Chapter 85: Nan Street Apartment
After finishing the news article, everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
“Is this female reporter… talking about Qu Rong?”
Fu Huan hesitated. “But Qu Rong doesn’t seem like someone who would commit suicide.”
That was true. Qu Rong appeared cheerful and bright—her smile warm, her demeanor open and confident. There was nothing in her that suggested despair or the kind of helplessness that leads to self-harm.
Li Zhi read the article again.
The woman had filed a formal report accusing her superior of repeatedly sexually assaulting subordinates under the guise of work. She wasn’t the only victim—but she was the first to speak out.
After filing the report, her supervisor accused her of making it up out of resentment over being passed over for promotion. Authorities investigated but found no solid evidence. The reporter was met with widespread doubt.
With no proof, she tried to prove her truth through death—but survived her wrist-cutting attempt and was rescued.
What happened after her rescue? What became of the sexual assault case? The article didn’t say.
“It’s exactly like Xiao Ke’s story,” Xiang Ling said quietly, placing two newspapers side by side. “Both women chose suicide when they had nowhere else to go. Both were saved—but neither escape their pain.”
Her voice was low, yet firm: “The harm keeps going.”
Was Xiao Ke truly free from forced marriage after being rescued from the rooftop?
Would Qu Rong really silence the doubters and mockers just because she tried to kill herself?
After fighting for their lives—what awaited them? A new beginning? Or deeper suffering?
Fu Huan felt a spark of realization: “There must be a connection between these two. Both ended up living in this apartment after trying to die. Is there something special about this building?”
A moment later, Li Zhi replied slowly, “Not because the building is different… but because of what’s the same inside it.”
Li Feng caught on. “You mean Chen Meixi?”
Li Zhi nodded. “A woman trapped in long-term domestic abuse, unable to escape her husband for various reasons. Her situation is essentially the same as Xiao Ke’s and Qu Rong’s—same pain, same torment, same desperation.”
Fu Huan clenched her fist: “So will Chen Meixi also try to take her own life? Or has she already done it? Didn’t Madam Qiu say she hasn’t heard any more sounds of beating for months? Could it be that her suicide attempt scared Chu Guangyan into stopping?”
“But one thing doesn’t add up,” one player frowned. “If Qu Rong herself has suffered such abuse, why would she get so close to Chu Guangyan—the man who abused his wife to the point of driving her to suicide? Doesn’t that disgust her?”
Another player offered: “Maybe she doesn’t know.”
Someone immediately countered: “Impossible! If even Madam Qiu downstairs knows, how could Qu Rong not hear it from just one floor above?”
They debated for a while without resolution. This replica, like its mission, remained confusing and unclear. Everyone felt discouraged.
“We’ve gathered a lot of clues!” Fu Huan tried to motivate the group. “We just need one final thread to tie them all together!”
Li Zhi stood up. “It’ll soon be time for people to come home from work. Let’s talk to as many residents as we can.”
Everyone nodded and left Room 104 to split up.
Seeing Li Zhi and Meng Yuhan heading upstairs, Fu Huan followed. “Boss, where are you going?”
“To check the sixth floor again,” Li Zhi replied.
Fu Huan was curious too. “I’m coming with you. I want to meet Chen Meixi.”
The three climbed the stairs to the top floor. It seemed only two families lived here—Chu Guangyan and Chen Meixi in 603, and the curly-haired auntie in 606. Her outer door was open for ventilation, though the inner mesh screen remained closed.
The hallway smelled faintly of stewed meat. In the shared kitchen, a small pot simmered over the coal stove.
Li Zhi approached the screen door and smiled politely: “Auntie, what kind of soup are you making? It smells amazing—I could smell it from downstairs.”
The curly-haired woman opened the door. “Oh, just a regular soup.”
Li Zhi grinned. “Mr. Chu made soup yesterday too. Sixth floor seems to eat well.”
The woman gave a sharp little laugh. “We don’t have it as good as them. Some people stay home all day and still have everything handed to them. I have to cook my own meals.”
Fu Huan couldn’t hold back: “You call that ‘having it good’? A woman getting beaten? You jealous? Then why don’t you swap places with her? You can enjoy both the soup and the bruises!”
The woman scowled. “Who do you think you are?! Talking like that!”
Fu Huan crossed her arms, unflinching. “That’s how I talk. You keep saying how lucky she is to live comfortably without working—but where were you when she was being abused? Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“She gets beaten—that’s none of my business!” The auntie snapped, revealing her true thoughts in anger. “And besides, she deserved it! Can’t even give birth. Who among us women doesn’t get hit now and then? Chu is handsome, has a great job—he’s hard to find these days. Getting hit isn’t a big deal! Why should she get all the luck?”
