Huaxu Nation, Gan Province, Xunyang City, Yiheyuan Residential Complex.
The name sounded decent, but it was just a cheap public housing block.
One elevator serving three apartments per floor; Wu Zhong lived on the twentieth floor, which meant every morning when he left for work he always had to wait forever for the elevator.
He’d even been late because of it—he was nearly driven crazy by it.
"Ding dong." The elevator finally arrived.
Wu Zhong wearily scratched at his mid-length hair and stepped inside.
There was already a neat-shirted man in the elevator—a neighbor who lived upstairs and who was almost always there at this time.
He seemed to be surnamed Li, though Wu Zhong didn’t know him well.
They exchanged a glance and gave each other perfunctory nods.
Wu Zhong leaned in the corner of the elevator, bored, and instinctively pulled out his phone to pretend to be busy; in reality he just scrolled aimlessly and checked the time.
"Tch, why won't this door close?" The neat-shirted man jabbed the elevator close button repeatedly; it clicked louder and louder as his frustration grew.
But the elevator doors refused to obey—they remained open.
If the doors didn’t close, the elevator wouldn’t descend.
"Huh? Broken? You can’t be making me walk down twenty floors, can you?" Sweat dotted the shirted man’s forehead.
"Brother Li, I’ll try…" Wu Zhong stepped closer and pressed the button himself; at that moment the doors finally shut.
"A bit sluggish, huh." Wu Zhong said and retreated to the corner.
Brother Li shook his head. "This old elevator's degrading. Who knows when it was last serviced—property management doesn’t know what they’re doing."
"Yeah…" Wu Zhong toyed with his phone and made idle noises as if agreeing.
The elevator stopped at the eighteenth floor and some residents tried to get in, but the doors wouldn't open again.
People inside and outside the elevator stood frozen on either side of the doors. Brother Li started furiously pressing the open button. "Damn it, this old elevator’s going to cause an accident sooner or later."
Wu Zhong finally frowned—these were all ominous signs.
The doors acting so sluggishly was terrifying. Please don't let me get stuck in the elevator today, he thought. He had urgent business; he had to get to the hospital quickly.
He became anxious and started jabbing the open button.
The silver doors slowly parted and a middle-aged couple stepped in.
The woman immediately complained, "What’s wrong with you inside? Holding the door so we can’t get in? Is this your private elevator?"
Brother Li glared. "We were trying to open it for you—don’t make assumptions."
"If you weren't holding it, would the door open?" The woman got more worked up as she spoke.
Wu Zhong couldn’t help but say, "After it arrives the elevator doors will open automatically. Whatever we do inside doesn’t stop that; the only issue is when it closes after opening."
"Um, like now… it won’t close again." The assembled people saw the doors wide open and unresponsive.
Brother Li snapped, "Right, this elevator's reaction is dead slow—don’t blame me for that."
The woman was baffled and ran to press the close button, but the doors didn’t respond.
Her husband even tried to pry at the frame with his fingers as if that would trigger some sensor to make them close.
Brother Li snorted and, without the same frantic button smashing, put his hands in his pockets and stood there. "Told you, it’s not responsive…"
"I already worked my fingers raw opening it earlier."
"Heh, press it yourself, put some force behind it!"
Wu Zhong looked down at his phone and waited in silence; both he and Brother Li assumed the elevator would close after a moment.
But two minutes passed and there was still no sign of the doors closing.
The middle-aged man panicked and grabbed his wife. "Stop pressing it—this elevator’s a problem. Let’s take the stairs."
The woman frowned. "The eighteenth floor!"
"Come on, come on—what if it drops?" The man hauled his wife out of the elevator at breakneck speed, as if afraid she might be clipped by the doorframe.
Brother Li frowned too. "It’s done for. Totally broke."
He glanced at Wu Zhong, saw no reaction, and followed the couple out.
The three of them took the stairs, leaving only Wu Zhong behind.
He was exhausted—really exhausted—and he didn’t want to climb the stairs.
So he casually tapped the close button twice and decided to wait a bit longer.
To his surprise, with that press the doors shut and the elevator resumed its descent.
Wu Zhong blinked in surprise.
He raised his hand and examined it in front of his face, secretly amused: gotta be me, huh.
The elevator stopped at the sixteenth floor and once again the doors didn’t open automatically.
Wu Zhong casually pressed the button and the doors obediently opened without delay.
An elderly woman came in. "Why did it stop on the eighteenth floor so long?"
Wu Zhong blinked. "This elevator’s a bit faulty, reactions are slow…"
"But sometimes it works."
The old woman didn’t comment further. They continued descending, stopping intermittently at several floors.
This time Wu Zhong positioned himself near the control panel and actively pressed the buttons each time, and the doors always opened smoothly.
He tried delaying his presses on purpose once or twice, but the doors never opened on their own; each time they required his touch.
"…This is weird." Wu Zhong felt something off but couldn’t pinpoint it.
A strange unease lingered, yet the numbness bred by his monotonous life kept him from dwelling on it.
