"Hey, hey, are you the kid who lives in Building 4 too?"
Che Quan stopped at those words, raised his eyes, and properly looked at the shopkeeper for the first time.
He was a bald man of about forty, amiable and easygoing. Smiling had probably become second nature to him; the laugh lines were especially pronounced on his already heavily creased face.
His voice was warm and friendly too.
Seeing Che Quan look his way, the shopkeeper quickly took a bottle of milk tea from the refrigerator and handed it to him. "So you are! Here, have a drink on me. Just call me Uncle Zhang. My wife and I live in 602. We've been there for years. We were quite close with your parents when they were still around."
Che Quan glanced at the bottle. It looked rather sweet.
He didn't dislike sweets.
So he accepted it.
Then he casually asked, his voice flat, "When my parents were still around?"
The shopkeeper nodded, his expression friendly. "That's right. It must've been over ten years ago. Ah, you were still little then. You used to play with our kid all the time. Do you remember?"
Che Quan shook his head, expressionless. "No."
The shopkeeper didn't seem embarrassed by his answer. Instead, his smile widened a little as he said cheerfully, "I see. That's only natural. It was so long ago, after all."
He furrowed his brow in recollection, seemingly nostalgic for the old days, then asked uncertainly, "Oh, right, do you live in 401 or 301 again... I'm getting on in years, and my memory gets worse by the day. I've forgotten..."
"201."
"Oh, oh, right! Just look at my memory! 201, hahaha."
"Mm."
With that, Che Quan turned and left, carrying his purchases.
By the time he returned to the old apartment building, almost all the police officers downstairs had left. Only two remained to guard the scene.
Police tape had been put up around the spot where the woman had landed.
The pool of blood had also been cleaned away.
A few bloodstains remained, but at least it wasn't as horrifying as before.
Che Quan looked up.
Time seemed to pass unusually quickly here. Not long ago, warm sunlight had shone overhead as though it were noon, but now the sky was already approaching dusk.
The once-white clouds had darkened, the sun sank beneath the heavy horizon, and the sky gradually dimmed.
Che Quan saw the old apartment building, neither particularly tall nor particularly short, weighed down beneath thick black clouds.
The old apartment building had six floors in total.
There were two households on each floor, their doors facing one another.
He hadn't seen either of the households on the first floor yet.
On the second floor, he lived in 201, and he didn't know who lived across from him in 202.
So far, he only knew of the girl named Xuan Shuhui, who might live in 302, and Uncle Zhang, who said his family lived in 602.
Che Quan remembered that Xuan Shuhui's introduction had been sly.
She hadn't clearly stated that she lived in Room 302, only that he could come to Room 302 to find her anytime.
There was a vast difference between those two statements, with all sorts of possible implications.
He just didn't know whether Xuan Shuhui had done it deliberately or whether he was overthinking things...
Che Quan calmly withdrew his gaze and slowly climbed to the second floor.
As he discreetly steadied his tired breathing, he took out his key and was about to open the door.
Suddenly, Che Quan heard the crisp sound of a door opening behind him.
He instinctively looked back.
A strange man, bundled up from head to toe, emerged from Room 201 across the hall.
He wore a large baseball cap.
With its brim pulled down, it covered most of his face.
It also made the strange man's frighteningly pale skin stand out all the more, as though he had never seen daylight.
Apparently feeling that this wasn't enough to conceal him, the strange man also wore a large face mask.
With all that, Che Quan couldn't make out his features at all.
Not that Che Quan had the slightest interest in anyone else's appearance.
He only needed to make sure the man didn't have silver hair and wasn't that bastard Jiang Cong.
He glanced at the short black hair pressed beneath the man's cap.
Then Che Quan looked away, turned back, and continued opening his own door.
He had no interest in asking around or hunting for clues.
All he knew was that whichever of them came looking for trouble-the "murderer" or the "pervert"-would be courting death.
But just as Che Quan stepped one long leg through the doorway, the young man behind him suddenly called out to stop him. His voice was muffled and heavy, distinctly odd.
"I heard someone jumped off the building today?"
He seemed to be asking Che Quan.
Che Quan stopped and glanced at him. "Mm."
"Was it the person in 302? I think she has a mental illness."
Che Quan gave that a little thought.
302... Xuan Shuhui?
She seemed pretty normal.
He asked the strange man directly, "What's that woman's surname?"
"I'm not sure. I just saw an ambulance come by, so I thought I'd ask."
Che Quan fell silent for two seconds, then said, "Oh. Doesn't matter."
With that, he shut the door.
Che Quan made a simple meal out of the convenience food he'd bought at the little shop. After finishing it, he had only just stood up when he looked out the window-
It was already completely dark.
Time really wasn't passing normally here.
It was late at night already, so soon.
The old apartment had poor soundproofing, and Che Quan heard footsteps coming up the stairs outside.
They were especially heavy, pounding hard onto one step after another before stopping outside Room 201, where Che Quan lived.
Abruptly, someone began hammering wildly on Che Quan's door. Whoever it was seemed to have lost their mind, the noise enough to make anyone's heart pound.
Yet Che Quan remained completely unmoved inside. He even cleared away the remains of his meal as though nothing were happening.
Who knew how long that savage, terrifying pounding lasted? Only when Che Quan emerged from the bathroom after his shower did he notice that everything around him had fallen silent.
The door was still perfectly intact.
Che Quan raised an eyebrow slightly. Using the towel draped around his neck, he gently rubbed his wet black hair and glanced around the room. Finding nothing unusual, he indifferently looked away again.
He had no idea that the live comments in the stream showing his perspective were going wild with lust.
[Freshly showered little beauty, awww! Those red lips and pearly teeth-you can just tell he smells lovely.]
[I really want to lick the little beauty's feet.]
[Hey, you above me, rein it in.]
[If I were the pervert, I wouldn't be able to hold back after seeing this either aaaaaah.]
Che Quan spent a little while drying his hair.
He didn't know whether he had imagined it or whether it had really happened-
Someone in the building had been killed.
They had let out a miserable scream before dying.
But the sound was so faint that it could almost have been an auditory hallucination.
Che Quan pressed his lips together and decided not to bother thinking about it. He would know once he took a look tomorrow.
Then Che Quan entered the bedroom, ready to rest. Although he hadn't done much, this body was so frail that he gasped for breath every few steps; it really couldn't endure any more exertion.
But just as he entered the bedroom and closed the door, before he could turn on the light, something sharp suddenly pressed against his lower back.
It was the tip of a dagger.
It pressed squarely into the hollow of his lower back, yet there was little threat in the gesture. It felt far more like teasing.
Che Quan remained expressionless, his eyes gradually darkening as he felt the man approach from behind. One hand held the dagger, while the other slowly circled his waist.
At the same time, a sharply contoured chin settled against Che Quan's shoulder.
It rested in the cool hollow of his neck.
Che Quan stayed still. Sure enough, a familiar voice sounded beside his ear.
"Long time no see."
Jiang Cong.
That fucking bastard.
Had he entered this instance too?
Che Quan asked in a deliberately low, languid voice, "Which apartment do you live in?"
"That's a secret."
"You're the pervert, aren't you?" Che Quan made no attempt to hide the mockery in his voice.
Jiang Cong seemed delighted. He gave a low, refined chuckle and said, "So, Che Quan, does that mean you think you're this pervert's 'cherished darling'?"
Before you continue