“And did she die when she threatened to? No! She still clings to her life. Lucky her, finding a good man like Mr. Chu! Many women aren’t as fortunate!”
Fu Huan almost laughed. “So you’re saying misery makes a woman deserve happiness? By your logic, women can only choose men from trash bins?”
As the two argued, Li Zhi kept watching Room 603.
This much noise—it was impossible for Chen Meixi not to hear.
Hearing her neighbor insult her like that—did it hurt? Or was she simply… unable to respond?
The conversation confirmed what Madam Qiu had said—Chen Meixi had once thought about suicide.
After exhausting the argument, Fu Huan signaled Li Zhi and quickly backed off.
The auntie chased after them, shouting: “Don’t walk away! Come back and fight me properly!”
Li Zhi gently reached out—and the woman suddenly collapsed to her knees with a loud thud, nearly shattering her kneecaps.
A nearby bystander gasped: “Auntie, what happened? Hurry, stand up.”
Pain and rage choked her words. She couldn’t even curse anymore.
Li Zhi gave her a polite smile—not helping, not slowing down. She turned and walked away.
Back on the first floor, Fu Huan waited at the stairwell entrance, winking as she saw Li Zhi approach: “How was it? Pretty good, right?”
Li Zhi gave her a thumbs-up.
Fu Huan smirked, then sighed bitterly: “Still, people like that make me sick. They suffer themselves but hate seeing others happy. They seek comfort in others' misery.”
Li Zhi checked the time.
Dusk was approaching.
She handed Meng off to Fu Huan and returned to the sixth floor alone.
This time, she made no noise. Quietly, she slipped into the washroom across from 603.
Chu Guangyan would be home soon. During the day, Chen Meixi never showed up—maybe she was locked away, maybe restricted in some way. But Madam Qiu mentioned Chen helped her prepare the soul-cleansing feast recently—around evening time.
Perhaps, like the spirits on the second floor, her freedom was limited—only allowed to move after her husband came home.
That meant this window—when Chu returned—might be the best chance to see her. Even hearing her voice might confirm something.
The sixth floor was quiet.
Li Zhi stood near the restroom door, listening to the footsteps of the curly-haired woman in the corridor behind her. She carried her soup pot back inside, grumbling under her breath before slamming the door shut—clearly still fuming.
Li Zhi waited.
Then, finally, she heard heavy footsteps climbing the stairs.
Steady. Calm. Not rushed. She imagined Chu Guangyan carrying his briefcase up the steps. Keys jangled. The door clicked open. Then shut.
No other sound.
No greeting from inside. No sign of another person living within.
Even the audience, waiting anxiously, began commenting:
【Guess we’ll have to force our way in after all】
【Maybe she's dead inside？】
【This is so suspenseful I'm dying】
【黎知你到底在等什么啊？！】
But Li Zhi, hidden in the restroom, showed no signs of rushing. Her expression remained calm, unchanged.
Time passed.
Finally, footsteps echoed in the hall again.
These weren’t the same as before. Lighter. Softer.
Li Zhi stepped out of the restroom.
In the hallway stood a young woman holding a basket of vegetables, her face gentle and pretty. She entered the shared kitchen, seemingly preparing to cook dinner.
Spotting someone exiting the restroom, she jumped slightly.
Room 603 was slightly open behind her. Water ran inside.
“Hi,” Li Zhi greeted warmly. “I’m a new neighbor, Room 205. Our floor’s water supply is out, so I came up to use the restroom.”
The woman smiled kindly. “Hello.”
Li Zhi extended her hand. “Are you Mrs. Chu?”
She nodded. “Yes. Chen Meixi.”
Li Zhi shook her hand. “I’ve heard of you from Mr. Chu. Is he back yet?”
Chen Meixi nodded. “He just took a shower.”
Her hands were warm, soft—very much alive.
Li Zhi smiled. “Nice. Do you have an en-suite bathroom? That’s convenient.”
Chen Meixi replied gently, “Yes. My husband renovated it himself. He’s a bit of a clean freak. Doesn’t like using the public bath.”
Li Zhi observed her closely—nothing seemed off.
Chen Meixi gave an apologetic smile. “I should start cooking.”
Li Zhi waved. “Sure. Talk next time. Bye.”
Chen Meixi smiled. “See you.”
She turned and walked away, graceful and composed. Behind her, the sound of running water continued inside 603.