Under normal circumstances, Xia Songluo might not have thought much of it.
But recently, she had become especially sensitive because of being watched by a pigeon.
Not to mention, she had just heard Jin Zhan vividly describe a murder case from over a decade ago, which had left her jumping at shadows.
Before the mute handyman could look away, Xia Songluo walked straight over to him. "What's wrong? Having trouble with your phone?"
The mute handyman seemed to snap back to reality, taking two steps back until his back hit the lamppost, and he shook his head.
That guilty, evasive demeanor only made him more suspicious.
Xia Songluo approached him cautiously, and for the first time, noticed the name on the work badge pinned to his chest: Qin Sha.
Her gaze shifted from the badge to his ears.
If he were in the habit of wearing a Bluetooth earpiece, he wouldn't have taken so long to notice his phone was gone.
Could it be a hearing aid? But Xia Songluo had only ever heard the property manager call him a mute, and she had also heard other repairmen in the maintenance department call him that. No one had said he was deaf.
Still, it was pretty common for mute people to also have hearing problems, wasn't it?
When he came to fix the water pipe before, had he been wearing a hearing aid?
Xia Songluo tried hard to recall, but she honestly hadn't paid attention, and couldn't remember.
While she was thinking, Qin Sha seemed to be thinking too—even caught in some internal struggle.
Finally, as if he had made up his mind about something, he opened his Notes app, typed out a line, and showed it to her: "Since you asked... actually, there's something I wanted to ask you for help with, but it felt too sudden, and I was embarrassed to bring it up."
Xia Songluo kept a safe distance from him, but to read the text on the screen, she had to lean forward slightly. "Hmm?"
Qin Sha continued typing: "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but earlier when I was at your place, your friend came over, and I happened to hear you when I went downstairs to shut off the water valve—you called him Lawyer Jin? Is he really a lawyer?"
Xia Songluo said, "Yes," adding, "He's a pretty well-known lawyer."
Qin Sha rubbed his phone thoughtfully, then typed: "I've run into some trouble, and I wanted to get a lawyer's opinion, but I can't afford the consultation fee. I was wondering if there's anywhere I could get free legal advice. Could you help me ask around?"
Xia Songluo thought about it. There actually was a legal aid hotline, and she could have her friend He Qi, who worked at the legal channel, help him out. But just as she was about to say that, Qin Sha started typing again.
"Also... there's something else. A woman, one of the residents in this community, who runs a company—she keeps wanting to take me in as her godson."
At that line, Xia Songluo's eyes widened a little.
Take him in as a godson—was that what she thought it meant?
He exited the Notes app, opened WeChat, and pulled up a conversation. The name at the top was "Building 21 Resident, Ms. Fang."
He lowered his head and handed her the phone.
Xia Songluo knew she shouldn't take it, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she did.
The chat log, spanning over half a month, proved he wasn't lying.
Every time this wealthy lady from Building 21 transferred money, it started at a hundred thousand yuan. He never accepted, and she never gave up.
Actually, Xia Songluo didn't need a lawyer to figure out that this chat record alone could just be used to show the woman was rich and kind-hearted.
In WeChat, she only kept saying she felt bad he worked so hard, stayed up so late, and got paid so little. She offered to get him a different job, inviting him to work as her assistant at her company.
Xia Songluo wanted to suggest, "Why don't you just block her?"
But then she realized: she was a homeowner in the community, and he was just a repairman for the property management.
If he blocked her, and she retaliated by filing a complaint, it would be him who ended up in trouble.
Unless he was ready to quit his job at Lanshan Estates.
And if the wealthy lady had enough connections, a poor, disabled man like him would find it hard to even survive in this city.
Xia Songluo handed the phone back to him. No wonder he looked so off.
"That's a tough one," Xia Songluo said honestly.
He typed: "I know. I just wanted to ask—if she ever tries to turn the tables on me, would this WeChat record be enough to prove my innocence?"
Xia Songluo mulled over what he meant. He was imagining a scenario where, one day, the wealthy lady called him over, claims he tried something inappropriate, and he ends up at the police station—could he defend himself with this?
He sure thought ahead.
Given how cautious this wealthy lady seemed, Xia Songluo doubted the chances were high.
