Incendie mystérieux

Chapitre 75

"Let me see." The sound of something being rummaged through the sparse mixture of solid and liquid brought to mind the scene of him inspecting her vomit, and a wave of dizziness washed over me… "Fantastic!" A sudden exclamation rang out, followed by a chorus of praise, "A masterpiece… no, a divine creation! This concept is simply unprecedented! A hundred times better than 'The Stinky Mansion'!"

"Let me see..." the woman said weakly, and then sighed softly, "It's passable. In the end, it's still because the raw materials you brought are too poor."

"Yes, yes, yes." One side's criticism did nothing to dampen the other's excitement. "I'll start writing right away. This time, haha, it's sure to be another bestseller!"

Sure enough, the next day, Zhou Dexi was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Zhou's wife appeared in public carrying a shopping basket. Perhaps because she had vomited so badly the night before, her face looked even paler than before, almost as white as a porcelain vase from Jingdezhen. When she saw me, she took the initiative to talk about family matters.

Starting last night, the renowned writer Zhou Dexi officially began his seclusion to write. His new book, tentatively titled "Hell Record," is planned to be 200,000 words long. Therefore, for the next two months, he will refrain from all outings, and all household chores will be handled by his wife. At this point, Mrs. Zhou awkwardly stuck out her tongue, "Actually, I'm quite clumsy; I often miscalculate even the money for groceries, let alone cooking."

"If you don't mind, I can help you..." I tentatively made this request, and to my surprise, her eyes narrowed into two lovely crescent shapes, and she readily agreed. I was only focused on pleasing this beautiful lady, and didn't even consider whether my behavior was inappropriate. Not only did I buy groceries, but I also gave her a ride home and cooked with her along the way—under her careful guidance, my cooking skills improved by leaps and bounds, especially her favorite dishes, which I mastered—and of course, I also enjoyed the food with her. Zhou Dexi's meals were usually delivered by Mrs. Zhou, but occasionally he would come out of seclusion to eat with us. He looked more and more haggard and older each time. Mrs. Zhou said it was because he had poured all his energy into his books.

Two months have finally passed. Released from confinement was not only a horror novel, *Hell Record*, but also a male author, withered like a dead branch and decaying like an old man. Mrs. Zhou was right; Zhou Dexi had indeed poured his heart and soul into this book.

A hush fell over the three-person celebration banquet. Zhou Dexi drank silently, saying nothing. After Mrs. Zhou repeatedly emphasized my outstanding contributions, he reluctantly raised his glass and pointed it in my direction. Even a blind man could see his reluctance.

I was fine, but Mrs. Zhou seemed angry at his rudeness. Her face was shrouded in a bluish tinge, which made even me, with my blurry vision from drinking, feel uneasy.

"Zhou Dexi!" Her voice was shrill and piercing. "Is this how you treat your benefactor? Apologize now!"

Oh dear, this joke has gone too far, hasn't it? Although I did help Mrs. Zhou cook, it's not to the point of calling her a "benefactor," is it?

Zhou Dexi sneered, his cloudy, yellowish eyes revealing only self-abandonment. "What does it matter? You're going to abandon me again soon, just like the others before..."

Mrs. Zhou remained silent, only staring intently at him with a harsh, almost venomous gaze. No one disturbed them, so the great writer was able to continue his muttering to himself:

"The magic book... even if it costs me my worthless life, it's worth it to obtain a masterpiece that will be passed down through generations..."

Before he could finish speaking, he collapsed heavily onto the table.

He died there.

After a simple funeral, I married Mrs. Zhou. To avoid gossip, we deliberately found a secluded community to live in, leading a quiet, secluded life. "Hell Records" had been published and, unsurprisingly, sold extremely well, bringing in half a million in royalties alone. Mrs. Zhou said that the dead cannot enjoy the happiness of the living, so I smoothly inherited all the estate of the late "Zhou Dexi," including his name and wife. Now, you should call me Zhou Dexi.

Zhou Dexi was merely Zhou Tai's puppet. She was a human with special abilities, capable of consuming "existing information" and randomly regurgitating and combining it in her stomach, vomiting it into "inspirations unimaginable to humans." The previous Zhou Dexi, following her instructions, would go to the market every Friday to collect as much information as possible, the darker and more desperate the better—from tabloids to portal websites, everything from burying rivals alive, head-banging gangs, to hacking classmates to death with axes—all the cruelest, darkest, and most unforgivable crimes committed by humanity were listed. So-called fear was nothing more than the dregs of humanity's own sins. Once Zhou Tai swallowed it, she would vomit it into unimaginable and terrifying material. Sometimes, even without deliberately collecting information, what she saw and heard around her already provided Zhou Tai with enough inspiration; at that time, she would shout:

"Quick, get me something! I can't hold it in anymore, I'm about to throw up!"

