on."

Chen Yan gave the order.

Half an hour later, the technical responsibility agreement was delivered by fax.

Gu Changhe took out a pen from his breast pocket and signed his full name on the line for Party B.

He finished writing, folded the paper in half, and stuffed it back into the envelope.

He stood in front of the water tank and inserted the mercury thermometer into the developing solution.

"Twenty degrees."

Zhang Yuan pressed the stopwatch with his thumb.

The pure cotton gloves were tightly fitted over all ten fingers.

Gu Changhe retrieved the first volume of negatives.

The film roll slid into the liquid surface, the left hand supported the shaft, and the right hand controlled the tape.

The water tank rippled slightly.

"One minute and thirty seconds."

Zhang Yuan reports the time.

A discarded white glass lightbox hangs directly above the sink.

Gu Changhe took out the film negative, stretched it, and secured it to the lightbox panel.

Water droplets dripped down the film substrate.

The image is stripped of negative film impurities, revealing the true reality.

The brick and stone clock tower dominates the foreground.

The crack runs across the three layers of the window frame.

The woman's figure is fixed at the base of the tower, her spine taut.

Film shift.

The tower collapsed, and broken bricks slid down.

The woman tilted her head back to look at him.

The shadows are not clumped, and the highlights are free of blemishes.

"The color bar meets the standard. The 1993 medication is working well."

Gu Changhe took a magnifying glass and brought it close to the edge of the film to check it, then stepped back half a step. "If this roll of film is taken out, no one in Shanghai can stop it."

Chen Yan reached out to take the piece and circled back to the piece box.

"Wash Volume Two."

1:40 a.m.

The film is immersed in the fixer solution.

Two tremors followed.

Zhang Yuan looked down and picked up the vibrating Nokia.

He took two steps to stand next to Chen Yan and pushed the screen up with his thumb.

Sender: Wu Gang.

It consists of only four characters.

The patrol car is here.

Chen Yan turned his head and looked across the corridor toward the exit of the steps.

The metal door of the air-raid shelter was half-closed.

Two blinding white beams swept across the gap in the brick wall.

Beam redirection.

The sound of four-wheeled engines rushed down the northwest drainage ditch of the factory area, the tires crushing gravel and sending sand and gravel flying.

The engine stalled.

The car door was pulled and collided.

The sound of rubber-soled heels pounding on the concrete floor echoed one after another.

The frequencies are interwoven, indicating it's not a solitary activity.

Gu Changhe's hands were stuck in the water tank.

The film containing the drug solution is suspended in mid-air.

He raised his eyes and looked at Chen Yan.

Chen Yan's hand rested on the generator's shutdown rope.