Chapter 37: Rolling Her Eyes

Rolling eyes: Not the easiest person to get along with.

The woman in front of her towered half a head taller, the sunlight streaming from behind and blurring Ji Yingran’s vision for a moment.

Before Ji Yingran could get a clear look at her face, her shoulder took another heavy bump.

Ji Yingran winced again, sucking in a sharp breath from the pain.

“Aren’t you…” The words had barely left her mouth when Ji Yingran was jostled once more.

After bumping into her three times in succession, the woman marched off without a backward glance.

Ji Yingran stared in bewilderment, cradling her aching shoulder as she turned to watch. A tall figure receded into the distance, waist-length white hair gleaming silver under the sun.

That silhouette left Ji Yingran momentarily stunned, a strange flicker of familiarity stirring in her chest.

The sensation hit her out of nowhere and made no sense at all. She hadn’t even seen the woman’s face—just her back.

Had they met somewhere before?

Yet nothing in her memory matched this person. They must not have.

As Ji Yingran puzzled it over, the white-haired woman rounded a corner and pushed open the gate to Building 10’s courtyard, slipping inside.

Ji Yingran frowned. Was she the new neighbor?

The previous owner of Building 10 had moved out amid complaints of spotting some monster. They’d even called in an exorcist who made a racket for days on end.

Since then, the place had sat vacant—no one living there, no one buying it.

That old owner had been a real piece of work, dragging along a hellion of a kid who smashed neighbors’ windows daily. Ji Yingran had always steered clear of that family whenever possible.

Now that those troublemakers were finally gone, it looked like Building 10 had snagged an even tougher customer.

Ji Yingran rubbed her throbbing shoulder. What kind of day was this? Getting rammed three times out of the blue on her walk home.

Whatever. She shook her head and passed Building 9, arriving at her own Building 7.

She pushed open the courtyard gate, and the big golden retriever came bounding out, tail wagging like mad as it barked up a storm.

Trailing behind the big golden retriever was a cat, meowing away and weaving around Ji Yingran’s ankles with its tail straight up.

The other two cats just lounged on the windowsill, one curled up in its bed.

They might not have been as outgoing, but Ji Yingran never played favorites. After giving the enthusiastic pair their pets, she reached over to stroke the standoffish duo as well.

She always made a point of spreading the love equally.

She shrugged off her trench coat and hung it on the rack.

Lady Ou emerged from the study at the sound. “Ranran’s home. Eaten yet? I’ve got leftovers in the kitchen—I’ll warm some up for you.”

“Mom,” Ji Yingran shook her head, “I already ate. Not hungry.”

Lady Ou noticed her hand on her shoulder. “What’s up? Shoulder hurt?”

Ji Yingran nodded. “Got bumped on the way back.”

Lady Ou’s eyes widened in alarm, and she rushed over. “Hit by a car?”

Catching the mix-up, Ji Yingran waved it off. “No, a person bumped me. Right on the road—she slammed into my shoulder.”

To be exact, three slams.

Lady Ou exhaled in relief. “You gave me a fright—I pictured a car wreck. Just a bump from someone. You need to explain better.”

“Yeah, my fault,” Ji Yingran said with a smile, dropping her hand from her shoulder. Offhandedly, she added, “Anyone move into that empty Building 10?”

Lady Ou’s smile dimmed at the mention. “Oh, don’t even get me started on that neighbor.”

Ji Yingran blinked in confusion. “What happened?”

She knew Lady Ou loved to mingle—everyone in the complex knew her, from kids to elders, and she chatted with them all.

For Lady Ou to scowl like that, Building 10’s new occupant had to be a nightmare.

Recalling the shoulder assault, Ji Yingran nodded to herself. No doubt about it—a handful.

“What gives? She just moved in, right? Did you two fight?” Ji Yingran pressed.

“Not at all,” Lady Ou replied. “I hadn’t even said hello before she rolled her eyes at me, looking like I was dirt under her feet. I tried chatting her up, and she blanked me. Zero manners.”

“Zero manners” was putting it mildly.

“You think Building 10’s got bad vibes or something?” Lady Ou pivoted abruptly.

“Why say that?” Ji Yingran sank onto the sofa, scooping up a cat and giving it lazy scratches.

Lady Ou took the seat across from her. “Think about it—the last folks there were that obnoxious father-son duo. The kid hurled rocks at windows every day; his dad shrugged it off with ‘he’s just a child.’ Drove everyone up the wall—no one escaped their nonsense.”