There's nothing we can do; the crime rate near our new home is just too high. Just the other day, a motorcycle gang robbed someone in broad daylight, even severing a woman's arm. Perhaps because witnessing that bloody incident was too traumatic, Mrs. Zhou's "inspiration" has been flowing non-stop these past few days, spewing out countless horrific and gory ideas. Truly, "literature originates from life, but transcends life," I thought to myself with a touch of self-deprecation. Now the only problem is…

If I keep writing like this, I'll soon be meeting my ex, and my ex-ex... Zhou Dexi, in the underworld. Looking at my increasingly aged face in the mirror, I imagine the pen and paper in my hand slowly absorbing my burgeoning life force. Although my ex's last words said it was worthwhile, I'm not willing to be drained dry by novels like this. Why not persuade Mrs. Zhou to write it herself? Besides vomiting, shouldn't she at least contribute to her own novel?

Oh, right, we should give her a pen name. What do you guys think? How about calling her Du-Gu-Meng (独—孤—梦)?

Short Story Collection: Horror Night Tales of Daughter Red

When Ah Hong came in, I was holding a bottle of aged Shaoxing wine, letting its mellow aroma stir my thoughts. Ah Hong stood at the door, unsure whether to put down the gift he was carrying or keep holding it. This was so much like our current stalemate—he was dragging his feet, and I was even more procrastinating—you know, young people always have less patience.

Sure enough, after a short while, he coughed awkwardly as a greeting. I kept my eyes closed, not even relaxing my brow, and then Ah Hong finally called out timidly, as if he were shivering from the cold:

"dad."

The air seemed to freeze at that moment. After a long while, I slowly propped myself up with my heavy body, a movement that startled Ah Hong, who instinctively took a step back.

“Xiao Dan doesn’t want to see you,” a bleak smile appeared on my face, which, in A Hong’s eyes, was like a field under the moonlight shimmering with a bluish-gray light. “From now on, you have nothing to do with us anymore.”

"Dad! Dad!" Ah Hong let out a mournful cry from deep in his throat, his carefully styled hair standing on end. "Can't I see Xiao Dan? I just don't understand, everything was fine yesterday, how come you turn on me like this today?"

Yes, I remembered yesterday. Xiaodan brought Ahong home; it was the first time she'd ever brought a boy into the house. Ever since her mother, my wife, eloped with another man behind my back, I've poured all my energy into my only daughter, hoping to raise her into a beautiful, virtuous, and accomplished young lady. Xiaodan hasn't disappointed me. She's always been obedient and well-behaved, studying diligently and graduating from a prestigious university, securing a good job—she's always been my pride. But there's one thing I'm worried about: Xiaodan is young and naive, and might be deceived by unscrupulous men. So I sternly warned her not to date before she's twenty-five, and absolutely not to do anything out of line. As for after twenty-five, of course, I'll personally find her a talented and virtuous young man to be my ideal husband. I firmly believe that in my vision of the future, Xiaodan will live a happy and fulfilling life.

But who was it that I waited for last night? Ah Hong, an unremarkable and mediocre coward, dared to hold my daughter's hand in front of me and beg me for my consent with his thin, knife-like face.

He actually said they were truly in love! My blood rushed to my head, and I almost choked.

I have no recollection of what happened after that. I only vaguely remember Xiaodan and Ahong's mouths waving in front of me, telling me about their secret affair, how passionate and sincere they were! They were already secretly engaged, and all they needed was my nod of approval—but what could I do to them even if I didn't agree? It's no longer the era of arranged marriages by parents. As an adult, Xiaodan has every right to control her own life.

Even if I watched her jump into the fire, was I powerless to stop her? Thinking of this, I shed tears of sorrow; those were the heartfelt words of an old father abandoned by his own flesh and blood!

Perhaps out of pity for me, Xiaodan didn't immediately elope with Ahong, but stayed to take care of her lonely father. However, loneliness, like death looming on the road ahead, was beckoning me repeatedly—after that unfaithful wife, was even my daughter, my only support, going to leave me too? Leaving my father, with whom I'd shared over twenty years of life, just for a man I'd known for less than a year and loved for less than five months?