Because the elevator had been stuck for so long earlier, there were now many people waiting downstairs.
Gradually more and more people crowded inside.
By the time they reached the fifth floor, two broad-shouldered men in undershirts shoved past and crowded ahead of Wu Zhong.
Wu Zhong instinctively stepped back and relinquished the elevator buttons.
A bad premonition pricked him, and sure enough, when the elevator reached the second floor it stopped moving again.
Apparently someone outside had pressed the call button on the second floor and the door wouldn’t open, so the elevator hovered there.
The large men grew irritable and beat on the open button, which clanged loudly.
"What lousy elevator is this?"
"Press the emergency bell!"
"Don’t push, don’t push!"
It was August, sweltering, and the elevator’s ventilation was poor—an old problem. Now jammed with people and mixed smells, the air was suffocating.
Everyone grew edgy; Wu Zhong was the calmest among them.
"Would it obediently open if I press it?" he wondered quietly.
The thought was ridiculous, and with him shoved to the back, blocked by the two big men and surrounded by noisy voices, he didn’t move.
The big men soon managed to contact security through the alarm; property management said they would send someone.
The passengers waited in the elevator; at first some were curious and took out their phones to film, Wu Zhong included.
But as time dragged on the mood turned oppressive. Even though they lived in the same building, none of them really knew each other.
A construction worker wearing a helmet took out a packet of Double Happiness cigarettes; a man in a suit shot him a glare and the worker awkwardly tucked them away.
The atmosphere became heavier by the minute and everyone shifted uncomfortably.
Wu Zhong took advantage of the chaos and slowly reached for the buttons.
"Ow!" A stout middle-aged woman yelled first, then elbowed toward Wu Zhong as if to push him away.
Her shove made Wu Zhong retreat his hand in alarm—he had been trying to secretly reach the open button.
It turned out the woman was aiming at the big men up front to tell them to stop moving; once she’d spoken up, Wu Zhong dared not make a move.
Seconds ticked away. They’d been trapped more than five minutes.
It didn’t sound long, but inside that closed space it felt interminable.
"What kind of property management is this? So damn slow!" someone started swearing.
Then a big man grabbed the elevator doors: "Help me pry it open!"
"Don’t—let the pros handle it," someone cautioned.
"Why be scared? It’s only the second floor—who’s going to fall to their death?" The big man, drenched in sweat, puffed and strained, but the doors wouldn’t budge.
Soon someone outside shouted and there were sounds of prying, but nothing worked—the doors stayed shut.
"Call the fire department!"
"They already did. They’ll be here any minute—stay calm."
The property’s repairman couldn’t open the elevator either; the fire brigade arrived swiftly.
Two firefighters worked tools to pry and fussed for a long time, but the silver door remained immovable as if welded shut.
They discussed with the repairman and eliminated the usual circuit faults.
"It’s not an electrical issue."
"Could something be blocking the door?"
"Maybe—let’s remove it forcibly."
"Where’s the main control? Lower the cab to the first floor; we’ll cut it open."
The firefighters instructed the property manager, who cooperated. The elevator ran normally down to the first floor…but the doors still wouldn’t open.
The middle-aged couple and Brother Li exited through a safety passageway and, seeing the commotion, silently thanked their choice to take the stairs.
They complained loudly about the building’s safety issues and made the property management sweat.
The firefighters said nothing more than, "Cut it open."
"Vzzzz!"
They soon began sawing the door. To avoid injuring anyone inside they cut at a high position.
The harsh noise reverberated inside the enclosed space and everyone tensed.
"People inside, be careful."
"Cover your ears, open your mouths, close your eyes."
Hearing instructions from outside, the passengers complied.
Only Wu Zhong took advantage of the distraction to edge forward and, on a whim, reached for the open button.
Hum… the elevator doors opened.
The saw operators froze and quickly stopped.
"Alright, alright…" They braced the frame to prevent it from springing back and helped everyone out.
Wu Zhong was the last to step out, astonished. "How did it open?"
The firefighter answered him: "Something was jammed in the door. We cut through the obstruction."
"Thanks, thanks…" He voiced gratitude to the fire crew, but inwardly he felt odd.
Was it coincidence? It had to be a coincidence.
They’d cut the object blocking the door—there was no way he’d suddenly developed a power to control elevator doors, right? That would be ridiculous.
He laughed at himself and didn’t pursue the thought.
The firefighters started discussing elevator safety with property management; some residents stayed to scold the property, while others hurried off to work.
"I need to get to the hospital." Wu Zhong didn’t hang around and left in haste, closing the unit access gate behind him.
He rushed to catch the bus and glanced at the weather while waiting—overcast and gloomy.
The wind was strong; the cloud sea churned.
All that wind and storm were headed toward Mount Lu.
Jiujiang sat at Mount Lu’s foot; he could even make out a corner of the mountain range with the naked eye.
Dark clouds gathered there and faint lightning flashed—there was clearly a downpour.
"Crap, didn’t the forecast say it wouldn’t rain today? I left my clothes out."
"Whatever, I’ll wash them again later."
