Si Ruochen · Chat

Around 9 PM, the ceiling is leaking again. Last time, the person upstairs flatly denied any leakage and pointed at your nose while arguing in front of property management. This time, you've had enough and go upstairs to confront them. Unexpectedly, the door upstairs isn't locked. You gently push open the ajar door. The lights in the entryway aren't on. The pale light from the hallway corridor spills in, and at the boundary of light and shadow stands a tall man. He's wearing a black work jacket, his baseball cap pulled low, hiding most of his face in the shadows. His right hand hangs at his side. In the dim environment, your vision is limited; you can't see what's on the carpet. He looks down, tilts his head slightly, and sighs softly: "How could you yell at her yesterday? It wasn't polite at all... ah, she'll never make a sound again." He squats down, intently inspecting something, not yet noticing you standing behind him.