Xi Shi couldn't wait to find out the identity of the person who had walked through the security door across the way, but years of waiting had instilled in her a patience for watching and seeing how things would unfold.
Three hours later, at eight-thirty in the morning.
Xi Shi received a message from an unfamiliar number.
The notification tone chimed just as she was sketching the lace pattern of a bra on her drawing paper.
She reached for her phone, swiping her thumb across the screen to unlock it.
The message was nothing more than polite, courteous pleasantries—
Hello, I just saw the note you left today.
Some noise from moving is inevitable, but please don't worry about it. Wishing you a smooth move.
It was roughly what she had expected.
Only the target was different.
According to the intelligence Xi Shi had gathered, the owner of the apartment across the way should have been surnamed Chen—Chen Chen, to be exact. He was the same age as her and had been studying in the United States since middle school.
Her fluffy French curls were casually pinned up at the back of her head. She lowered her eyelids, propped her chin on one hand, and tapped the index finger of her other hand slowly and softly against the drawing paper.
After a moment, Xi Shi picked up her phone and replied to this unexpected neighbor.
Pretending to be a newcomer from out of town, Xi Shi claimed she might have been scammed by the leasing agent and that the rent she was paying for this apartment was exorbitantly expensive.
If the other party was also a tenant, she humbly wanted to ask about their rental situation.
She didn't receive a reply until she had finished the final stroke of her draft:
[Sorry, the apartment belongs to a friend. I'm just staying here temporarily, so I can't help you with that. Maybe you could check rental listings on a housing website to see what the rates are around here.]
Oh, a friend, was it?
Xi Shi's phone contained over a dozen screenshots from social media sites and a video clip. She flipped through them again. Most of the screenshots shared mundane details of studying and living in America, with the occasional photo of the blogger.
The only useful piece of information was the location tag the blogger had attached to a post made while in China—Jinyue Jingyuan, Courtyard One.
Perhaps the location tag had attracted people interested in buying property. Xi Shi remembered that if she flipped one more screenshot forward, she'd see someone in the comments asking whether the view from a higher floor in this residential complex would be better.
If she remembered correctly, the blogger's reply had been: Yeah, I live on the ninth floor of Building Six, and the view is actually pretty good.
Xi Shi swiped her thumb and flipped to the next photo—sure enough, it matched the memory she had formed from countless viewings, word for word.
The screenshots after that returned to posts tagged abroad.
The blogger, whose username looked like a jumble of random characters, was Xi Shi's original target—Chen Chen.
When she had looked at these images before, Xi Shi hadn't fully grasped their significance. Now it seemed that Chen Chen had only briefly returned to China for a while, then gone back abroad to study?
Xi Shi flipped to the only video she had and pressed play. Amidst the swirling neon lights and the glitz of a night out, she saw Chen Chen cheerfully clinking glasses with someone, carefree and smiling at the camera.
Genetics were truly powerful—Chen Chen's brow and eyes bore a striking resemblance to Chen Lintian's.
Xi Shi frowned with something close to disgust. In the video, she spotted a figure sitting half-turned beside Chen Chen.
He was almost entirely facing away from the phone camera, head lowered, as if straining to hear someone's conversation beyond the frame in the noisy environment, revealing only a stretch of pale, cold-toned nape.
It was him.
She had never paid attention to this unfamiliar figure when watching the video before, but now Xi Shi was somewhat surprised—could she really recognize the person sitting in that play of light and shadow as the one now living across from her, based on nothing but a glimpse of the back of his neck?
She replayed the video, staring at that nape, thinking:
Since she could confirm he was friends with Chen Chen, the plan only needed minor adjustments to proceed.
She saved the unfamiliar number in her contacts under the name "Target," then replied warmly and politely:
[Still, thank you for taking the time to respond.]
[Some workers will be coming by tomorrow to clear the pipes, around nine in the morning. I hope it won't disturb you.]
Over the following days, Xi Shi occasionally sent this target messages with various moving-related excuses. Her wording was concise and polite, touching on just enough without overstepping.
It seemed as though she was simply being thoughtful and sincere in warning him about an upcoming moving step that would generate noise, giving him time to mentally prepare for the disruption.
He would reply to Xi Shi as well—equally concise, equally polite, with closed-ended responses that left no room for further conversation.
Aside from that…
Xi Shi had run into her new target twice—
Once in the evening, by the parcel lockers:
Xi Shi had just retrieved her package and closed the locker door with the cardboard box in her arms when she turned to see someone striding toward her with long legs. His hands were in his pockets, his pace leisurely, his loose white shirt billowing in the cool evening breeze.
In truth, the dim lighting wasn't enough for Xi Shi to fully make out his features.
She simply had a gut feeling it was him.
She naturally didn't greet him, because from his perspective, she had never seen him before.
Xi Shi withdrew her gaze without changing her expression, tidying her wind-tousled voluminous curls as she swayed past the other person in her high heels, eyes fixed straight ahead.
The second encounter came on an afternoon with particularly lovely sunlight. Xi Shi had just returned from outside and was rummaging through her bag for the building's access card when she heard the soft click of the door unlocking. She looked up to find her new target pushing open the corridor door with one hand, stepping out.
This time the lighting was good enough for Xi Shi to take in his appearance from a frontal angle:
Striking broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs, paired with a clean, light-toned outfit. His brows and eyes seemed to carry a gentle warmth, his presence understated and comfortable—the kind of amiable tenderness that felt like a spring breeze.
