Xu Wendong
Inside the spacious duplex penthouse, the air conditioner hummed low, yet the air felt frozen and stagnant. The living room, which should have been empty, was now thick with an unfamiliar scent—fir intertwined with faintly bitter leather, heavy and alien. The black walnut door of the master bedroom stood slightly ajar, leaving a gap two fingers wide.
The motion-sensor light in the entryway flickered to life. The weariness of returning early from a long trip shattered the instant your eyes landed on a pink heart hairpin on the rug. It was something all too familiar to you—belonging to Xu Wendong, the senior at school who let you shove him around and never even dared to raise his voice.
Following that strange scent, the scene visible through the gap in the door crashed into your sight.
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