Jin Xueli stood before her own memorial portrait, her ears ringing.
A funeral wreath blocked her front door. The moment she opened it, she could see her own smiling, blurry face. The black-and-white portrait had been nailed crookedly to the center of the wreath, a vicious, bright-red "BITCH" slashing across her smile.
This was the first time she had ever seen an Asian funeral wreath in person. Amid the surging shock and anger, a small part of Xueli actually marveled at how authentic it looked, exactly like the ones on television, and wondered where it had been made.
As for who had left the wreath at her door, she had no curiosity about that. She knew who it was.
Jin Xueli kicked the wreath over, slammed the door, and pulled out her phone as she walked toward the elevator.
"Get up here right now and take a look at what someone left outside my door."
She had lived in this building for three years. Today was the first time she had raised her voice so loudly at the building manager. Before, she had never dared to be anything but polite.
"What gives you the right to charge such high rent and management fees? This is what the most expensive address in Blackmoor City gets you? Is your security staff made up of mummies stolen from the national museum next door? Are they all dead? I told you some creep has been stalking me lately, didn't I? Why didn't you tighten security? You actually let him get all the way to my front door?"
When Jin Xueli first moved into this building, she had felt very out of place.
Under normal circumstances, someone like her, from an ordinary immigrant family, with no prestigious education and a thoroughly ordinary job, could have spent her whole life saving enough for the rent and still failed the application screening. She would never have been able to move into this century-old landmark, already designated a historic site.
The layers of barriers formed by class and connections made it difficult even for many newly minted tech millionaires to rent an apartment here, much less buy one.
Not long after moving in, Jin Xueli had met a woman in the elevator who struck up a very friendly conversation with her, secretly delighting her. Before the elevator reached the lobby, the woman had asked with a smile, "Whose household do you work for? We happen to be interviewing right now."
It took her several seconds to realize the woman had mistaken her for a maid.
Even though their clothes were not all that different, somehow people could still tell at a glance that she did not belong to their class-and the building manager on the phone was one of them.
"Miss Jin."
In a tone that verged on kindly sympathy, the manager explained, "I'm very sorry as well. But you may not realize that we try to interfere as little as possible with our residents' personal interactions. That has always been our policy.
"The people our residents usually associate with are respectable people of some standing. This is the first time anything like this has happened. According to security, he said he wanted to surprise you, and he was carrying flowers, so we had no way of knowing you and your boyfriend were having a lovers' quarrel..."
"It's not a lovers' quarrel. It's stalking and harassment!" Jin Xueli snapped, too angry even to dwell on the implication behind "respectable people." "And he's not my boyfriend. He was carrying a funeral wreath!"
The man had gone on a few dates with her and had indeed visited before, with permission to come and go. It was precisely after seeing her home and lifestyle that he had started frequently asking her for money and gifts. Unable to stand it, she had decided to cut off contact.
She had never imagined that rejection could provoke such intense, uncontrolled hatred.
"All right, all right. I'll have someone remove the wreath immediately. Unlike you, our security staff aren't familiar with that kind of wreath, which is understandable. I hope you can be understanding," the building manager said. "However, Miss Jin, I'd also like you to have a proper conversation with him and calm things down. After all, our residents tend to be quiet and discreet. They don't like this sort of disturbance..."
"So I'm the one who should apologize to you?"
Jin Xueli was so furious she did not even hear what else the manager said. She hung up and kicked the elevator door hard.
When she left the building, she did not ask the doorman to call her a car. Distracted, she walked out onto the streets of Blackmoor City beneath the fierce morning sun.
Jin Xueli could call the police and apply for a restraining order, but neither was a guarantee.
For all she knew, the police would not act until she had already become a victim. A restraining order could deter a normal person, but how much use would it be against a lunatic?
For an ordinary woman, beyond calling the police, taking precautions, and fleeing somewhere far away, all that remained was prayer. But that Anthony probably had no idea that what Xueli could actually do went far beyond that.
She wandered for a while, made up her mind, and hailed a taxi.
Her timing was perfect. When she reached Blue Lan District, Between the Backlight had just opened.
The bar's door was hidden at the bottom of a short flight of stairs descending beside the sidewalk. Passersby could barely see its illuminated sign. But as far as Jin Xueli remembered, the sign had never lit up, so whether anyone could see it probably made no difference.
She pushed open the faded wooden door and stepped into a cramped, dim basement to the creak of dry hinges.
In the gloom, chairs sat upside down on tables, and cardboard boxes filled the booths. The air was stale and cool, carrying dust, the smell of alcohol, and a faint trace of vomit.
