Shen Du was completely absorbed in petting Song Yunqiao, utterly unaware of the strange happenings beside him.
“Shen Du!”
Song Nanxing, anxious, called out to Shen Du directly. The twisted, writhing shadow on the ground vanished in an instant as if startled. Shen Du turned his head, looking at him in surprise, “Song Nanxing? You just got home?”
Song Nanxing replied with a casual “Mm,” and said, “Ran into a little accident.”
His eyes, however, were fixed on the Teddy Dog lying on the ground, his brows instinctively furrowing, a faint trace of hostility in his gaze:
“Why are you here?”
He was actually asking Song Yunqiao, but Shen Du probably thought the question was for him and explained, “I was about to go downstairs to take out the trash, and saw this dog sitting at your door. It looks well cared for, so it probably isn’t a stray. Maybe it accidentally wandered off from one of the residents upstairs. I was going to take it home and help find its owner when the property management comes in later.”
He seemed to really like animals. His hand gently stroked Song Yunqiao’s curly fur, his eyes overflowing with tenderness and affection.
“You’ve lived here longer than me, have you seen it before?”
“I’ve seen it.”
Song Nanxing’s eyelid twitched. Remembering how Song Yunqiao had stood up and spoken in the underground garage, and then looking at how it was now obediently pretending to be a cute little dog, he couldn’t help but get goosebumps.
Shen Du didn’t even realize that what he was gently petting might not actually be a dog at all.
“That’s the dog of a resident on the Sixth Floor,” Song Nanxing said. “I know its owner, give the dog to me, I’ll take it upstairs.”
But Shen Du clearly liked the dog a lot. He didn’t mind that Song Yunqiao’s muddy paws might dirty his snowy white shirt. He bent down and very gently picked Song Yunqiao up, supporting its hind legs so it could comfortably lie in his arms, then said to Song Nanxing, “I’ll go with you. It’ll be a good chance to meet the new neighbor.”
Song Nanxing: “…….”
He hesitated, “The neighbor on the Sixth Floor… their temper isn’t very good.”
Shen Du looked unconvinced, “Someone who keeps a dog can’t be a bad person.”
As he spoke, he was already carrying Song Yunqiao toward the stairwell. Noticing that Song Nanxing hadn’t moved, he even turned back to look at him.
Song Nanxing felt a dull ache in his head.
He sighed, rubbing his temples, and had no choice but to go upstairs with Shen Du.
When they passed the Fifth Floor, both of them were startled by a figure crouching in the corner of the stairwell.
The person clearly hadn’t expected anyone to be coming up so early in the morning. He looked up at them, then quickly got to his feet and left.
When he lifted his face, Song Nanxing got a good look at him—a very pretty, delicate-looking young man, probably eighteen or nineteen years old.
Shen Du was very enthusiastic about meeting new neighbors, “Is he also a neighbor in our building? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”
Song Nanxing said, “I think he’s from the Fifth Floor. I’ve only run into him two or three times.”
The young man had a gloomy air about him. Whenever they met, he always kept his head down and hurried by. Song Nanxing only had a vague impression of him.
He hesitated for a moment, then kindly reminded Shen Du, “Some of the neighbors in our building are a bit… strange.”
Shen Du looked a little puzzled, “You mean that guy just now? There are way weirder students at university—some even crawl around on the track in the middle of the night instead of sleeping.”
Song Nanxing was left speechless by Shen Du’s blind optimism, not knowing how to explain.
Anyway, what he meant by “strange” was definitely not what Shen Du was thinking.
Song Nanxing thought about it for a long time with a blank face, but couldn’t come up with a good explanation, so he silently followed Shen Du up to the Sixth Floor.
Shen Du knocked on the door of 601 with his knuckles.
After about four or five minutes, Jing Rao opened the door with a sullen expression, her body blocking the entrance. Her snow-white face was half-hidden in shadow, and the dark red, wide-sleeved qipao she wore made her look like a vengeful ghost straight out of a horror story. Only when she saw the Teddy Dog in Shen Du’s arms did a look of surprise and joy finally appear on her pale face, “Song Yunqiao?”
Shen Du handed Song Yunqiao over, “I saw him on the Fourth Floor. Song Nanxing said he’s your dog.”
“Yes, he’s mine. I’ve been looking everywhere for him.”
Jing Rao reached out to take him, and Song Yunqiao whimpered, eagerly leaping from Shen Du’s arms into Jing Rao’s embrace. Jing Rao looked a little surprised, kneading his ears and saying, “Out wandering for a few days—finally scared, aren’t you?”
Song Yunqiao whimpered and buried his head in her arms, his body trembling uncontrollably.
“I’ve been looking for him for two or three days. Thank you both so much. If you don’t mind, would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” Jing Rao pinched the back of Song Yunqiao’s neck and stepped aside to invite them in.
With her body no longer blocking the view, the glass display cabinet in the entryway behind her was revealed, packed full of rows upon rows of Dolls.
Maybe it was just the angle, but from Song Nanxing’s perspective, it seemed like all those Dolls were turning their heads to look at them.
Shen Du was clearly a bit spooked, staring at the glass cabinet without blinking.
Jing Rao noticed his reaction and giggled, her slender fingers, painted with bright red nail polish, gently stroking Song Yunqiao’s fur as she said in a breezy tone, “Don’t be scared. They’re locked up and can’t come out to bite anyone.”
“Sorry, I was just a little startled to see so many Dolls all of a sudden.” Shen Du lowered his gaze, looking embarrassed by his own loss of composure.
