The streetlamps stretched
"Behind all the bustle of the city, there's actually a neighborhood this quiet." Chen Ge walked between the darkened buildings, following a narrow concrete path to the deepest part of the residential block.
A faint stench hung in the air. The roadside trash bins hadn't been emptied in ages—piles of household garbage stuffed into plastic bags sat heaped together, and now and then something would scurry out from among them.
Compared to the other buildings nearby, the one before Chen Ge looked even more run-down. The first-floor walls were smeared with all manner of stains, and the stairwell entrance was cluttered with sundry belongings.
"Found it." Chen Ge regarded the six-story apartment building before him. This was the place advertised on the posters outside the residential area.
"The location the Black Phone designated is Room 303 on the third floor.
He didn't call Dr. Gao. He walked straight into the stairwell.
The ceilings were low—barely two meters ten on each floor. The railings were made of iron, and at regular intervals, a red string had been tied around them, their purpose unclear.
Once inside, Chen Ge caught a strange smell. It was faint, not exactly a stink—someone who lived here might have grown so used to it that they no longer noticed. But since this was his first visit, it registered clearly.
"It's a bit like the smell of spoiled food." Chen Ge paused on the first floor, trying to locate the source of the odor, but found nothing. It was as though the building itself were exuding the smell, soaked into every brick of the walls.
There were no lights in the stairwell. Chen Ge took out his phone to illuminate his way.
Four households were crammed onto the first floor, making it feel suffocating. The sound insulation was poor—he could clearly hear a quarrel going on inside one of the apartments.
Treading softly, Chen Ge made his way to the third floor. He didn't rush to knock on the door of Room 303. Instead, he stood outside and listened for a moment.
Of the four households on this floor, the television in Room 301 was blaring at full volume. In Room 302, a man was on the phone, his emotions clearly unstable. The two phrases Chen Ge heard him repeat most often were: "Stop pressuring me" and "Are you trying to drive me to my death?"
Rooms 303 and 304, however, were utterly silent.
After lingering for two or three minutes, Chen Ge gently knocked on the door of Room 303. Interestingly, the very moment he did—
The TV in 301 was immediately turned down. The man in 302 seemed to stop his phone call as well. The entire third floor suddenly went quiet.
Chen Ge knocked for a full minute, but the door still didn't open. Frowning, he called out in a low voice: "Men Nan? You in there?"
No response. Just as Chen Ge was wondering whether he'd made a mistake, the door to Room 301 opened.
A disheveled middle-aged man slouched against the doorframe, the thick reek of alcohol clinging to him. "Hey! Who're you looking for?"
"Men Nan in 303. He's a student at Jiujiang Medical University. I heard he hasn't been feeling well lately, so I came to check on him."
"You've got the wrong place. I don't know who Men Nan is, but he definitely doesn't live in 303." The man scratched his face. His left cheek looked like it had been bitten by a mosquito—he'd already scratched the skin raw.