But this felt more like a personal matter, and she barely knew him. It wasn't her place to give him advice.
Even asking a stranger for help was already pretty "bold" of him.
Then again, he hadn't actually asked her anything. She had approached him first because she sensed something was off.
She had kind of brought this trouble on herself.
Xia Songluo said, "You don't need a lawyer. I'll ask another friend of mine. She works at the legal affairs channel—she knows a lot too."
Qin Sha typed two words: "Thank you."
Xia Songluo was exhausted and didn't say anything more. She turned around and headed home.
While washing up, she called He Qi and told her about the repairman.
He Qi asked first, "Is that guy good-looking?"
Xia Songluo was brushing her teeth, and mumbled, "What do you think? But honestly, looks are secondary. The real kicker is that he can make that cheap property management uniform look like Hermès."
"Now I'm curious," He Qi clicked her tongue. "But your day has had wild swings—first the pigeon, then Lawyer Jin, then some guy named Jiang Hang. And now, right before bed, you suddenly talk about the maintenance guy in your building. I can barely keep up."
Xia Songluo spat out the mouthwash and looked at herself in the mirror while putting on a face mask.
She didn't tell He Qi everything. "Qiqi, do you believe that someday I'd fall for a cold-blooded killer?"
He Qi shot back, "Xia, do you believe I'd marry a broke guy and have kids with him?"
A few seconds of silence.
Then both of them burst out laughing.
After applying her face mask, Xia Songluo went to bed.
The bronze letter tube sat on her nightstand at first, but in the middle of the night, the characters on it started glowing red, reflecting onto the ceiling and scaring her half to death.
She quickly opened the nightstand drawer and shoved the tube inside.
Then she rolled over and went back to sleep.
...
The next morning, Xia Songluo was woken up by her phone vibrating—it was a video call from her dad.
She was half-asleep and didn't want to answer.
But her dad called several times in a row, and with no way around it, she finally pressed the answer button.
She tossed the phone onto the pillow beside her, face down, not looking at the screen. "What is it? It's so early."
Xia Zhengchen laughed. "Early? My dear Miss Xia, it's already eleven in the morning."
Eleven already? Xia Songluo picked up the phone and looked at the screen. Sure enough, her dad had already changed out of his pajamas.
Between the two cities, there was a twelve-hour time difference, so it was already eleven at night where he was.
Recently, Xia Songluo video-called her dad around nine every morning, but today she had overslept.
She really didn't have the energy, so she threw the phone down again and continued lying flat. "I haven't slept well for the past few days. I'm catching up today."
Xia Zhengchen said, "Did you get hooked on some new fun game and stay up several nights in a row?"
Xia Songluo dodged the question: "Eh, it's average. Not that fun."
Xia Zhengchen's voice sounded helpless. "Take this opportunity to come with me to America and look at the schools over here. You just refuse."
"I don't want to go abroad for school." Xia Songluo was tired of hearing it. "You know my English level—studying overseas would be really tough. If you'd planned this all along, why didn't you send me to an international school as a kid? Why make me go to public school?"
At that, her dad had nothing to say.
In his philosophy, top-tier public schools beat international ones, but for all his careful planning, he never once considered that his daughter couldn't even get into an average high school without paying for placement.
Throughout her decade-plus of schooling, the person who had broken down the most was Lao Xia himself, whenever he helped her with homework.
"Alright, Dad, it's late. Get some rest, and work hard tomorrow. You do your part, and I'll do my part leeching off you—we both have bright futures ahead."
With that, she hung up immediately and flopped back onto the couch like a lazy fish.
So annoying.
With a dad who was the CTO of a listed company, her failure to get into college felt like a crime. For nearly two years now, everyone—whether they knew her or not—had to say something about it.
And yesterday, she'd even been suspected by Jin Zhan of having a low IQ.
Huh? Thinking of Jin Zhan snapped Xia Songluo right out of her daze. She sat up and reached for the letter cylinder in her bedside drawer.
Hadn't Jin Zhan said yesterday he'd give her just one night to think it over, and he'd come by this morning?
She checked WeChat—no new messages. Probably busy with work.
Xia Songluo hadn't decided what to do yet, so of course she wasn't going to contact him first.