"You're here early."
The back door opened. A man poked his head in, looked around, and stepped behind the bar. He looked like a shar-pei, his eyebrows and eyes drooping, and had a doglike friendliness to him too.
He switched on the television for Xueli and gestured toward the bar. "Have a seat. I'm just cleaning up."
The television mounted in a corner near the ceiling above the bar lit up with the midday news. A baby elephant had been born at the zoo on Blackmoor City's central island, bringing a broad smile to the anchorwoman's face.
"Any news?" Jin Xueli asked as she sat down. "I'm planning to head over in the next couple of days."
"One outfit is temporarily short a person. They want to hire an experienced hunter with no family or faction ties. I thought, isn't that you?"
The bartender's shar-pei face remained hidden behind the bar. He seemed to be crouching on the floor, scrubbing a cabinet door hard. Over the swishing of his rag, he said, "Not much money. Three thousand bucks. They leave next week. Of course, you won't get a share of whatever they end up finding."
A few years ago, three thousand dollars would have made her eyes light up like flashlights. Now, it was not even enough to make it worth the trouble of lifting a finger.
"It's inconvenient for me to work with other people. I have some personal business this time. Any other commissions?"
"Then there's not-"
He had barely started when a sudden burst of urgent music rang out from the television, drawing Jin Xueli's gaze to the screen. Breaking news.
"We have just learned," the anchorwoman told viewers, her expression solemn, "that Mr. Wei Xilai, founder, shareholder, and CEO of the Many Trees Consortium, was found dead this morning at his estate in the Upstate District. He was fifty-nine. The suspected cause of death is currently sudden heart failure, and police have begun an investigation... Mr. Wei was also a state legislator and philanthropist..."
Jin Xueli paused. "He's dead?"
The shar-pei face emerged from behind the bar. Watching the screen, he asked, "You knew him?"
"No, not personally. But one of my clients had some dealings with him... I thought I might be able to do business with him someday. What a shame." With that, Jin Xueli put the death of Blackmoor City's richest man aside. "You don't have any other jobs?"
"You could wait a few days. Something might turn up." The bartender started wiping the beer taps again. "When are you planning to go?"
Jin Xueli took out her phone, intending to check the time, only to find more than twenty texts from an unfamiliar number on the screen. She did not even need to open them to see that they were all miserable pleas, filthy abuse, curses, and threats.
She had already blocked four or five numbers, but it did not seem to have stopped the stalker at all.
"I'm going tonight. If there's no job, never mind." She put her phone away, her tone cooling. "There's a problem that's not big or small, but it's disgusting. I need to make a trip and bring something back to deal with it."
The bartender nodded. "The same drinks? To take home again?"
"Yes." At the mention of alcohol, Jin Xueli felt sure her face had gone pale. "I didn't bring any cups. Just find a couple of plastic bottles to put it in."
Merely thinking of the drinks he prepared made her stomach and intestines tremble before she had swallowed a drop, as though they wished she could vomit out all her internal organs in advance.
No matter how many times she drank, Jin Xueli could not get used to the taste of alcohol. After forcing herself to drink for the past few years, she seemed to be turning into Pavlov's dog. Sometimes, simply smelling alcohol on someone else made her legs go weak and left her dizzy and nauseated.
"Only your mixes give me the effect I need. When I drink anything else, my mind goes numb, but my limbs get heavy and weak, and I pass out the moment I close my eyes. That's gambling with my life, isn't it?"
A smile flickered across the bartender's face. "But alcohol still isn't efficient enough, is it? I'll keep an eye out for a suitable drug for you."
If she could get the same effect from a single pill, that would be wonderful. Until she got her hands on it, though, she could only grit her teeth and force the alcohol down. She had no choice.
Not if she wanted to keep living this way.
When night fell, Jin Xueli changed into running shoes and workout clothes and tied her hair into a tight bun.
She gathered her usual gear and supplies and packed them into a backpack-not an ordinary schoolbag, but a hiking pack half her height, big enough to hold a sleeping bag.
Although she did not intend to stay long, Jin Xueli dared not be careless. She still brought a hunting knife, a handgun designed for women, and a can of bear spray.
What a shame. Bound by real-world laws, she could not use any of them directly on the stalker. In the end, she still had to take a long detour to reach her goal.
The time on her phone changed to 9:43 PM.
Harassing messages from different numbers continued pouring in, piling up at the bottom of the screen, not a single one opened. The unread message count had already reached 129.
A few hours earlier, Jin Xueli had discovered that the stalker had posted her number on numerous porn sites. The messages that came in afterward were not only nauseating; there were more numbers than she could block.
