Chapter 1
Edward Quan ·
The woman came into my shop at seven in the evening.
She'd dropped her phone and cracked the screen. She wanted a replacement.
It took me an hour to fix it.
While she wasn't paying attention, I installed the screen-monitoring software.
I even hid the app's icon from the home screen.
Once the repair was done, she paid, thanked me, and left.
The moment she stepped outside, I couldn't wait to take out my own phone.
I opened the monitoring interface.
A clear, live view of her phone screen appeared.
8:02 p.m.
She was booking a car through a ride-hailing app.
The pickup point had automatically been set to the front of my shop.
Her destination was Chrysanthemum Gardens.
I looked up through the doorway.
There she was, standing by the curb with her back to me, waiting for her ride.
A graceful, slender figure.
The night breeze lifted one corner of her skirt.
Beneath the streetlight, her slender shoulder formed a pale curve.
I stroked my phone screen and smiled.
Chrysanthemum Gardens. I knew the place well.
Not far away. There'd be plenty to watch.
A beautiful woman like her, living alone…
Who knew how many secrets her phone might hold?
8:04 p.m.
She left the ride-hailing app and switched to WeChat.
Then she opened the first pinned conversation.
The contact was saved as “A-Zhe.”
She quickly typed:
[My phone broke when I dropped it. Just got it fixed.]
Almost as soon as she'd sent it, a reply appeared.
[No wonder you weren't answering my messages.]
[I thought something had happened to you!]
She sent a cute hugging sticker.
Then added:
[I'm heading home now, waiting for my ride. Have you finished work?]
A-Zhe's reply came quickly.
[Still working overtime. I might be a bit late coming over.]
[Be careful on the way. Message me when you're home.]
She replied, [Okay], then left WeChat.
The ride-hailing app reappeared.
[1.4 km away. Estimated arrival: 5 minutes.]
…
I pursed my lips, faintly annoyed.
A-Zhe?
Sounded like a man's name. Apparently, she wasn't single.
That took some of the fun out of it.
Still, they didn't seem to live together.
And couples' conversations were more interesting anyway.
Maybe I'd get to read something intimate.
8:05 p.m.
Perhaps bored with waiting, she opened a content-sharing app.
The home page recommended a post titled “Autumn/Winter Makeup for the Perfect Mood.”
She tapped it and enlarged a close-up of the blogger's eye makeup.
After a little over ten seconds, she scrolled on.
Next came “A Safety Guide for Women Living Alone.”
It listed tips for preventing break-ins and avoiding stalkers.
She saved it without hesitation.
Then typed a comment:
“Saving this right away. You really do have to be careful when you live alone!”
She paused and deleted it.
A thumbs-up sticker took its place.
…
I watched and gave a quiet sneer.
Deleting that comment made it look as though she was afraid of revealing that she lived alone.
Deliberately concealing information.
But it did remind me of something.
She lived alone and was this guarded.
Clearly, she wasn't the meek, harmless little lamb she appeared to be.
8:09 p.m.
The ride-hailing app reappeared.
Then an incoming-call screen popped up.
The caller ID showed the driver's masked number.
Thirty seconds later, the call ended.
Her screen went black.
She'd clearly pressed the lock button.
I looked outside again.
A car had just stopped at the curb.
She got in, closed the door, and left.
It soon merged into the darkness and vanished at the end of the street.
…
I stared at the black screen.
Beneath the surface, my thoughts churned.
The real show was only beginning.
Once she got home and let her guard down…
That was when the world inside her phone would get interesting.
8:10 p.m.
Her screen lit up again.
Straight to WeChat.
She sent A-Zhe a message.
[I'm in the car.]
Then switched back to the ride-hailing app.
She refreshed the car's live location, opened “Share Trip,” and sent A-Zhe the link.
Next, a food-delivery app.
She opened her frequently ordered meals.
Scrolled past several spicy-noodle places she'd used before.
Hesitated for a few seconds, then backed out.
Instead, she searched for “light salads.”
Filtered for free delivery.
Opened the shop with the most orders.
She selected a chicken-and-vegetable salad and two cups of unsweetened soy milk.
The address was Apartment 604, Building 4, Chrysanthemum Gardens.
In the instructions, she wrote:
[Less dressing. Two sets of cutlery. Please leave it at the door, no need to knock. Thank you.]
After paying, she sent A-Zhe a screenshot.
[Something light tonight. Want to come eat with me after work?]
He quickly sent a sticker of someone crying with hunger.
[Ugh, they suddenly gave me another report. I'll be here until ten. Eat first when it arrives.]
…
I glanced instinctively at the clock on the wall.
Then went over her address again.
Apartment 604, Building 4, Chrysanthemum Gardens.
A little thrill ran through me.
Two sets of cutlery?
So A-Zhe really was coming over tonight.
Good.
Once they were together, perhaps there'd be something more exciting to “watch.”
I licked my lips.
My anticipation grew.
8:30 p.m.
Her phone screen lit up again.
“Destination reached” appeared in the ride-hailing app.
The trip details showed the south gate of Chrysanthemum Gardens as the endpoint.
The fare was 12.8 yuan.
She opened the payment screen.
Entered her password: 925741.
Once she'd paid, the screen went dark.
…
I repeated the numbers to myself twice.
Committed them to memory.
Useful.
Might come in handy someday.
I lifted the glass in my hand, running a fingertip around its rim.
Closed my eyes.
Imagined her entering the complex, stepping into the corridor.
Light footsteps, carrying the chill of the night breeze.