She waited until 4:30 in the afternoon, and finally the doorbell rang. But it wasn't Jin Zhan.
Assistant Chen came to return the car: "Miss Xia, Lawyer Jin has been swamped these past few days. As for that matter, he said for you to take your time thinking it over, and he'll get in touch once he's free."
After speaking, he covertly gave Xia Songluo a few extra glances, wondering what "that matter" could possibly be.
Xia Songluo took the car keys, felt a wave of relief, and then a twinge of suspicion.
That wasn't like Jin Zhan.
After Assistant Chen left, she sent Jin Zhan a message: Lawyer Jin, are you messing with me again?
Nearly an hour passed before Jin Zhan replied: What? Explain.
Xia Songluo: You said the recipient line on the letter cylinder glowed red, meaning Jiang Hang was especially dangerous—were you messing with me?
Jin Zhan: Absolutely true. In case I misremembered, I even asked my family about it last night. Can't chat now, I'm slammed these next few days. Contact me if anything urgent comes up.
Xia Songluo: The letter cylinder's been sitting with me all this time—no problem? What if I lose it?
Jin Zhan: It won't get lost. And if it could, I'd have thrown it out long ago.
Xia Songluo: ...
Later that night at eight, after the property management shift change, Xia Songluo went to the main office.
The night before, she'd promised the mute guy she'd look into something for him, but she didn't want to invite trouble, so she hadn't added him on WeChat.
Since his first day on the job, he'd only worked night shifts, so if she wanted to find him, she had to come in the evening.
"Hi, I'm looking for Qin Sha from the engineering department."
"Please have a seat."
Xia Songluo leaned against the counter, scrolling on her phone.
A few minutes later, Qin Sha came out: "Miss Xia, you were looking for me?"
Xia Songluo blinked. Was she dreaming? The mute was talking?
She looked up and realized the person standing in front of her wasn't the mute guy at all, but another night-shift maintenance worker from the engineering department.
His ID badge, pinned to his chest, also read "Qin Sha."
Puzzled, Xia Songluo pointed at his badge: "This is your badge?"
Qin Sha looked baffled: "Yeah, it's mine."
Xia Songluo glanced behind him: "Then what's your colleague called? He came to my place last night, and I saw he was wearing a badge just like yours. You two share the same name?"
Qin Sha realized: "You mean Ji Zhou?"
Xia Songluo repeated: "Ji Zhou?"
"Yeah, my night-shift coworker."
"Which Ji, which Zhou?"
"Ji as in plan, Zhou as in boat."
Xia Songluo's heart skipped a beat.
She remembered teasing Jin Zhan yesterday, asking if he couldn't read, and whether the recipient's name wasn't Jiang Hang but "Jiang Zhouji."
Jiang Zhouji.
Ji Zhou.
A coincidence?
Xia Songluo thought to herself that any suspicion she had about the people around her was perfectly justified.
The letter was proof that Jiang Hang must be connected to her somehow.
The two of them were bound to meet eventually.
Xia Songluo asked: "Why was he wearing your badge?"
Qin Sha said: "That kid's good at his job, but he's scatterbrained. He's lost several badges. A replacement costs a hundred, and there's also a rule here that you get fined for showing up to a job without a badge. He didn't want to pay for a new one, and he didn't want to get fined, so he often used mine."
Of course, there was a perk too—Ji Zhou would do his work for him.
Xia Songluo nodded along: "He certainly is scatterbrained. He fixed a pipe and forgot his phone at my place."
Or did he really forget it?
Xia Songluo thought back to some of Ji Zhou's strange behavior the night before.
The more she thought, the more unsettled she felt. The more unsettled, the more her skin crawled.
"Hey, buddy." She leaned against the counter, acting casual, making small talk. "Is Ji Zhou hard of hearing or anything? I saw him wearing Bluetooth earbuds yesterday—are they hearing aids?"
"Hearing aids? His muteness isn't something he was born with, and his ears are perfectly fine." Qin Sha pointed at his own ears. "Better than ours, actually. He can tell from the faintest abnormal hum in an AC unit which exact part is broken. My master said even seasoned vets with decades of experience couldn't do that."
