Chapter 4

It was six o’clock in the morning at Cold Cicada Apartment.

Miao Bai had pulled an all-nighter and finally finished the bizarre demands from her client.

She glanced at her phone. It was six-ten—twenty minutes earlier than she’d expected.

The coffee on her desk was only half-drunk and long since gone cold. Miao Bai stretched lazily, then stood up to head for a shower in the bathroom…

Ding-dong, ding-dong—

The doorbell rang.

Miao Bai paused mid-step, glancing uncertainly toward the door.

Ding-dong, ding-dong—

She had no friends, no family. No one in her social circle even knew where she lived. The only person who ever rang her doorbell was the delivery guy.

So this was downright odd. She wondered if it was a neighbor who’d gotten the wrong door, out this early in the morning.

Slipping on her slippers, she shuffled over and opened the door. In that instant, her nerves went taut.

There stood the woman from last night in her turquoise pajamas, beaming with a glow of satisfaction. “Hi! Good morning!”

Miao Bai stared. “How do you know where I live?”

Thanks to that incident a few hours ago, Miao Bai had pegged the woman in front of her as having some mental issues. She’d even mentally dubbed her Patient Number One.

Meng Bai’s lips curved into a bright smile. “That doesn’t matter. Have you had breakfast? I noticed your lights were on all night!”

That mattered a lot! It mattered a hell of a lot!

And even more importantly, standing beside Turquoise Pajamas was another girl. If memory served, she’d introduced herself as Zhou An—which meant she was Patient Number Two.

Both of them wore friendly smiles that somehow came off as eerie as they gazed at Miao Bai. They looked for all the world like escapees from some asylum.

Miao Bai: “?”

Zhou An: “She means, want to grab breakfast together?”

“No thanks.” Miao Bai reached to close the door.

Meng Bai was quicker, grabbing it firmly with one hand. “Miss Miao, I’m sorry about last night. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

“That was scary,” Miao Bai said flatly.

“What was scary?”

“You two were scary.” Miao Bai gently pried Meng Bai’s hand away. “Let me get some sleep, and that’ll be compensation enough.”

She moved to shut the door again.

But these two had come prepared. No way were they letting her close it.

“Hey, wait, wait, wait—” Meng Bai pushed forward a step. “Miss Miao, I know you’re a designer at Little Walnut Company. Don’t write us off just yet. We’re here to work with you.”

“Work with me?”

Zhou An fished a business card from her bag and handed it to Miao Bai, who took it.

Neither of them so much as breathed, afraid that one more word would convince Miao Bai they really were nuts.

Ringing someone’s doorbell at the crack of dawn was pretty weird, after all.

Especially Meng Bai’s line about noticing the lights on all night. That screamed stalker.

Miao Bai skimmed the card. “Oh. Meng Bai?”

Meng Bai pointed at it. “No, no—it’s Meng Bai, not Meng Bo. Bo sounds so ugly, right?”

Miao Bai shoved the card back. “You should contact my company, not me. I’m under contract. I can’t take private jobs.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve already talked to your company.”

Miao Bai hesitated. “You’re sure?”

Meng Bai nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. How else would I know your address?”

“Let me call to confirm.” Miao Bai didn’t invite them in. Instead, she turned away to make the call.

Little Walnut Company was a design firm less than five years old.

Miao Bai had been there since graduating college. She’d turned down countless promotions, claiming she didn’t need them. She had no interest in climbing the ladder.

And that was true. She’d joined the company for one reason: flexible hours.

There were no rigid punch-in, punch-out schedules. Designers just had to hit their deadlines. As long as the work satisfied the clients, you could go a full year without setting foot in the office.

The downside? Work came in waves.

Some months were dead, with barely a handful of projects. Others were insane, demanding all-nighters to keep up.

Miao Bai’s head was already starting to throb. She’d just survived one all-nighter last night, and now this?

Her team lead picked up quickly.

“Yeah, that was me. Great client, though—plenty of time, and they specifically asked for you.”

“For me?”

“Yep. Good pay, too. You’ll get a nice cut.”

The team lead rattled on. Miao Bai half-listened, perking up only at the commission rate.

This Meng lady must be loaded. Such a generous payout?

“Listen, Little Miao, take this one. It’s a rare opportunity. Could turn into steady work.”

Miao Bai didn’t hesitate. “I’ll do it.”

She’d been eyeing a new car this year, still crunching the budget. Opportunity delivered to her door.

“Great, knock it out of the park. Talk soon!”

“Mm.”

Miao Bai hung up with a click and turned back. The two were still standing in the doorway, watching her expectantly like a pair of well-behaved puppies.

“Come on in.”

Meng Bai let out a relieved breath. Finally.

She pulled Zhou An inside and noticed how impeccably clean Miao Bai’s shoe rack was. There was only one pair of slippers—the ones on Miao Bai’s feet.