She simply stuffed her phone into the bottom of her pack. Out of sight, out of mind.
Night had blackened the entire floor-to-ceiling window. Sitting on the floor before it, she seemed to float in midair, suspended among Blackmoor City's skyscrapers and countless lights.
The neon glow, like stars and scattered diamonds, would keep illuminating the deep night until dawn arrived. This metropolis, the largest and most prosperous in the world, never slept, never stopped.
Enduring the discomfort, she swallowed every mouthful of the drinks the bartender had prepared. Soon her consciousness felt light and drifting from the burn, and her blood began bubbling and churning. Though her home was silent, she seemed to hear a humming somewhere.
Primal fear, evolved over millions of years, was not something repeated attempts could make her get used to or overcome.
Without drinking large quantities of alcohol, without dulling and clouding her mind, Jin Xueli would not even have had the courage to approach the edge of the balcony. She already had an extreme fear of heights; she did not even dare ride roller coasters at amusement parks.
Trembling, she gripped the balcony railing, drew a breath, and stepped onto the chair she had set out.
The backpack dragged heavily on her shoulders. As she hoisted herself up to sit on the railing, it caught against the rail. That stumble nearly sent both her heart and stomach acid sliding out of her throat. Only with difficulty did she steady her breathing, her palms slick with cold sweat.
Even drunk, she still dared not look down. She could only keep her eyes on the city skyline.
In the distance, traffic streamed between buildings, countless headlights blurring into bright patches of color through the hazy rain. Fine, cold rain struck her skin in dense, slanting threads, leaving Jin Xueli faintly worried that it would sober her up and rob her of the blessing of a numbed mind.
...Time to go.
She sat on the railing with her back to Blackmoor City's neon lights, looking at her reflection in the glass door and the dim living room beyond.
"I'll be right back," Jin Xueli whispered to the apartment. "Wait for me."
She closed her eyes, leaned backward, and fell straight into the chilly night wind of early November.
*I've landed, friends! The first thing I did was eat to my heart's content. God, it was like I'd just been let out of prison. I ate until my eyes went red-no, what am I talking about? The first thing I did was get clickety-clacking away at the keyboard. Really!
Hehehe, only four chapters in and I've already switched away from Mai Minghe. Sorry about that. Introducing the world requires multiple perspectives; leaving you confused for too long wouldn't be good either. I won't switch so frequently later on.
I should have given you a heads-up at the end of the previous chapter, but I forgot... Donkeys don't have great memories. You have a hippocampus; I have a donkey-campus. Knockoffs just don't work as well. Readers of the official version will surely forgive me (right?).
I've always thought one major reason Western fantasy is hard to get into is the names... So I've adapted all the Western names in this story into forms Chinese readers can remember. Jin Xueli, for instance, comes from Sydney Gyn. If I called her Xini Jie, who would have a clue who you were, right? I picked up this trick while writing Milady. Works great. Rated 4.8 on Dianping.
*Why have I put this nonsense after the main text? Because there wasn't room in the author's note, and I couldn't bear not to spout nonsense. Anyway, this chapter is free, so you can't accuse me of padding the word count.
Let me see which impatient hot-tofu grannies have become my creditors again...
All right, I now gloriously owe Tianxia one bonus chapter (why does "adding leisure" turn into losing leisure when it gets to me?), owe Magician Grayfeather one big-bouncing-baby-style bonus chapter (didn't I just tell you not to rush! It honestly pains me), and owe Yingyou one big bouncing baby (I'd be better off staking out the maternity ward at People's Hospital and stealing a baby; that would be faster)... What are you all doing? Your coming here is enough. Why bring gifts (.
Thank you, Tangmianye, Ghost of Time, Please Call Me A-Qi, and oJino (how about I scrape together one baby for you, and you take it home and cut it into four pieces? My stockpiled chapters are already chilled to the bone).
Thank you, Peng Xiaoxi, Pupu Haha, Mi Miemie, Mo Yuan Is Pronounced Black Bird, Flying Master Thief, Deyun Fujin, Kafka, A-Shi qwq, San Xi Yi, Yuki Akina, Qingqing Jiu, Cantaloupes and I Cannot Coexist (Melon!), The River Road Passes Lufu, and Had Roasted Sweet Potatoes Today-what's the hurry, grannies? Can't this affection of ours flow gently and last a long time? What if the story turns out to be no good? I'm feeling guilty already.
Including the grannies from before, how many bonus chapters do I owe? Five?
...Five??????
...?????????
"Thus do things pass away"-does "things" mean my chapter stockpile?!
(End of chapter)
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