"Oh, I see." Xia Songluo's face stayed perfectly composed, but her feet had already gone numb, a tingle that crept up her spine all the way to her scalp.
Last night, he hadn't just heard her call Jin Zhan "Lawyer Jin."
He must have also heard Jin Zhan's line: "I found Jiang Hang. He's a Malaysian Chinese."
That was why he'd deliberately left his phone behind.
What he planned to do by leaving it in her home—you could guess.
And on top of that, his mind worked fast. The moment he sensed her suspicion, without even blinking, he'd spun a ready-made story and diverted her attention elsewhere.
Xia Songluo pulled out her phone, wanting to tell Jin Zhan right away that she might have found the recipient.
Her fingertip hovered over his WeChat avatar, then stopped.
What would Jin Zhan do?
Call the police?
Xia Songluo thought again of the letter. The recipient's occupation clearly read "police officer."
The word "police" was branded into her mind like a tattoo.
Like an anchor, it kept reminding her, whenever she felt lost: Jiang Hang couldn't be a bad person. At least not a vicious one. There had to be a reason for all this.
What if he really was some undercover Interpol agent or something? One wrong call to the cops, and everything would be ruined.
Xia Songluo was torn.
"Miss Xia?" Qin Sha had been chatting with her, but noticed her face going pale. "Are you feeling unwell?"
Xia Songluo steadied herself and shook her head. "Oh, um, I got you two mixed up. I was actually looking for Ji Zhou. Can you call him over for me?"
Qin Sha let out a "ah" of frustration: "Don't even mention it. Late last night, he got called to a homeowner's place, and somehow offended them. They filed a complaint against him, and he was so furious that he walked out on the three months of back pay he was owed. Just quit on the spot."
Everyone in the whole property management knew Ji Zhou had the most patient temper around—a real workhorse, endlessly tolerant.
Whoever managed to enrage him that much must have been truly terrifying.
Qin Sha sighed, exuding a mournful sorrow like a fox grieving the death of a fellow hare.
This time it was Xia Songluo's turn to be stunned: "He resigned last night?"
Qin Sha waved an arm and pointed: "He already left Lanshan Estate this morning. I even helped him carry his luggage."
Xia Songluo looked toward the villa area: "The person who filed a complaint against Ji Zhou—is it the owner of Building 21?"
Qin Sha instinctively wanted to nod, then shook his head: "Well, we have regulations. We can't casually discuss owners' matters."
Xia Songluo pressed her lips together tightly. So last night, when he said he was worried about being bitten back by a rich woman, he had already been planning in his head how to provoke the rich woman, get her to complain about him, and use that as an excuse to run off.
"Hey, do you know where he lives?"
"We all live in the staff dormitory. We're migrant workers from out of town; our wages are so small, we don't have extra money to rent a place. What we're after is free room and board."
"Where's his hometown?"
"Ningxia or Gansu, I think? He's mute—rarely chats with any of us."
Xia Songluo guessed he was probably faking being mute, afraid of exposing his accent.
As a child he spoke Cantonese in Hong Kong, then emigrated to Malaysia for school, so he probably spoke English most of the time.
He likely couldn't even speak Mandarin that well.
Qin Sha lamented: "When our property management tries to hire again, it'll be hard to find someone as cheap and useful as him."
"Your property management..."
Don't even mention the property management. Xia Songluo really wanted to report them—don't they run background checks when hiring?
Don't they check ID cards?
Regardless of whether Jiang Hang was good or bad, because they wanted someone cheap, they hired a man of unknown origins and let him stay for that long.
Can people still live in this neighborhood?
Too absurd. Xia Songluo started entertaining the idea of moving out.
...
Returning home from the property office, she held the letter tube and walked from the courtyard into the living room, then from the living room to the balcony, pacing back and forth.
It wasn't until 1:30 in the morning that she finally lay down on the bed. She turned off the light. In the darkness, Xia Songluo stared at the faint red glow cast on the ceiling by the letter tube, unable to fall asleep.
No Jin Zhan was pressuring her—she was driving herself crazy.
All she could think about was: what should she do?
From the recording, exactly how much had Jiang Hang heard?
