Chapter 813: Unexpected Guest in the Attic

Outside the window, endless rain fell into the night, while inside, the room was brightly lit, filled with the aroma of wine.

“Lie Lao, I’ve taken care of that cop named Han Luoxi for you. Here’s the evidence she collected related to you,” said the subordinate as he handed over an envelope.

Lie Guoxiao set down his wine glass, opened the envelope, and chuckled, “This little girl is looking for trouble. Working with Mr. Zhou is truly refreshing. Every time I mention a name, you make them disappear. Mr. Zhou is indeed remarkable!”

Seated on the sofa, Zhou Tiannan smiled modestly, “By the way, about Han Luoxi, her boyfriend happens to be the cop who’s been causing us trouble. I took some liberties, and did you see today’s police bulletin?”

Immediately, his subordinate searched on his phone and handed it to Lie Guoxiao. The police had just posted a wanted notice on Weibo: Suspect Song Lang, former captain of the Second Criminal Investigation Team, suspected of shooting two colleagues and currently on the run, with a reward of 100,000 RMB for any information leading to his capture.

Lie Guoxiao frowned, “Shooting colleagues? Truly heinous. I’ll speak with their chief. As a law-abiding citizen, I’m willing to offer another million as a reward!”

It was a joke, and both Zhou Tiannan and Lie Guoxiao laughed. After the laughter subsided, Lie Guoxiao remarked, “Mr. Zhou’s methods are indeed brilliant. Though I think it’s best to eliminate him; a vengeful heart is the most terrifying. Who knows, he might return to haunt us.”

Zhou Tiannan gazed out into the dark window, “No, in this absurd world, staying alive is the real torment. Imagine his situation now—hiding, sneaking around. Survival will force him to abandon his meaningless principles. Eventually, he’ll become the very person he once despised. He poses no threat to me now, couldn’t before, and won’t later. When he truly becomes a threat, disposing of him will be as easy as flipping a hand. Until then, let him suffer.”

“Haha, Mr. Zhou, you do have your ambitions. I’m just a mundane man who knows how to make money.”

A sudden uninvited guest arrived in Dogskin Lane. His face was wrapped in thick bandages, beneath which bloodshot eyes could be faintly seen. He wore a worn-out coat on a rainy day and rhythmically knocked on Kao Wei’s door.

When Kao Wei opened the door, she nearly dropped her teacup in shock, mistaking him for a criminal. She was about to close the door when she caught his arm. His grip was strong but not rough. Before Kao Wei could call out, the bandaged man pointed to a paper on the wall.

“Do you want to rent the attic?”

The bandaged man nodded.

“Wait… wait for my husband to come back!” she stuttered.

“You don’t have a husband,” he said hoarsely, his vocal cords sounding injured.

“How did you know?” Kao Wei had just lied and was afraid of this man.

The bandaged man pointed to her shoes, her knee, her fingers. Kao Wei didn’t understand what he meant, but the bandaged man seemed unwilling to say more.

She reluctantly let him in and showed him the attic. It was a low-ceilinged, dilapidated space with just a mattress. To use the toilet, one had to go outside to a public one in the alley. It was hot in summer, cold in winter, and leaked in the rain—a bit better than a prison cell.

Kao Wei only rented it out to make ends meet and felt embarrassed showing it to anyone. She said, “The price is negotiable…”

The bandaged man pulled out a stack of bills, enough for a month’s rent. Kao Wei asked, “Are you staying here for a month?”

He nodded.

She had meant to refuse short-term rentals, but this man was too scary, and the attic was indeed hard to rent out. She reluctantly agreed, suddenly becoming a landlord and feeling somewhat uneasy. “If you need water, come downstairs. I can order takeout for your meals, but you pay. You can come and go normally, but don’t touch anything downstairs. No going out after ten at night, and no smoking inside. I’ll get you a can to use as an ashtray. Please try not to smoke indoors; this place is really afraid of fire.”

She went downstairs. Kao Wei’s home was an old tiled house with one room up and one down, no distinction between living room and bedroom. She used curtains to separate her sleeping area. Poverty was a norm in Dogskin Lane, one of the dirtiest and messiest areas in Long’an.

With this money, she planned to repay Mrs. Zhang’s debt next door. Kao Wei sighed; she owed debts large and small, some long-term, some with only monthly interest payments, and her meager income never seemed enough. She could only endure day by day.

At Mrs. Zhang’s place, who took the money with a smile, she also preached some life wisdom, “Xiao Wei, not to blame Mrs. Zhang, you young people don’t know how to live. Spend money recklessly, do you know how much I spend in a day? Ten yuan! Every night, I put a bucket under the faucet, just a light twist, and the water meter doesn’t move. I can collect a big bucket overnight, and I haven’t paid water bills for half a year; also, the nearby market, I pick up discarded vegetable leaves every night, go with those old ladies, and eat without spending money. Of course, managing money is not just about thrift, but also about opening up sources. Put your money into a financial plan, and you’ll get monthly returns. I earned fifty bucks this month! It doesn’t seem like much now, but when I have more downlines, it’ll be five hundred, five thousand, oh, then I’ll be counting money every day at home.”

Mrs. Zhang never strayed from discussing her suspicious financial products, trying to recruit Kao Wei, her face flushed, her eyes glowing as if she’d just taken ginseng.

“No, no, I still don’t earn enough money. Financial planning is not a priority,” Kao Wei laughed off.

“Ah, if you don’t manage money, money won’t manage you!” Mrs. Zhang felt sorry for her.

The poorly soundproofed wall suddenly emitted a disgusting noise, Mrs. Zhang rolled her eyes and slapped the wall, “Old man, be quiet, it’s disgusting during the day!”

Next door lived an old tailor, always dressed in a dusty suit with bright white hair combed sleekly, always tucked with a neat handkerchief in his chest. He frequented various places of ill repute and racked up high-interest loans.

Recently, he discovered a “freeloading” method: making skirts popular with young people, which he could use to lure young girls into his shop. The old tailor bought such books, made them, and attracted young girls to his shop every few days.

They often stayed for more than ten minutes, leaving in beautiful new skirts while the old tailor smoked, drawing a “straight” on the wall with chalk.

A siren sounded from afar, the creepy noises next door suddenly stopped, the old man gasped and said, “Quickly put on clothes… put on your original one!”

“Grandpa, cheat! You said you’d have to go after you finished, and give me this skirt.”