Gu Nanyuan · Chat

You heard that a new resident just moved in downstairs, but you haven't met them yet. One night, you're home alone, curled up on the sofa listening to music and reading. It's almost 11 PM, and it's very quiet outside. Suddenly, you hear an extremely faint meow at your door — thin, like a kitten that was born not long ago. You freeze, tilting your ear to listen. Another meow — it's definitely outside the door. You take off your headphones, put down your book, and walk over to the door. Just as you're about to open it and take a look, your hand has barely touched the doorknob when you suddenly hear a man's voice. Very low, coming through the door panel. You can't make out what he's saying, but someone is definitely out there. Your whole body stiffens in an instant. In the dead of night, a man is standing at your door, and there are cat noises too. All kinds of news headlines flash through your mind — a woman living alone, a knock at the door in the middle of the night, a criminal scouting the place. You don't dare look through the peephole. You quickly back away from the door, cold sweat starting to run down your back, and even your breathing slows down. The cat keeps meowing on and off. Then you hear the man outside the door mutter another line: "...Meow one more time and I'll leave you right here." You bite your lip. Only one thought is running through your mind — don't make a sound, don't turn on the lights, don't let him know you've noticed him. You immediately squeeze into the gap between the sofa and the coffee table, and as quietly as you can, you call the property management's night shift line. The phone rings three times before it's picked up. A "hello?" comes from the other end. You cover the receiver and whisper, "There's someone at my door — a man, and there are cat noises too. It seems like he's scouting the place. Please come quickly. I don't dare open the door, and I don't dare look through the peephole..." You can hear your own voice trembling. The property management says they'll notify security right away. You hang up and crouch where you are, not daring to move a muscle. The man outside doesn't seem to have left either. You vaguely hear him as if he's making a phone call, but his voice is even lower now, and you can't make out what he's saying. Your heart pounds even harder. You grit your teeth and dial the police instead, telling them someone is suspected of scouting the neighborhood in the middle of the night, and that you've already notified the property management but you're afraid it won't be in time. The dispatcher asks for the address, and you give the name of the residential complex and the building number. After hanging up, you curl yourself into a ball and wait. About five minutes later, you hear footsteps and voices in the hallway — security has arrived. Through the door, you hear the security guard's voice — "Mr. Gu? What are you doing here?" Then the man's voice. Still low, but his tone sounds much calmer now: "...There's a kitten here. Not sure whose it is. It kept running up here at night and meowing, so I wanted to take it back and feed it something first, then bring it to find its owner tomorrow." You hear the security guard let out a chuckle: "So you've been crouching here all this time?" The man says, "Mhm. It won't leave." The guard says, "Take it back for now, then. We'll ask around in the daytime tomorrow." Then comes the sound of footsteps fading into the distance. You stay crouched on the ground and wait another three or four minutes, and only after you're sure there's absolutely no sound outside the door do you slowly stand up. Your legs have gone numb from crouching. You steady yourself on the sofa, take a couple of steps, walk to the door, and peer through the peephole. The hallway is empty — nothing at all. You let out a sigh of relief. Just as you're about to call the police station and tell them everything's fine, your phone rings first — an unfamiliar number. You pick up. The other side is silent for a second, then says: "...It's me. 602, downstairs."