I tried to persuade her to change her mind, using kinship, pity, everything I could think of, and finally she agreed. So today I replied to Ahong in the same way.

“Xiao Dan said she’s too young and hasn’t thought things through yet. Until she does,” every wrinkle on my forehead deepened, and rows of dark shadows surged from them, “I don’t think she’ll see you.”

Ah Hong was stunned; I could completely understand his reaction. "Why? I don't understand!" he murmured, his knees so weak they could barely support his body. "We clearly agreed..."

"A woman who doesn't change her mind isn't a good woman." I replied emphatically, thinking what I considered a profound statement, thinking to myself, "Young man, you're still very green compared to me!"

He seemed to have been struck a powerful blow, collapsing slumped onto the sofa. I raised my glass to him, "Shaoxing Daughter Red, would you like a sip?"

That was a top-quality bottle buried the year Xiaodan was born! For over twenty years, I hadn't been willing to dig it up. But last night, to celebrate my daughter's return to my side, I specially opened it. The orange-red, amber-like Daughter's Red wine was crystal clear, and from a distance, it looked like a woman's blood and tears, shimmering and moving.

After much persuasion, Ah Hong reluctantly took a sip, but his gloomy expression revealed that he had no talent for wine tasting. He quickly swallowed the Daughter Red wine and then eagerly got up to leave.

Even if marriage isn't possible right now, isn't his behavior far too passive? I told Xiaodan, "Look at the man you chose, he has no backbone at all, he just tucked his tail between his legs and ran away!"

Xiao Dan remained silent, speechless in the face of my questioning. Of course, as her older and more knowledgeable father, how could there be anything in this world that I couldn't understand? I knew my daughter's temperament was exactly like her mother's—gentle and respectful on the surface, but secretly extremely opinionated, stubborn, and headstrong, determined to make a mess of things until she was completely broken. I knew all this, but I was too lazy to interfere, only intervening occasionally at crucial moments, without letting either of them see through my act.

But this time I was too late. Xiaodan had already decided to get married to Ahong the next day. Not only that, she had also made all the arrangements for her future life, except for me—hearing her woven dreams of the future, my heart grew colder and colder, until it sank to the bottom of sorrow. This time, she was really leaving! Leaving me, her father who loved her more than anyone else in the world, leaving without looking back! Gone!

Xiao Dan's eyes were wide open, her long, black hair bobbing up and down, as if she still possessed the vitality of a living person. A tear shed by a pine tree a thousand years ago has solidified into amber a thousand years later; the Daughter's Red wine buried more than twenty years ago to celebrate your birth has become the most beautiful and timeless coffin for your peaceful rest many years later.

Bathed in amber-like nectar, you are like a celestial flower blooming in the cracks of flowing time, never fading, never growing old. Little Dan, look how vibrant and beautiful your lips are now, like a delicate red cherry! You will forever remain as beautiful as you are now. Your beauty will be frozen in time within this Daughter's Red wine, along with the precious moments your father and you shared—I reach out and embrace the enormous wine vat, burying my head in the depths of its fragrant liquid, letting out a hearty laugh from the depths of my chest, the intense aroma of the wine intoxicating me—look, now the three of us are finally reunited.

Short Story Collection: Tales of the Quiet Mansion at Night (Part 1)

"One should be content." Whenever Chaoyin recalled her grandmother's nagging, she would unconsciously frown. Indeed, in this bustling metropolis where land is incredibly valuable, finding an apartment like this—cheap, well-equipped, and quiet—was something she should have silently thanked the Jade Emperor for. Although the independent apartment was only a mere ten square meters, with barely any room for anything beyond a single bed, wardrobe, and computer desk, it was still a small, enclosed paradise—even including a very basic bathroom within those ten square meters, where she could even take a shower standing next to the toilet! —No more queuing in long lines every morning, holding her pee in a public restroom, as she used to. Chaoyin couldn't help but think of the "house" she had rented before, if it could even be called a house—a bare, unfinished apartment, completely divided by plasterboard and piles of garbage. The mere 100-square-meter living space of "two bedrooms, two living rooms, and one bathroom" was forcibly divided into six rooms by the sub-landlord using plasterboard. The only common space was a narrow, dark "corridor" for six different couples. Because of poverty and low wages, Chaoyin rented the cheapest "room"—a cramped cubicle of less than six square meters, with half a window shared with her "neighbor." Admittedly, even this doghouse-like place cost over 500 yuan a month in rent. Because it was so cramped, Chaoyin sometimes had to eat in the elevator lobby, and when passersby cast strange glances at her, her face flushed with shame.

