Fang Chen wondered to himself how he had managed to sleep for so long.
He felt a swirl of dizziness and disorientation as a sense of unreality quietly crept over him. In fact, this feeling had been notably intense since a day ago. He didn’t know where the sense of unease came from; his mind held only one thought—none of this was real. With a decisive turn, he retraced his steps to his room, collapsing onto the bed without bothering to change his clothes.
The persistent knocking on the door continued.
Enveloped by an ever-growing sense of hunger, he felt his body getting heavier, gradually sinking downward as if into a black abyss. Strangely, this gave him a sense of security, diverting his attention from thinking about what might be outside the door. His consciousness gradually became blurry, and he couldn’t remember anything after that…
Upon waking up the following morning, with half-opened curtains, Fang Chen discovered himself wrapped in a blanket. The living room’s air conditioner hummed in the back.
Another dream. He thought as he put on slippers and headed to the bathroom to wash up.
The dark circles under Fang Chen’s youthful eyes seemed darker. Water droplets slid down his cheeks as he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He perfunctorily wiped his eyes and continued washing.
After locating the air conditioner remote control on the coffee table, Fang Chen pursed his lips and indifferently turned it off before proceeding to the kitchen to prepare a meal. Despite his intense hunger from a night of fasting, he settled for a simple packet of instant noodles. Steam rose from the bowl as he picked up the noodles with two chopsticks and took a mouthful, chewing and swallowing before taking a sip of water.
In the dream, he had turned off the air conditioner and left the remote on the coffee table.
Fang Chen’s gaze shifted to the entryway, where a full-length mirror reflected half of a shoe cabinet and a ticking wall clock.
—If that wasn’t a dream.
Those weren’t dreams. Last night, someone had incessantly pounded on the door with a heavy force. He returned to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, and while he was asleep, someone covered him with a blanket and even turned on the air conditioner.
Goosebumps covered Fang Chen’s entire body. His stomach was cramping, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything. If the events of the previous night were real, then what about the day before?
The floor covered in fresh blood, with a person lying on there… Fang Chen wasn’t sure if they were dead before, but now remembering how their abdomen was emptied with organs consumed by another… How could one possibly still be alive?
The greasy aroma of instant noodles pervaded his palate; he felt like vomiting but forced himself to hold it in. Still needing to satiate his hunger, he picked up the chopsticks and quickly took a few more bites…
Fang Chen still chose to take the stairs. As he entered the corridor, he deliberately cast his gaze upward. Where he had seen Xie Ying conversing with a man the day before, the stairwell now lay vacant—white walls, white ceramic tiles, and a lead-grey iron railing.
The morning was too quiet; the sunlight streaming in was even a bit glaring. As Fang Chen took a step, the corridor echoed with a “tramp” sound. The elevator was going up; he reached the third floor and saw it ascend to the seventh floor…
Who lives on the seventh floor? Fang Chen paused for a fleeting moment.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Approaching the turn on the second floor, he heard the sounds of a door opening and a cat’s trembling, drawn out meow. Continuing forward, Fang Chen caught a glimpse of the man who lived on the second floor, lifting his foot to usher something into the door.
Fang Chen remembered his last name was Xu. “Mr. Xu.”
The stairwell was deserted, and the man, taken aback, turned to face Fang Chen. His eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses, and he greeted, “Good morning.”
Fang Chen heard a faint meow again as Mr. Xu retracted his foot, closed the door and entered the stairwell. “My cat is quite clingy.”
“What’s its name?” Fang Chen descended.
Mr. Xu took a moment to react. “What?”
Fang Chen blinked. “Your cat, does it have a name?”
Mr. Xu paused momentarily before speaking up, “…Little Meow.”
“Oh.” Fang Chen nodded. “Quite adorable.” His mind was preoccupied with something, seemingly absent-minded.
This morning seemed unusually quiet; Mrs. Wu wasn’t downstairs chatting with people, and none of her usual gossiping acquaintances were present.
At the residential building complex entrance, Fang Chen ran into Fan Yingying. The young lady’s eyes brightened at the sight of Fang Chen, and she greeted him proactively, “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Fang Chen responded and was about to leave.
“Hey.” Fan Yingying suddenly stopped him. “Auntie… Auntie Wu isn’t here today.”
“Mm, I noticed.” Fang Chen waited for her next words.
“I heard… her daughter passed away.” Fan Yingying bit her lip. “She committed suicide in her rented apartment.”
“…Ah.” Fang Chen didn’t know how to respond. This was someone else’s private matter, and anything he said felt inappropriate.
Fan Yingying realized she had misspoken and quickly tried to remedy it. “Are you going to work? Then you should go quickly…” she said, her tone containing a strange reluctance.
In the evening, Fang Chen saw Mrs. Wu again. She was still the same, sitting on a stool and chatting with a group of people as before. Her affection towards Fang Chen remained inexplicable, and upon spotting him, she took a moment to greet him with a wave.
