The dusk closed in, and the mottled tubular building stood tall in the last touch of sunset glow.
The taxi rolled over the puddles and came to a slow stop in front of the flower bed.
The car door opened, and Wen Xin, holding Zhou Xiumei's hand, hopped out of the car. The laughter of the two girls, like silver bells, echoed through the corridor.
Fang Cheng followed out of the car, habitually looking up towards the top floor, at the familiar window of his home.
The light was off, with not a trace of brightness.
From the building came the clatter of a spatula in a frying pan, the crying of some unknown child, mixed with the fragrance of food wafting in the air.
Fang Cheng first escorted Wen Xin to the door of her home in the basement, waved her goodbye, then turned to walk with Zhou Xiumei to the ninth floor.
"Brother Cheng."
At the door of room 906, Zhou Xiumei hesitated for a moment, then turned around holding her guitar case.