Perhaps for this reason, she had been secretly searching for new, cheaper accommodations. But with her meager salary of less than two thousand yuan, what kind of place could she possibly rent? Even her "neighbor's" partitioned room, barely a dozen square meters, cost 1400 yuan a month just because it had a TV and air conditioning. Even so, many people were still lining up with cash in hand to rent rooms! As he said this, the sub-landlord disdainfully snatched the rent money, which was soaked with sweat, from Chao Yin's hands.

Chaoyin wasn't unaware of the current housing shortage. Since she came to this city to work, she hadn't earned much money, but she'd watched rents skyrocket along with housing prices, faster than a rocket. She couldn't help but wonder, how come there are so many rich people now? Even if a month's salary couldn't buy a square meter of housing, everyone still ate happily and played happily, cheerfully putting the heavy shackles of "mortgage loans" on their heads for thirty or fifty years, maybe until they died—even so, Chaoyin sometimes couldn't help but be tempted by others' persuasion, wanting to earn enough to own a property in her own name. But when she calculated her wages—sigh, to buy her own house, in a good location and not too small, she roughly estimated it would cost at least a million. Even if she earned two thousand a month, after deducting rent, utilities, food, necessary transportation, and clothing expenses, she could at most save ten thousand a year, one hundred thousand in ten years—meaning it would take a hundred years of work to completely pay off the mortgage. The thought of being reborn as a human in her next life, only to be burdened with debt for the house she bought in her previous life, would wake her up suddenly in the dead of night, even if she was fast asleep, feeling terrified by that horrible future.

The only solution now is to find a cheaper place to live, even if it means compromising yourself, you have to save money as much as possible. But these days, even beggars under overpasses have to pay for their toilets, so where can you find a place for less than 500 yuan a month? Just when she was almost in despair, by chance, she discovered an excellent apartment.

"Apartments exclusively for women, quiet environment...requires residents to be quiet, considerate, and mindful of others..." The long description made Chao Yin's eyes water, so she skipped over it, focusing only on the line of large print that caught her eye:

"Monthly rent, one hundred yuan!"

One hundred yuan! She could hardly believe her eyes—how incredibly cheap! Even after seeing the apartment in person, she still couldn't believe it. Such a location, such greenery, such a house! And it was only one hundred yuan! Her hands were trembling as she signed the rental agreement. When she moved her few belongings into the new apartment and lay on the small but subtly scented new bed, she truly felt that she was really living there.

From this moment on—no, to be precise, from this moment until 14 years and 11 months later—this "Quiet Mansion" will be her place of residence.

Her home.

Only one thing made her vaguely uneasy. The landlord had made it clear that the monthly rent was indeed 100 yuan, but she had to guarantee a 15-year lease. The total rent of 18,000 yuan had to be paid in full upfront. Chaoyin couldn't come up with that much money all at once, so she had to beg and plead with everyone she could, finally scraping together the sum. Since the rent had already been paid in advance, it would be worthwhile to stay there for the full 15 years. Chaoyin looked around at the small room that would soon be hers for 15 years, feeling content. Even if she got married and moved out later, she would wait until she got her prepaid rent back!

The new apartment was wonderful. Clean and tidy, and it was inhabited entirely by women—though Chao Yin had never met her new neighbors, she could sense from the atmosphere of the entire apartment that they were all well-mannered and kind people. In fact, Chao Yin hadn't seen a single one of them, nor had she heard a single sound from them—no footsteps, laughter, flushing—nothing at all. Perhaps the apartment's soundproofing was excellent, Chao Yin thought. The experience of tossing and turning, unable to sleep, like in her old doghouse, was something she knew she would never have to endure again. She stood contentedly at the window, gazing at the dark, indistinct mass of trees below. The trees, swaying in the night wind, seemed like turbulent waves under the night sky, gradually swallowing all surrounding sounds, even the usual chirping of cicadas and croaking of frogs. Truly worthy of the name "Quiet Mansion," Chao Yin thought.

That was clearly a world of deathly silence.

She walked to her computer desk and found that the movie she had downloaded via BT had just finished. With nothing to do all night, she chatted online on QQ while watching the movie through her speakers. The hilarious plot made her laugh heartily, her laughter ringing out continuously. Thinking about how she had rented a satisfactory apartment at an incredibly cheap price, she laughed even louder. Just then, there was a loud knocking on the door. In the stillness of the night, that urgent knocking still sends a chill down Chaoyin's spine.