Thinking about Fan Yingying’s words in the morning, Fang Chen couldn’t help but stop. Mrs. Wu was discussing something crucial, seemingly unaware of Fang Chen’s hesitation. “I demanded compensation from the landlord, but they refused. Didn’t that person die in their place? They don’t even want to pay any money?”
Fang Chen found himself unable to take another step, his thoughts echoing what Fan Yingying had shared earlier in the morning. It was hard to believe that Mrs. Wu’s daughter had taken her own life in a rental apartment.
Surprisingly, those around unanimously nodded in agreement with Mrs. Wu, and not a single person raised any objections.
This was strange, very strange.
The sky darkened again, and he overheard someone asking about Mr. Wu. Mrs. Wu’s tone became intense as she raged, “He’s out gambling again! The issues with his son’s house are still unsettled, yet he keeps handing money to others every day!”
It was about to rain. Fang Chen felt breathless and finally mustered the strength to step into the corridor.
After hesitating for two seconds between taking the elevator and the stairs, Fang Chen pressed the elevator button.
“You’re back?”
A chill seeped into the nape of his neck, and Fang Chen turned to see Fan Yingying standing in her doorway. Even in the comfort of her own apartment, she was adorned in a white chiffon dress, wearing eyeshadow and lipstick, presenting a delicate and slightly assertive appearance.
“Hello…” The elevator doors had already opened, and Fan Yingying continued to gaze at Fang Chen, making him think she might’ve something more to say. “Are you preparing to go out?”
Fan Yingying didn’t respond.
As the elevator was about to close, Fang Chen had no choice but to add, “If you’re heading out, remember to take an umbrella. It looks like it’s going to rain.”
The door closed between the two, and Fan Yingying, with a smile playing on her lips, uttered an “Okay” towards the already closed door.
Sure enough, rain began to fall shortly after. The raindrops rhythmically tapped against the windows. Fang Chen opened the window, letting the wind carry in the raindrops; some even landed on his face and hair.
He switched on every light in the house, noticing that the living room’s illumination was dimmer than in other rooms. Unaccustomed to this subdued lighting, he contemplated changing the light bulbs the next day.
Fang Chen sat on the sofa, eating cookies; crumbs fell on his legs, producing a satisfying “crackling” sound as he chewed. For the time being, he had no desire to cook at home, so he opted for convenience and stocked up on bread and snacks from the supermarket.
The night embraced a tranquil stillness, almost too quiet. Was every night like this before? Only a few lights were on in the opposite building, but they were extinguished as soon as Fang Chen looked their way, along with the lights in his own home.
Power outage.
Someone was walking in the corridor with heavy footsteps. Fang Chen held his breath, and the door was knocked on once again.
Knock, knock.
“Fang Chen? Are you home?”
It was Gao Cheng from the third floor.
Fang Chen’s breath hitched for a moment, then he relaxed and took a deep breath. Approaching the entryway cautiously, he asked, “Yes, what’s up”
“Well, aren’t we having a power outage? I don’t have any candles at home, so I was wondering if you have any?”
Fang Chen turned the doorknob, revealing a plump and short man standing outside.
Gao Cheng had a fair complexion and a simple, honest appearance, looking to be in his early twenties. He grinned at Fang Chen, “Do you have candles?”
“Mm…” Fang Chen nodded, vaguely remembering having candles at home but couldn’t recall where exactly. “Wait a moment; let me find them.”
“Alright, no rush.” Gao Cheng leaned against the door frame. “I’ve paid quite a bit in property management fees, and yet, with just a heavy rain, there’s a power outage. I’m really fed up with this lousy, rundown building.”
Fang Chen nodded while rummaging through drawers. He checked two in a row, but there were no candles.
“Do you have any? If not, it’s okay.”
“I should have them.” Fang Chen raised his head, somewhat puzzled. “I remember having them…” It was just that he couldn’t recall where he placed them.
“Take your time and look again.”
Fang Chen continued searching, and Gao Cheng continued, “Do you know the couple living across from me?”
“Hmm?” Fang Chen thought of the couple downstairs who clapped for love every day. “I know them.”
“Earlier, I went to knock on their door, but there was no response at all.” Gao Cheng pursed his lips. “If they didn’t have any candles, they could’ve just said so, instead of staying silent.”
“Maybe they’re not at home,” Fang Chen said as he found a candle in the last drawer. Did he use to keep candles here? He couldn’t recall.
Gao Cheng didn’t comment, just made a “hmph” sound, taking the candle from Fang Chen with a smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
It was still raining outside. Lightning danced across the sky, creating a symphony of crackles and distant rolls of thunder.
Though not completely serene, it oddly brought comfort.
This book is like swamp, I feel like I slowly sink in it
Thank you for your translation 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
This seems very dream like and confusing- very interesting
That yingying girl sounds sus