His phone was placed on the second floor, so its pickup was limited. But judging from his unusual behavior last night, he probably heard at least some of it.
At minimum, he should know there was a mysterious letter tube, sealed with letters addressed to him inside.
Wasn't he curious?
Click.
In the silence, the sleepless Xia Songluo faintly heard a noise from the outer wall.
She steadied her mind and listened carefully—it sounded like the sound of a pipe being stepped on.
Someone was climbing up the pipe, onto the outer wall of her bedroom?
A burglar?
Xia Songluo didn't dare assume it was that simple.
A shadow suddenly rose in her mind: an old work uniform, a lowered cap brim, a black mask, head slightly bowed, nimbly scaling the wall in the dark.
Ji Zhou had resigned and left Lanshan Estate.
But no one said Jiang Hang wouldn't come back.
Unsure of his intentions, Xia Songluo placed a pillow under the blanket on her bed, quietly sat up, and slid off the mattress. Barefoot, her back pressed against the wall, she used the dim moonlight to make her way to the corner and felt for her baseball bat.
After a brief moment of thought, she chose to hide behind the heavy European-style curtains, with a sliver of a gap that allowed her to glimpse the bed.
She kept her breathing slow, but her heartbeat was far too loud in the darkness.
Her palms were so slick with sweat she could barely grip the bat handle. Gripping it with one hand, she wiped her hands alternately on the curtain fabric.
Can I do this?
Is this too risky?
Xia Songluo was physically fit—she'd loved skiing and mountain climbing since childhood and had learned some self-defense grappling moves. Handling an ordinary thief wouldn't be a problem, which is why her father felt comfortable letting her live alone in such a large villa.
In terms of track record, she'd recently taken down a middle-aged man who weighed nearly two hundred pounds.
But going up against a true trained fighter, young and strong? Xia Songluo had never tried it. She didn't know.
In the hacker's email, there was no mention of Jiang Hang being a fighter.
It was Xia Songluo's own judgment that he was definitely skilled at fighting.
But he didn't seem particularly skilled at being a burglar—after climbing onto the balcony, it took him a while to open the small door of the security window.
The sliding rail moved softly, and the sliding door was pried open a crack.
He slipped in sideways.
Once inside the room, he paused to observe for a moment, then walked straight toward the glowing nightstand.
The target was already obvious: he was after the letter tube.
Curiosity really is human nature.
But as the "thief" bent down, Xia Songluo noticed through the red glow reflected by the letter tube that the hair under his cap was much longer than Ji Zhou's—and it looked like it was dyed blond?
She looked more carefully at his build: this wasn't Ji Zhou!
Just as the blond-haired man was tiptoeing forward, about to touch the letter tube, Xia Songluo swept aside the curtain, stepped forward quickly, and swung the bat at his arm!
The blond-haired man's reaction was also extremely fast—almost the moment the curtain moved, he realized someone was behind it, and he quickly straightened up and backed away.
Bang!
Xia Songluo's baseball bat slammed into the nightstand.
The bronze letter tube rolled to the floor, and the glass ornament on the cabinet shattered with a sharp, piercing sound.
The blond-haired man took another step back. Xia Songluo twisted her waist, putting force into it, and swung the bat at him diagonally.
But instead of dodging, the blond-haired man grabbed the bat with both hands. He pulled back, yanking hard, trying to use the momentum to drag Xia Songluo down to the ground.
His strategy was sound, but he'd misjudged her strength. When Xia Songluo was pulled closer, she didn't fall. Instead, she decisively let go of the bat, raised her elbow, and struck him hard under the chin!
Mmph!
His muffled grunt had barely escaped his throat when Xia Songluo, barefoot, kicked him in the right knee joint.
He pitched forward and crashed down, his knee striking the wooden floor.
Xia Songluo clamped one of his arms, twisted it, and wrenched it—crack.
A clean, textbook grappling maneuver.
Ahh!! The blond-haired man was in pain—chin, arm, knee—screaming at the top of his lungs.
Dragging him across the floor like a dog, Xia Songluo brought him back to the nightstand and pressed the overhead light switch.
The bedroom flooded with light.
Xia Songluo pulled off his cap and mask. This blond-haired man looked about eighteen or nineteen, with several diamond earrings on his ears and a jacket from a trendy streetwear brand—not your typical thief.