Her place really didn’t get visitors. Not even shoe covers.

“You’ll have to take your shoes off.”

Zhou An: “What, barefoot?”

Her floors were spotless, at least.

“No extra slippers. I have a thing about cleanliness.” Miao Bai paused. “Or we could just add each other on WeChat and talk there. No need to come in at all.”

Before she could finish, Meng Bai was already kicking off her shoes.

Her toes were clean and pale, nails neatly trimmed. Her feet were so fair that the scar on the back of one stood out starkly.

A long, dark brown line, clearly old.

Miao Bai noticed and couldn’t help staring for a second before looking away.

“Couch is over there. Have a seat. I’m gonna shower.”

Meng Bai nodded. “Sure, no rush.”

She and Zhou An settled on the sofa just as Miao Bai disappeared into the bathroom. Perfect chance to take in the surroundings.

She gave the place a quick once-over. It was a two-bedroom apartment, around seventy or eighty square meters—not too big, not too small, just right for one person.

Perhaps because Miao Bai had studied design, the entire space had a comfortable, refined feel. She clearly loved natural wood tones—light, elegant colors that were sophisticated without being flashy.

“You actually got us in here. You’re something else,” Zhou An said, collapsing onto the sofa and leaning back. “I’m exhausted.”

Meng Bai rubbed her eyes and stopped pretending. “Same here.”

Zhou An squinted at her. “So, what’s your plan for chatting with her later?”

“Wing it.” Meng Bai yawned. “Our goal today is to add her on WeChat.”

Zhou An let her head loll forward, her body sliding sideways until she was propped against a throw pillow. Exhaustion crashed over her in an instant.

She hadn’t slept a wink last night, keeping vigil downstairs with Meng Bai. It had been torture.

“I can’t hold out. I need to close my eyes for a bit.”

“Got it. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

Truth be told, Meng Bai’s voice lacked its usual energy, her eyelids battling furiously to stay open.

Water splashed from the bathroom. Meng Bai slumped against the sofa, which was impossibly soft and inviting. Paired with the steady rush of the shower, it was downright hypnotic.

Hold on. Don’t sleep. Miao Bai won’t take long.

Hold…

The next second, Meng Bai surrendered. Overwhelming fatigue dragged her eyelids down.

Dammit. Couldn’t hold out.

~~~

When Miao Bai emerged from the shower, two people were sprawled across the sofa.

Yes, sprawled—not sitting.

Zhou An was even snoring, the sound piercing in the quiet morning air.

Miao Bai froze in place, unsure what to do.

Should she rouse these two obvious all-nighters, or let the strangers crash on her sofa?

At first, she inclined toward waking them.

But then she reconsidered. No need to play the villain—she was bone-tired herself and needed sleep.

With that, she turned and slipped into her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

~~~

In that nap, Meng Bai dreamed.

Time whisked her away, hurtling back to her distant eighteenth year.

She saw her father, Meng Xingzhong; her stepmother, Lin Li; and Zhou An’s cousin, Zhou Chuxing.

She even saw herself perched in the walnut tree in the Old Courtyard, staring out at the world beyond the wall—that twisting stone path where she had waited endlessly for Miao Bai’s return.

The dream was a somber blue haze, like sinking into the ocean’s depths, consciousness fading, breath stolen away.

“Meng Bai, Meng Bai?” Zhou An patted her cheek. “Wake up. Come on, wake up—you’re having a nightmare again.”

Meng Bai’s eyes flew open. Zhou An’s face swam into view: sharp brows, angular features—the adult Zhou An, not the girl of seventeen.

Meng Bai drew in a ragged breath, lunging for Zhou An’s arm and pulling her into a tight embrace.

“Zhou An, Zhou An…”

“Easy, easy. Breathe slow.” Zhou An drew her close, rubbing her back gently. “I’m right here. I’m here.”

“I dreamed of Dad. I dreamed of Dad again.”

Meng Bai’s voice broke with sobs, the words tumbling out again and again.

Zhou An’s brow furrowed in shared sorrow.

In these ten years, she had lost count—lost count of how many nightmares Meng Bai had suffered about her father.

Meng Xingzhong’s death remained a raw scar on both their hearts, a wound pecked by demons that burrowed inward from the flesh, festering into the bone. Incurable. A lifelong shadow.

“I’m sorry, Meng Bai,” Zhou An whispered. “If I hadn’t disappeared, Uncle never would have died.”

Meng Bai shook her head through her tears. “It’s not your fault. Not at all. It’s his.”

He went by Boss Zhang.

Ten years ago, the boss developing the construction site near the Small Town.

His name was Zhang Gou.

Of course, with Boss Zhang’s character, you might as well call him Zhang Dog instead of Zhang Gou.

Ten years ago, in the first week of Zhou An’s disappearance, Meng Bai heard his name for the first time—from someone else’s lips.