I vomited until I was gasping, my insides churning. Sitting on the bathroom floor, drenched in cold sweat, my vision flickered with black spots.
After a while, I managed to stand, washed my face, and staggered out of the bathroom, swaying with every step.
As I headed to my room to sleep, I noticed the pair of men's slippers outside the opposite room's door were gone. What the hell? Had the other tenant come back?
I was too exhausted to think about it and collapsed into bed.
That night was hell. Nightmares woke me nearly every hour. Only near dawn did I finally get some decent sleep, but then my phone alarm blared.
I sat up, head pounding, still nauseous. Checking the time, I realized I had work. Groggy, I got dressed and left my room.
Heading to the bathroom, I froze—a man's silhouette was inside. Last night's events flooded back. *Li Damin?!*
I slapped his shoulder. He turned, revealing a gaunt guy, about my age, bald, wearing thick glasses, cheeks sunken like a chain smoker. He reminded me of the lead from *Breaking Bad*, exuding a restless, unapproachable vibe.
"You the new guy?" he asked.
"Yeah." I wasn't in the mood to chat.
"Let's introduce ourselves. I'm Li Yang."
"Funny, I'm Liu Yang."
"Which 'Yang'?" he asked.
"The one with three water radicals, like the ocean."
He looked at me. "You lacking water in your five elements?"
His question stumped me. I had no idea why my dad picked my name.
When I didn't respond, he continued, "Since we're under the same roof, let's be clear. I don't like messy people or anyone snooping into my life. We keep to ourselves, no interference. I'm not always here, so the place's cleanliness is on you."
His attitude pissed me off. He didn't even glance at me, just slung a towel over his shoulder and walked out, entering his room. As the door opened, I glimpsed an orderly space stacked with books. Most shocking was a red sword hanging on the wall. Before I could look closer, he slammed the door shut.
*What a prick,* I cursed under my breath. Skinny as a rail, I could take him in a fight. I'd find a chance to put him in his place.
At work, I grabbed a pancake roll and sat at my desk, browsing news while eating.
The office goddess walked by, gave me a disdainful glance, and covered her nose. Ever since I stood her up, she wouldn't even talk to me.
She had no shortage of suitors. A guy from the planning department was at her desk, flirting and talking about magic tricks to show off. She giggled.
He said, "Know how they pull a pigeon out of an empty hat?"
"No idea," she replied.
"I'll tell you—there's a hidden compartment. It's not as simple as it looks. The pigeon's stashed inside…"
At that, I shouted, dropping my pancake, potato strings spilling all over me.
The goddess shot me a look. "Freak."
*Compartment? Empty?*
A wild, yet plausible, idea hit me. Why was the building's top floor ceiling so high? Could there be a hidden compartment in the structure?
Another thing bugged me. The staircase from the 21st floor to the rooftop turned once at three meters, making it six meters total—two stories high. If my theory was right, between the 21st floor and the rooftop, there was a hidden floor, plus the rooftop's two-story-high ceiling. That meant at least three floors of hidden space in the building!
How could I confirm this? I couldn't focus at work, my mind consumed by this mystery.
In a restless haze, quitting time finally came. I grabbed my bag and rushed out, only to run into the department manager at the door. He puffed on a cigarette. "Little Liu, what's the hurry? Let's talk."
He droned on about work ethic and living up to the company's "grand platform." I was antsy, eyes glazing over, but couldn't interrupt. After an eternity, he let me go.
Back at Garden Community, I stood at the base of the building, looking up, calculating. Even with clever design, a three-story hidden space should show some external clues.
How could I spot them?
I circled the building twice, then my eyes landed on Building A across the way. The two buildings were about the same height, standing nearly parallel and close together. Observing my building from Building A's top floor might reveal something.
Skipping dinner, I entered Building A and took the elevator to the top—also the 21st floor. Unlike my building, this one buzzed with life. It was dinnertime, and the hallway was lively with people coming and going.
At a corner window, I found a good angle and looked at my building. I located the 21st floor and estimated the distance to the rooftop.
It checked out—there was at least a three-story gap between the 21st floor and the rooftop!
I pulled out paper and a pen, sketching. Three questions arose: If the building hid such a large space, first, how could you access it? Second, what was the architect hiding? Third, was this bizarre design linked to Ma Danlong?
Ma Danlong, a man who could cross life and death, summoning souls from the underworld. If this was connected to him, could that space hide… the underworld?
My breathing quickened. I shook my head, laughing at myself. Even if the underworld existed, it wouldn't be just three stories big.
Focus on the practical—how to get into that space?
I flipped my sketch, mentally reconstructing a 3D model of the building. Deep in thought, a voice startled me from behind: "What're you doing?"
I nearly dropped my paper. Turning, I saw Li Yang, my roommate, with a DSLR camera, staring at me coldly.
He walked over, unceremoniously grabbing my sketch and studying it. I'm not the sharpest, so I'm obsessive about detailed notes to avoid confusion later. My sketch meticulously outlined my suspicions about the building.
Not wanting to reveal too much, I snatched it back. He snapped out of it, saying, "You've noticed something's off with that building too?"
I snapped, "What's it to you? Why're you here? Following me?"
He chuckled. "If anyone's following, I could say it's you. This is my third time here observing the building."
"You?!" I asked. "Who the hell are you?"
He smirked. "Who are *you*? I don't buy that an ordinary tenant would research their building this deeply without a motive."
I sensed he knew more than he let on.
Li Yang pulled out a pack of Hongmei cigarettes. "Smoke?"
"Sure."
Sharing a cigarette is probably the fastest way for two strangers to break the ice.
We stood by the window, puffing smoke, staring at the building across.
"Might as well share info. What's your deal?" I said.
He didn't haggle. "I'm looking for my cousin." He pointed at the building, gaze distant. "He went missing in there."
"Your cousin?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Funny, I'm looking for a friend too. Been out of touch for days. What's your cousin's name?"
"Li Damin," he said.
*Holy shit.* I slapped my thigh. "You're his cousin? My friend's Li Damin!"
Li Yang glanced at me, flashing a yellowed smoker's grin. "Small world. You in the Lamp League? How come I've never seen you? What's your group handle?"
*Lamp League?* I was lost.
"Oh, you don't know," Li Yang said. "The Lamp League is a VIP urban explorers' group in our city, been around seven or eight years. I'm a member, and I got Li Damin in."
I was pissed. "That jerk never told me about this."
"Here's the deal," Li Yang said. "The Lamp League isn't for just anyone. You've got to join every group activity and own a full set of pro exploration gear. That takes time and money. Think about it—who has that kind of cash and free time to burn? Li Damin was looking out for you. You don't fit the bill, so why bother telling you?"
"Tell me what you know," he said, handing me his camera.
I flipped through his photos—high-quality shots of the building, inside and out, every angle, every corner, thorough as hell.
One photo stopped me cold. It was the rooftop.
The rooftop was vast, maybe a third of a football field, covered in white sand under a serene blue sky. It looked like a poetic snapshot, almost tranquil.
"You've been to the rooftop?" I blurted, then realized how dumb that was. How else would he have the photo?
"Yeah," he said gravely. "Before Lin Xia's suicide. Back then, the rooftop wasn't locked. You could just go up."