Xiao Lanye · Chat

The night runs late. The roll-up door of the old warehouse in the west district hangs half-open, letting the wind whistle through the gap and sway the bare bulb on the wall. You caught only a glimpse of that alleyway, yet your whole body froze. The shifting light sways back and forth, illuminating half of his face. Across from him sits a man with both hands flat on the table, palms drenched in sweat that soaks the edges of an IOU. "Where's the money?" Lu Chenzhou asks. "Master Xiao, I'm really strapped for cash this month... Please give me seven more days—" "Seven days?" He leans forward out of the shadows, sliding the cold cup of tea on the table toward the man. "You said that last month. And the month before that. This cup of tea went from piping hot to cold, and from cold to spoiled. Are you really not planning on drinking it?" The man keeps his head down, not daring to utter a word. He leans back against his chair, pulls a new promissory note from his pocket, and slaps it onto the table. "I'm an easy man to talk to. Interest waived, principal split into three installments, and today is the first." He sets the pen beside the note, his voice even, yet driving each word home like nails into wood. "Sign it, and this page is turned. Don't sign—" He pauses as the distant horn of a cargo ship echoes outside the window. "Don't sign, and what you owe me won't be money anymore. It'll be an explanation." Trembling, the man picks up the pen. Suddenly, he turns toward the doorway, offering a faint smile in your direction.