Short Story Collection: Tales of the Quiet Mansion at Night (Part 2)

"Who is it?" she replied lazily. Could it be a neighbor from the apartment?

There was no response, but the knocking persisted stubbornly, at first at a tolerable frequency and speed, but then it grew more urgent and louder, like a hailstorm pounding on her door. The fierce and rapid knocking seemed to be venting the knocker's volcanic eruption of negative emotions, filling Chaoyin with genuine fear.

The movie voices blaring from the speakers were still as amusing as ever, but Chao Yin felt no urge to laugh at all. "Who's there?" she asked, her voice trembling, towards the thin door. "If you don't tell me..." she stammered, grabbing the broom beside the door and holding it across her chest as a weapon, "don't blame me for not opening the door!"

Her words seemed to possess a certain magic; just then, the torrential knocking abruptly stopped, leaving only a sudden silence. Chaoyin, broom in hand, waited for a long time, straining her ears and focusing all her attention on her hearing, until she was certain there was no movement outside before cautiously opening the door a crack. Sure enough, no one was there. The mysterious visitor, just as silent as his arrival, had vanished without a sound. Chaoyin secretly breathed a sigh of relief and was about to return to her room when she suddenly noticed a purple note pinned to the door.

The notepad exuded a faint, feminine fragrance, and the delicate, crimson handwriting on it was clearly from a woman's hand. Nevertheless, the information conveyed by that well-mannered handwriting offered no pleasure whatsoever.

It could even be said that it was full of stiffness, prejudice, and resentment.

"Don't you have any sense of public decency?!" Three huge exclamation marks were so loud that Chao Yin could almost see the menacing face behind them. "Are you deaf? Driving so loudly is killing everyone!!! Can't anyone get a break?!"

"Really?" Chao Yin glanced back at the computer, her eyes filled with grievance. She was confident in her sharp hearing; she was always the one complaining about noise, never the one being accused of being "deaf." However, since this place was called "Quiet Mansion," and the surrounding environment was extremely quiet, perhaps all the residents had developed incredibly sensitive ears, extremely sensitive to even the slightest sound. Oh well, she sighed. It was her first day living in the mansion, and if she didn't get along well with her neighbors, the next fifteen years would probably be difficult. So she turned the volume down drastically, just enough for her to hear when she leaned close to the monitor—"Now, you guys should have nothing to say, right?" She walked to the door and added a few words to the back of the note:

"Sorry."

Despite her awkward apology, a knot still spun in her stomach, a fire burning within her. What was the big deal? Couldn't that person have just spoken to her calmly? First, the relentless knocking, then the harsh note—wasn't this blatant bullying of a newcomer? No, that wouldn't do! She abruptly stood up. She couldn't surrender so easily, letting someone ride roughshod over her; she had to at least stand up for herself!

She strode back to the door and opened it forcefully, trying to erase the word "sorry"—perhaps her steps were too heavy, because at that moment, a dull knocking sound came from the wall again.

At first, she thought it was construction next door, but the knocking became increasingly rapid and heavy, reminding her of the knocking she had just heard. Having learned her lesson, she stopped waiting idly and slowly walked to the wall where the knocking was coming from.

"What's wrong?" she shouted at the wall.

The knocking stopped abruptly. Chaoyin curiously examined the not-so-white wall and noticed a bulge that was clearly protruding outwards. It was a hole, a hole sealed with white paper—just as Chaoyin realized this, the layer of white paper covering the hole was suddenly pierced, revealing a slender ballpoint pen with a blue note stuck to its tip. Chaoyin struggled to peel the note off the pen. Once the note was completely free from the transparent tape, the pen retracted with lightning speed, and the hole was immediately sealed back up with white paper, as if it had never been pierced at all—Chaoyin glanced at the hole casually, completely ignoring its strangeness.

Her entire attention was drawn to that note.

The ink was the same vermilion, and the handwriting was the same elegant woman's, only this time the tone was slightly gentler:

"You're also a long-term resident of Jing Mansion, right? Please abide by the rules of Jing Mansion. Don't run around or make loud noises! Be mindful of your impact on others and don't disturb their rest! Otherwise..."

Chao Yin put the last two words into his mouth and chewed them repeatedly.

"Otherwise..." What would happen if she did something else? Chao Yin was filled with anxiety and had no idea what to expect. She asked herself honestly; she hadn't done anything "loud." After receiving the warning note, she had obediently turned down the speaker volume as advised, and hadn't done anything out of line. "Running around"? Don't be ridiculous! Chao Yin snorted angrily. Did she really think that walking around in her own house would disturb the neighbors?