"Who are you?" Xia Songluo felt he looked slightly familiar, though she couldn't place where she'd seen him. "Did someone send you to steal my letter tube?"
The blond-haired man still had her gripping his arm—it was dislocated, and he was tears streaming down his face.
"Talk." Xia Songluo applied force with her wrist, twisting his arm back hard.
"Ah, fine, fine, I'll talk, I'll talk!" The blond-haired man was drenched in sweat. He turned his face to look at her, disbelief in his eyes. "You—aren't you looking for Jiang Hang? I am Jiang Hang! I wanted to ask you, what the hell do you want with me anyway?"
He clearly wasn't being honest. This blond-haired man—neither in age nor in skill—couldn't possibly be that person. Xia Songluo couldn't be bothered to waste words with him. Holding his arm, she dragged him out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the living room.
She found rope from her toolbox and tied his wrists up.
Amid his cursing and yelling, she crouched down and searched his pockets.
"What are you doing?!" The blond-haired man sensed her intent, his face turning pale with shock, but he was helpless to stop her, watching as she pulled out his phone and waved it in front of him.
The facial recognition unlocked the phone.
The yellow-haired man snarled, “This is illegal imprisonment! And you’re trying to invade my privacy! I was wrong, okay—you can turn me over to the police, but you can’t—”
“So chatty.” Xia Songluo pulled out a roll of transparent tape, tore off a strip, and slapped it over his mouth.
The yellow-haired man: “Mmph… mmph mmph…”
“Breaking into my house in the middle of the night to steal, and you still have the nerve to lecture me about the law? You lot really are a bunch of thugs.” Xia Songluo felt not a shred of guilt as she stood before him and flipped through his phone.
She opened the contacts first—nothing.
Then she opened WeChat, her gaze sweeping past, and spotted a chat window. The profile picture was an anime character, with the name “Brother Hang” displayed.
Xia Songluo’s eyelid twitched. She tapped it open.
The chat history had been deleted, leaving only a few messages.
At ten o’clock that night, “Brother Hang” had sent him a message: While I’m away, don’t cause any trouble.
The yellow-haired man replied: Don’t worry.
Xia Songluo frowned. So the yellow-haired man hadn’t been put up to this by him?
She thought for a moment, then pretended to be the yellow-haired man and typed: Brother Hang, where are you now?
No reply.
Probably busy driving.
Should she call him directly?
To be honest, Xia Songluo felt a bit intimidated by this Jiang Hang. But right now, she had a hostage—that gave her leverage in negotiations.
She first opened her own phone’s camera, took a frontal photo of the yellow-haired man, and sent it to Jin Zhan.
After it sent successfully, she tapped the voice-call button beside “Brother Hang”’s name in the yellow-haired man’s phone.
As the ringtone sounded, Xia Songluo held her breath.
A few rings later, the screen shifted slightly, and the call timer began.
A slightly hoarse voice came through the phone, with barely passable Mandarin: “What’s the matter?”
The yellow-haired man: “Mmph… mmph mmph…”
The faint muffled sounds traveled across the line, and the voice on the other end instantly dropped several degrees: “Who are you?”
Xia Songluo took a deep breath and went all in: “That should be my question. Ji Zhou, or Jiang Hang?”
After she spoke, there was a long silence—utter silence.
Xia Songluo asked, “Have you figured out what story you’re going to tell tonight?”
Still no response from the phone.
But that silence itself was a response.
He was both Ji Zhou and Jiang Hang.
Xia Songluo continued, speaking matter-of-factly, “Some yellow-haired guy broke into my house to steal, and I happened to catch him. I don’t care where you are—come see me before dawn, or I’m calling the cops. Don’t try any more tricks with me. I’ve already sent his photo, along with your fake identity, to Lawyer Jin. When he wakes up after sunrise, he’s bound to contact me. If he can’t reach me, you’ll face the consequences.”
She pulled over a chair and sat down in front of the yellow-haired man. “Jiang Hang, I mean no harm. I just want to have a talk and ask a small favor of you.”
She wanted him to peel open the feather stamp—she needed the letter inside it.