The bus arrived and he hurriedly rode it to a hospital.
In the inpatient ward he went to his grandfather’s bedside and asked the caregiver how things were.
The caregiver, another old man, fiddled with his phone and spoke in dialect, "Nothing serious—conditions stable; just the usual eating, drinking, and excretion stuff."
Wu Zhong looked at his sleeping grandfather and the leftovers on the bedside tray. "Why did he eat so little? He barely touched it."
The caregiver replied indifferently, "He can’t eat. Two bites and he says he’s full."
Wu Zhong frowned. "Try harder to coax him to eat—feed him properly. He would eat half a bowl when I fed him."
The caregiver hurriedly said, "What can I do if he won’t eat? It’s fine; the IV nutrition’s running."
Wu Zhong stayed quiet. He wanted to care for his grandfather personally, but he didn’t have the time.
He was the only family left. His father died when he was young; his mother had taken him to his grandfather to raise, then a few years later fell into depression and passed away.
His grandfather had raised him, and just as he’d finally started working, his grandfather suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and was hospitalized.
The condition was stable but demanding—feeding, bathroom care, everything needed attention.
The caregiver charged two hundred fifty a day; that amounted to seven thousand five hundred a month. With hospital bills and his own rent, the caregiver needed to hustle to make over eight thousand each month, and only with the grandfather’s pension could they scrape by.
So there could be no skimping on the caregiver. If Wu Zhong took care of him himself, who would work? There was no one else at home; without income everything would collapse.
That’s why he worked overtime obsessively and took side jobs as a wake-up worker whenever idle—he never dared take a day off. This job paid by effort.
Some said auto repair was dirty and tiring; it was true, but it made money. Compared to factory work where you’re busy all day and still don’t earn more, it was better.
"Uncle, let’s go for the exam now. Come on, push the bed together." Wu Zhong called to the caregiver.
The caregiver was taken aback. "So early? The doctor isn’t on duty yet."
Wu Zhong snorted. "We’ll line up first—earlier start, earlier finish. I have to go to work."
They pushed the bed to the appropriate floor and waited outside the MRI room.
Wu Zhong dozed at his grandfather’s bedside—he was exhausted.
They waited until after eight when the doctor arrived; since they had queued early they were first in line and there were many beds still waiting behind them.
The scan only took a few minutes; Wu Zhong pushed his grandfather out and, seeing the long queue behind, was grateful he’d come early—he hadn’t wasted money or needing someone to wake him before seven.
Despite the fatigue, he wouldn’t be late for work.
He had no choice—every month income and expenses were tightly squeezed and he had to squeeze every minute and cent.
"The attending physician will come at ten. Aren’t you going to wait?" the caregiver asked.
Wu Zhong yawned. "I’m not waiting. If there are results, send them to me through that green app and I’ll head to work."
He hurried off to catch the bus.
He'd barely gotten off the bus when he saw a crowd in his Yiheyuan complex, apparently watching something.
Curious, he wanted to see what was going on, but he didn’t have time and ran to work.
It wasn’t too far; he reached the repair shop in about ten minutes.
"Xiao Wu, why are you late?" His boss asked with a touch of concern but no blame—after all, Wu Zhong was known to overwork.
Wu Zhong had to offer a reason. "Oh, the elevator broke… I got stuck inside…"
The boss laughed. "Always with a face for drama. Get to work."
Wu Zhong kept quiet, changed into his work clothes quickly while his boss teased him, and went over to colleague Lao Wang to start working.
"Worker Wang, this car threw P0172…"
"I know, I’m almost done." Lao Wang tapped the deformed jack with a wrench.
Then he murmured, "Your reason for being late today is pretty wild."
Wu Zhong sighed. "I was really stuck in the elevator. I even have video proof. I hope they don’t dock my pay."
"Haha, you’re a workhorse—being late a few times won’t make the boss dock your performance." Lao Wang shrugged.
Wu Zhong worried, "If they do dock it, I can’t afford it."
"Get to work—the car owner will pick it up this morning."
They worked on a Buick. The only issue was a rich fuel-air mixture.
When they finished, Wu Zhong took the car for a quick drive-around; everything was fine. "Okay, call the owner."
He parked the car and for the moment had nothing else, so he and Lao Wang smoked and soaked up the sun.
Wu Zhong was stressed and had developed a smoking habit, but to save money he never bought cigarettes—he bum-smoked from colleagues, the boss, or even customers.
Soon the owner arrived— a middle-aged man in a gray suit—eager to drive away.
Wu Zhong handed him the keys. The suited man unlocked the car and yanked at the door, but it didn’t budge.
"What’s wrong? The lock’s broken?"
The man tried repeatedly, pressing the key fob, but the car door wouldn’t open at all.
"Weren’t you just supposed to replace the air filter? How did you break my door? Huh?"
The owner started shouting. The boss frowned and came over; Lao Wang looked puzzled.
Wu Zhong felt a chill in his chest, a strange familiarity rising—another door malfunction?
"For heaven’s sake! No way."
"Did I get cursed?"
...