"Isn't that because I'm afraid of disturbing you two?" Madam Zhang glanced at her and teased, "You two are always so close."
As she spoke, she saw that Chen Meng was a little embarrassed, and added: "But that's how love is. It was the same for me and my husband back then."
"Really?" Chen Meng's eyes widened. Although she knew that the couple had a good relationship, they were actually very reserved when they were out in public...
"My wife and I met here too," Mr. Chen, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke up. "My wife used to live on the fifth floor, and we bumped into each other on the stairs. I fell in love with her at first sight."
Mrs. Zhang walked over and took the trash bag from his hand. "I was just like you back then. I didn't continue working after moving in with him. I was quite worried at first, but later I realized I made the right choice."
Qiao Yan was not very interested in their love story. Seeing that Chen Meng and Mrs. Zhang were talking about many similarities in their relationships and seemed to be ready to talk at length, she and Xie Quan quickly found an excuse to leave first.
Xie Quan's room was very clean, well ventilated and had no peculiar smell. Qiao Yan had no objection to this, as she was just there to do an experiment for one night.
[She seems nervous about the child, but Sister Qiao is actually not interested in him at all.]
I think Sister Qiao left too early. She should have listened to the conversation between Madam Zhang and Chen Meng.
[These are just love stories, what's so good about them?]
[That's right, and their views on love are so "traditional." Why do they have to give up work just to have a relationship?]
[I can't understand.]
People’s pursuits are different.
[Has anyone noticed? The word '也' appears a bit too often. Their love stories are so similar?]
[Love is all the same, right? Oh, forget it. I'm not interested in romance.]
Qiao Yan found a place to put her things. Xie Quan looked at a loss. After hesitating for a long time, he just said that he would go see if there was anything to eat in the refrigerator, which meant that he was going to cook lunch.
Qiao Yan ignored the way he left in a panic. She heard a dog barking outside, which sounded quite fierce and attracted her over.
But when she got outside and looked, there was nothing there, the barking of the dogs had stopped, and she saw only the uniformed security guard slowly walking back to the security booth.
It was already quiet downstairs. I guess they had finished chatting and left.
There were a few more people coming in and out of the residential building on Saturday. Qiao Yan looked above their heads and heard a crackling sound coming from inside the house.
She hurried into the house and almost tripped over something at the door. When she came out, there was nothing at the door either?
A plate was broken at the kitchen door, and the cold dishes fell to the floor. The thing that almost tripped Qiao Yan was also the thing that scared Xie Quan and caused him to drop the dishes.
It's that wooden chair.
Qiao Yan and Xie Quan looked at each other across the wooden chair and the mess on the ground. Qiao Yan saw something called absurd in the other's eyes.
"This chair, how... did it get up here?" Xie Quan's eyes reflected the wooden chair and Qiao Yan's indifferent expression.
"I told you, it's haunted." Qiao Yan closed the door, walked around the wooden chair and entered the house. Xie Quan was stunned when he heard her ask, "Do you think we can go to Room 403?"
Xie Quan immediately took a breath and asked in a low voice: "You mean... watching from outside, right?"
"Let's go in and take a look." Qiao Yan sat down on the sofa. Her head began to throb with pain, as if someone was drilling into her head with a drill.
Xie Quan stepped over the mess on the ground with his long legs and walked up to her: "Do you really want to go in?"
"Anyway, there's no surveillance." Qiao Yan raised her hand and rubbed her temples. "Do you have gloves or something at home?"
"...Yes." Xie Quan was silent for a moment, turned around and took out the brand new gloves from the locker and put them on the table.
"Thank you." Qiao Yan looked at the gloves with her eyes half closed, not knowing what she was thinking, which made Xie Quan feel very uneasy.
"Have you encountered this kind of thing before?" he asked, as if he was afraid of touching a sore spot for Qiao Yan, but in fact he was overthinking it.
Qiao Yan shook her head: "It started after we moved here."
Others have lived here for a long time without any problems, but she encountered this as soon as she arrived. She is so unlucky.
"How have you been these days?"
"The first night, I heard crying and knocking on the door." Qiao Yan raised her eyes to look at him. "The next day, someone was burning paper money near the community. That afternoon, I had a strange dream. When I woke up, the police were at my door. At night, I kept having dreams, and in my dream, this chair also came into my house."
It seemed that because too many incredible things happened in a short period of time, Qiao Yan looked a little numb, but if you look closely, you will find that her fingers are shaking slightly, and it is obvious that she is not really indifferent to these things.
Every word that Qiao Yan said challenged Xie Quan's three views. In his past life, he had never encountered such incredible things.
He calmed down and said with unexpected determination: "I'll go to Room 403 with you!"
It was certainly not a good idea to go there during the day, after all, it was not a legitimate thing to do, so they had to stay with the wooden chair until nightfall.
Come to think of it, this seemed to be the first time that Qiao Yan actually walked out of the house at night.
It was very quiet, not much different from the situation in the dream. The old light bulb in the corridor was not bright, and mosquitoes flew past my ears, making a buzzing sound.
Xie Quan walked in front and Qiao Yan followed behind. Both of them wore gloves, but it looked like they were doing this for the first time, and there was a sense of unprofessionalism and awkwardness.
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