What kind of donkey ears do they have? They can't even stand this little sound! These neurotic old women! Are they out of their minds? Or are they going through menopause? She cursed her neighbors viciously in her heart.

So she spoke angrily to the hole:

"I've already turned the volume down to the lowest setting! Besides, I didn't run away at all, let alone make any noise! You must have made a mistake!"

She listened intently to the sounds from next door, but there was no sound. Perhaps the neighbor simply didn't want to talk to her. A third note was brought through the hole, this time blue, and the tone was correspondingly more aggressive:

"None of the guests at Jing Mansion make mistakes, except for you, the newcomer, who needs our guidance! Keep quiet, that's our only requirement of you! Jing Mansion is our haven of peace, and we will not allow anyone to disturb us!"

"What the hell!" Chao Yin grabbed the note without hesitation, forcefully added a few lines of large characters at the end, delivering a powerful blow:

Whether you sleep well or not is none of my business, don't blame it on me!

Following her neighbor's instructions, she stuck the note to the tip of her pen, then poked a hole in it, delivering the note to its owner in an almost violent manner. She felt a powerful force acting on the tip of her pen, nearly pulling her through the hole. At that moment, she suddenly felt a chill run down her spine, and a chill ran down her spine.

Perhaps, I've provoked something I absolutely shouldn't have... right after that almost provocative reply...

Short Story Collection: Tales of the Quiet Mansion at Night (Part 2)

With a heavy heart, she lay sprawled on the bed, her body stretched out like a starfish. The numerous actors on her monitor continued their farcical comedy, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't help but wonder about this cheap apartment, "Quiet Mansion." What kind of people could afford to live here? "Requirements for residents: quiet, considerate, and mindful of others..." These were the requirements of Quiet Mansion. Honestly, she perfectly met them. Even when unjustly criticized, she still turned the volume down as requested! Only when the other party was truly unreasonable did she angrily berate them. Only now, gradually calming down…

She began to regret it.

She could almost picture a group of aggressive women storming into her doorway, hurling insults at her. Honestly, if those "old" tenants truly believed she'd broken the rules, given Chao Yin's impulsive and thoughtless response, they had every right to attack her, or worse, kick her out of the Jing Mansion. No! Chao Yin groaned weakly, burying her face in the blanket. She'd already prepaid fifteen years' rent and had absolutely no extra money to find another place to live.

However, her fantasies never came true. Since that strongly worded reply was sent, there had been no further movement from the next room. Even the white paper covering the small hole had been sealed again, without anyone noticing. No one knocked, no one protested. The entire Jing Mansion seemed like a silent tomb, forgotten in a corner of this steel city. Even though Chao Yin, this occasional intruder, had disturbed the peace of the departed spirits, after a brief complaint, they fell back into a not-so-permanent sleep… Thinking of this, Chao Yin's teeth chattered, because she realized that even the buzzing of mosquitoes, which she usually hated, and even though she desperately wanted them to appear, hadn't come once. It seemed that all the creatures of nature were consciously avoiding the Jing Mansion.

All that remained to keep her company was the clanging of teeth. Princess, Princess. She drifted through her first night in a nightmare.

She slept unexpectedly soundly, so much so that she was too lazy to get out of bed the next day. The alarm clock protested repeatedly, but she ruthlessly suppressed it each time. What a tranquil environment! Utterly silent; not even the slightest breeze could penetrate her ears and disturb her sleep. Since leaving her hometown and coming to this bustling city, every night had been spent amidst the snoring, sleep-talking, tossing and turning, and teeth-grinding of her roommates. She hadn't enjoyed such a sweet and peaceful sleep in a very long time. In her dazed state, she seemed to understand the good intentions behind the "rules" of the Jing Mansion.

She slept until midnight, and when she woke up, all was still silent, so silent that she wondered if she had gone deaf. The noisy world was gone, forever shut out by the doors and windows of the Jing Mansion—she suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of peace in her heart, a feeling like returning to a warm home, giving her boundless comfort and tranquility.

She finally understood why those people were so desperate to uphold the "rules" of Jing Mansion.

"Keep quiet, okay? I can manage," she whispered to herself, turning over and getting out of bed. The bed creaked, startling her. Though it was only a brief sound, it was like a thunderclap, making Chaoyin hold her breath. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" she cried silently, apologizing profusely. However, the fourth note arrived as expected.