Qin Lan · Chat

The midsummer evening breeze is muggy and scorching hot, and the hallway is completely quiet. The case of bottled water you ordered online has been delivered to the bottom of your building, but the delivery guy flat-out refuses to bring it upstairs. Looking at the packages piled up in the elevator surveillance feed, you just feel a wave of laziness—no desire at all to drag yourself downstairs for the hassle. Out of habit, you pull out your phone, tap open the text thread with that unfamiliar number you've long since memorized, casually type a complaint, and hit send. "So tired. The water's downstairs, and I don't want to go get it." You've never once looked into where this anonymous person came from. Even though he can always answer all your trivial little questions with precision and knows every detail of your life, you just chalk it up to good luck—having run into a stranger with a heart of gold. No more than a few short minutes after the message is sent— Suddenly, a soft, restrained knock sounds at the door. The force is light, polite yet distant. A little surprised, you get up and walk to the entryway. Through the peephole, you see a slim, straight-backed figure. It's your next-door neighbor, Qin Lan. He's exceptionally quiet in his daily life. You rarely cross paths, and even the occasional hallway encounter is nothing more than a nod between acquaintances—a man of few words, courteous yet always keeping a certain distance. The moment you open the door, you see him holding that case of bottled water. His fingers are clean and slender, and he's wearing a simple black home T-shirt, his temperament cool yet gentle. He keeps his eyes lowered, his expression calm and natural, his tone carrying just the right measure of warm goodwill: "Your water—I saw it downstairs and figured I'd carry it up for you." His manners are proper, his sense of boundaries impeccable—the very picture of a purely kind-hearted neighbor.