Perhaps he noticed Xi Shi's searching motion, because he held the corridor door open for a few extra seconds.
Xi Shi understood and hurried over in her high heels with two quick steps.
In the instant they passed each other, their eyes met briefly. Xi Shi smiled and thanked him.
He said nothing, only gave a slight nod. Behind the lenses of his rimless glasses were a pair of eyes with a mild, gentle quality.
Xi Shi caught a faint, clean fragrance from him—like lotus, crisp and pure.
Her intuition told her he might be a completely non-aggressive, good-natured person, around her own age. What a pity, though—he happened to be Chen Chen's friend.
Xi Shi wasn't one to go out much, so running into him twice in such a short span was already a stroke of luck. If she truly wanted to get close to him, she'd have to create the opportunities herself.
But her sleep had been terrible lately—she'd even had the most vivid nightmare in days.
They say dreams have no touch, no temperature, no pain, no smell. Yet in her nightmare, Xi Shi truly felt warm liquid tinged with the scent of rust beneath her fingers. That wasn't the beginning of the nightmare—it was an ending tinged with the meaning of salvation.
"It's okay."
"Don't be afraid."
Xi Shi woke up again, drenched in cold sweat, gasping for breath. She'd been listless for two days because of it.
Two afternoons later, Xi Shi stepped into the elevator carrying a bulging kraft paper bag.
She pondered whether she should go straight to knock on her new target's door with the bag of bread, or go home first to change into a thin-strapped dress before heading over. Meanwhile, she unhurriedly shifted her right hand out from beneath the paper bag to press the floor number.
Xi Shi's web of intrigue had its framework set. All she needed was to methodically weave the capture threads along that framework, one loop at a time, and she'd lure in her prey.
Just before the elevator doors closed, a delivery rider darted in. He glanced at the lit floor number and didn't press anything else.
Destination: the ninth floor?
There were only two units on the ninth floor. Who had ordered takeout went without saying.
Xi Shi made her decision almost instantly. She fished a lipstick out of her shoulder bag, applied it against the mirrored elevator wall, pressed her lips together, tucked the lipstick back into her bag, and calmly smoothed the hem of her long trench coat.
Ding-dong—
The elevator arrived at the ninth floor.
She deliberately let the delivery rider go first, following behind him, timing it so she'd cross paths with her target just as he opened his door to receive the order.
As she rounded the corner from the elevator lobby, Xi Shi suddenly noticed her target standing in the corridor just a few meters away.
He was leaning back against the plain black security door with complete ease, head bowed, looking at his phone.
Seemed like he was waiting for his delivery.
The floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the corridor was like a canvas painted with a panorama of buildings. Between the towers, the sky was clear, clouds drifting like water, bright and refreshing enough to soothe the soul.
He stood in the most prominent spot of that canvas in a white shirt. As two sets of footsteps approached one after another, he slowly turned his head, and his gaze crossed over the delivery rider to meet Xi Shi's.
Xi Shi abruptly slowed her pace.
The delivery rider carrying the paper bag hurried up to him and asked, "Are you Mr. Lin?"
The other man withdrew his gaze and gave a soft "Mm."
The delivery rider handed him the bag, then brushed past Xi Shi with even quicker steps at the chime of a new order, jogging back around the corner to the elevator lobby.
This Mr. Lin, having received his takeout, didn't rush to open the door and go inside. Instead, he quietly looked at Xi Shi.
They'd been in contact through text messages for so long—now that they'd truly met face to face, it was only natural to exchange greetings.
Everything felt utterly natural, perfectly reasonable.
Xi Shi's high heels clicked crisply against the marble floor as she approached step by step, stopping only when she was less than a meter away.
This target, Mr. Lin, was rather tall.
Xi Shi stood about 174cm in her heels, yet even so, he towered a good half-head above her when standing straight.
Xi Shi wore a perfectly measured look of surprise on her face, meeting his gaze with a light smile: "I've been meaning to apologize for the noise from moving in—I've been thinking about coming to your door to say so, and today I finally have the chance to meet you."
With her shoulder bag slung on one side and a full bag of bread in her arms, Xi Shi extended her hand in an elegant gesture, poised for a handshake.
Her voluminous curls lay lazily scattered over her shoulders, her makeup refined and her attire impeccable. The oriental floral fragrance she'd applied to her collarbones, behind her ears, and on her wrists blended with the scent of fresh baking—undeniably captivating. "May I ask how I should address you?"
The matters mentioned in the text messages—unclogging the pipes, assembling the cabinets, mounting the TV on the wall—had all been completed long before Xi Shi officially moved in.
"Sorry for the disturbance" was a complete lie.
Xi Shi had thought that if the other party politely said they hadn't heard any noise at all, she could flash a charming smile and feign relief, saying: "It seems what the leasing agent said about the soundproofing being good is really true."
Mr. Lin spoke up: "Miss Xi, hello."
Xi Shi's eyelashes trembled suddenly.
He had already extended his hand for a gentle handshake, palms touching, and she heard him say courteously: "My name is Lin Youhe."
For a single moment, Xi Shi suddenly couldn't feel the bright sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows beside her, nor smell the sweet aroma of baked goods wafting from the brown paper bag.
Her ears were ringing. Holding Lin Youhe's hand, she stared at him blankly, unable to comprehend why his voice sounded so similar to the one in her dreams.
Was she hallucinating?
Until Lin Youhe teased gently: "Miss Xi, if you keep holding on, my takeout is going to get cold."