Jing Rao said, “The Doll Shop outside the neighborhood is mine. If you like any of them, I’ll give you one.” Her fox-like eyes shimmered, and her red lips curled into a sly smile, “But let me warn you first—if you don’t take good care of them, they might bite.”
Seeing that Shen Du looked tempted but was too embarrassed to accept, Song Nanxing quickly spoke up to refuse, “Thank you, these Dolls are so delicate and look expensive. We really haven’t done anything to deserve such a generous gift.”
Shen Du nodded in agreement.
Since they refused, Jing Rao didn’t insist. She hugged Song Yunqiao and walked inside, saying, “Then come in and have some tea.”
Song Nanxing didn’t really want to go in. He didn’t want to have too much contact with this strange neighbor—he’d only volunteered to return Song Yunqiao out of concern that Shen Du might get hurt without knowing it.
But Jing Rao had already gone to the living room and started pouring tea from the pot. At this point, it would be rude to refuse, so he and Shen Du exchanged a glance and had no choice but to go in and sit down.
601 was two apartments combined, making it much more spacious. The decor was similar to the Doll Shop, with a cold, metallic feel.
Besides the table and chairs they sat at, the living room was filled with rows of glass display cabinets. The cabinets had silver-gray metal frames that reflected the cold light of the vintage crystal chandelier.
Song Nanxing lowered his eyes, not wanting to look around too much. As his gaze passed a cabinet full of sculptures, he suddenly paused.
—On the fourth shelf of the display cabinet, there was a lifelike toad sculpture.
On the toad’s back was branded a twisted human figure being scorched by flames.
Exactly the same as that strange insignia.
Jing Rao noticed Song Nanxing’s distraction, followed his gaze, and raised her long, thin brows, “Do you like that specimen?”
Song Nanxing snapped out of it, “That’s a specimen?”
Jing Rao set the freshly brewed tea in front of them, “Mm, I make specimens sometimes when I’m in a bad mood.”
But she didn’t explain where the specimen came from.
Song Nanxing’s mind was full of doubts, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to ask too much about the toad or the insignia on its back, so he could only reply, “Oh, I didn’t expect that you’re not only great at making Dolls, but your specimens are beautiful too.”
Jing Rao sipped her tea with a smile and used a dinner knife to cut the tea snacks perfectly into eight pieces, “I used to be a doctor. I’m pretty good with my hands.”
Song Nanxing and Shen Du only had a cup of tea at 601 before taking their leave.
On the way downstairs, Shen Du was still marveling, “So the neighbor on the Sixth Floor is an artist.”
Song Nanxing’s eye twitched. An apartment full of Dolls and specimens, plus a dog that could talk—how could she not be called an artist?
By the time they finished their conversation, they were already back on the Fourth Floor. Song Nanxing said goodbye to Shen Du and went back to his own apartment.
He took a shower and came out wrapped in a towel, still thinking about the specimen he had seen at Jing Rao’s place.
His mind was snowballing with questions, but his tired body couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. Song Nanxing lay down on his bed and, before he knew it, fell asleep.
He hadn’t dreamed in a long time.
In his dream, he was back to when he was four or five years old. He’d been locked in a room, Song Cheng had gone to work, and the house was quiet. The afternoon sunlight crept in through the window, and the old ceiling fan, forgotten and left on, spun slowly, its blades making a creaking “zhi-niu zhi-niu” sound.
He pressed his face against the glass window, counting how many leaves were on the tree outside. Just then, his mother came with the key and unlocked the door for him.
His mother would always smile at him so gently, play games with him, read him stories from picture books, and bake warm, fragrant sponge cakes for him.
The sweet smell of the cake filled the whole house, even making the dream itself sweet.
This was the precious memory he kept hidden deep in his heart. Even in his sleep, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curl up.
But in the dream, he never got to eat the cake. For some reason, Song Cheng came home early and, finding out that his mother had let him out to play, his expression turned terrifying.
Song Cheng was tall and imposing, and with a dark face, he stepped closer, questioning, “How did you get out?”
His mother was so frightened she didn’t dare speak, wanting to protect him but not daring to.
Afraid of causing trouble for his mother, he pressed his lips together and obediently went back to his room.
Song Cheng, still grim-faced, brought over two more locks and locked the door tightly.
The warm smell of cake was shut out. He pressed his face against the glass and saw Song Cheng stride into the kitchen, take out a tray of slightly burnt sponge cakes, and dump them all into the trash.
He stared, wide-eyed, at the cakes in the trash.
His mother stood outside, flustered and helpless, her gentle face tinged with sadness. Her soft hand stroked Song Nanxing’s face through the glass and she comforted him in a gentle voice, “Don’t be afraid, Xingxing. Be good and listen to Daddy. When you grow up, you’ll be free.”
He looked at his mother in confusion, not really understanding what she meant. His mother gazed at him with a sad, gentle look, and suddenly, countless black tendrils emerged from her face, reaching through the door and wrapping tightly around him—
Song Nanxing woke up from the dream with a start, his heart pounding like a drum, and could only gulp for air to calm himself.
Just then, the doorbell rang. He picked up his phone and glanced at the time, realizing he’d slept all the way to the afternoon.
Song Nanxing pinched the bridge of his nose, dragging his tired body to open the door.
As soon as the door opened, a wave of warm, sweet fragrance rushed into his nose. Shen Du was standing at the door, holding a plate of freshly baked, fluffy, golden sponge cakes, smiling gently at him, “I made some cake. I brought you some to try.”
It’ll be crazy if ML was his mom