Chuzheng checked the address on her phone, put away the phone, and then pressed the doorbell.
No one opened the door for a long time.
Not at home?
Chuzheng turned around, ready to leave, but her arm bumped into the door, and instantly a crack appeared.
Chuzheng stared at the crack, and after a moment, she reached out and pushed the door open.
The apartment's decor was dominated by black, making the whole space seem cold and rigid, casting an oppressive discomfort.
There was the sound of running water from the bathroom, unceasingly whooshing, presumably drowning out the ring of the doorbell.
Chuzheng had no intention of intruding; she casually inspected the room.
She didn't wander around but just stood in the living room.
Chuzheng checked the time. How long had it been?
Was the person inside preparing to be boiled alive?
Impatient, Chuzheng went over to knock on the door.
Suddenly, the sound of water stopped.