“They finally cleared out, but not without blabbing about monsters in Building 10 everywhere. Tarnished the whole complex’s name outside—now folks whisper it’s haunted. Total baloney.”

“Even in leaving, they had to drag everyone down. And just when we’d shaken off one nutcase, here’s another, even worse.”

Ji Yingran scratched under the cat’s chin, unconcerned. “Probably not the end of the world. Bad temper, maybe—no good with people.”

Lady Ou shook her head. “Oh, it’s worse than that.”

“How much worse?”

“You know Auntie Wang from the building across? She brought ginger from back home—super fresh, plump and dewy. More than she could use, so she shared with neighbors door to door.”

“Didn’t want to skip the new face in Building 10—neighborly and all. So she dropped some off. Guess what?”

Ji Yingran ventured, “She turned it down?”

Lady Ou snorted. “Turned it down? She cussed her out. Called her some ‘lowly human’ this and that. Can’t recall the full spiel.”

Lady Ou paused, then smacked her palm in recall. “‘Lowly humans’ and whatever. Come on—if you don’t want ginger, just say so. No need to hurl insults.”

Ji Yingran absorbed the gossip, clicking her tongue inwardly. Difficult didn’t cover it—this one packed a punch.

Her shoulder twinged anew.

“You steer clear of that Building 10 woman from now on,” Lady Ou warned. “You’re too gentle; who knows when she’ll snap at you over nothing.”

Ji Yingran nodded vigorously. Smart plan—give Building 10 a wide berth. Someone slinging “lowly human” at strangers? Not exactly stable…

“How’s the bakery going?” Lady Ou shifted to work talk.

A few years back, she’d opened the place purely for fun. Full steam ahead at first, no complaints about the early mornings and late nights.

Once it stabilized, the headaches multiplied.

Too nice by half—she ran it solo like a dream, but staff turned it into a circus.

“You’ve always been a pushover,” Lady Ou said. “Even with people walking all over you, it takes you forever to notice. If you can’t sort it, Mom will step in.”

Ji Yingran shook her head on reflex, declining.

“You shut me out but mope endlessly. What’s your plan?”

Ji Yingran set the cat aside. “I’ve got it under control. Plus, she’s an old friend—don’t want to torch that bridge.”

“You’re trying to play nice while she tests every limit. Stay classy, and she pegs you as easy pickings.”

Lady Ou almost pressed further but held back, opting for gentle persuasion instead. “People change, Ranran. She was a gem in school, helped you tons. But real life reshapes folks—sometimes beyond recognition.”

“You’re hung up on the past, clinging to the friendship even if it’s soured. Some ties just rot away.”

Ji Yingran fell silent, nodding in quiet agreement. She got it—all of it.

Lady Ou sighed. “If you ask me, it’s that soft heart of yours. Always has been—melting for anyone.”

Ji Yingran cut in to dodge. “Enough, enough. I’m home—let’s skip shop talk. Actually… I am kinda hungry now.”

“You and your excuses—just claimed you ate. Fine, food coming up.”

Lady Ou rose and headed for the kitchen.

Ji Yingran slumped against the sofa back, eyes shut as she exhaled a long breath.

Thud thud.

Thud thud thud.

Footsteps echoed back and forth outside the courtyard.

Ji Yingran’s eyes snapped open. She peered curiously through the window.

The gate stayed dead quiet usually—barely a soul passed all day. So why the racket today? Constant traffic right by the door.

Visibility was poor from inside, so Ji Yingran stepped out into the courtyard for a better look.

There, on the road beyond the gate, paced a woman with flowing silver-white hair—back and forth, this side to that and back again.

Out for a stroll?

If so, why stomp like an elephant?

Recalling Lady Ou’s words—”rude,” “not someone to mess with,” “curses for no reason,” and the like—Ji Yingran didn’t dare get too close. She merely watched from afar.

The white-haired woman, who was “strolling” outside, seemed to notice Ji Yingran’s gaze. She suddenly whipped her head around to look over.

Her gaze was sharp, locking straight onto Ji Yingran.

Startled, Ji Yingran instinctively took two steps back.

But since the white-haired woman had looked her way, Ji Yingran couldn’t very well ignore her out of politeness. Steeling herself, she forced a smile in greeting.

The white-haired woman’s eyes lingered on her for two seconds, then… she rolled her eyes.