The rain was still falling.
Liu Ruoruo pushed his electric bike into the alley entrance of the old building. The tires rolled over the accumulated water, splashing his pant legs. He didn't stop, directly pushing the bike into the corner of the stairwell, unplugging the key, and putting it in his pocket. The palm of his right hand started to feel hot again, more noticeably than on the street just now, as if something was crawling under his skin.
He looked up at the window on the third floor; the light was on. The building had four floors, and his room was on the very top, facing north, where sunlight never reached. The curtain was half-drawn, revealing the dim yellow light inside.
He walked up the stairs step by step, his footsteps light. With each step, the heat in his right hand intensified. When he reached his doorstep, he stopped and reached into his pocket for his keys, only to hear the sound of high heels from the end of the hallway.
Tap, tap, tap.
The sound wasn't fast, its rhythm steady, coming up from downstairs. A woman in a long black dress, carrying a briefcase, stopped in front of his door.
She was tall, her hair neatly tied back, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose.
Liu Ruoruo didn't move.
"Are you Liu Ruoruo?" the woman asked, her voice even.
"Who are you?"
"Su Lengyue." She took out a folder from her bag and placed it on the small table by the door. "Work injury assessment. The X-rays and reports from the hospital on the day you had your accident are all in here."
Liu Ruoruo glanced down. The folder was dark blue, its edges somewhat worn, looking like it had been used for many years.
"I don't need this."
"But you need to know." she said. "Zhang Weishan's Charity Fund is prepared to give you 30,000 yuan to buy out all your future compensation. Medical expenses, lost wages, disability benefits, all included. If you sign, you cannot pursue any further."
Liu Ruoruo let out a cold laugh. "They're really generous."
"Not generous," Su Lengyue looked at him. "They've calculated that you have no one to help you, no background, you're a delivery man, living in a place like this. If something happens, you can only accept it. 30,000 yuan is too little even for a beggar, but they think it's enough."
Liu Ruoruo stared at her. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I can help you." She pushed her glasses up. "Make them pay ten times, or even more. Do you dare?"
"I don't know you."
"You don't need to." The corners of her mouth curved slightly. "I only look at results. You've torn up checks, twisted a bodyguard's arm, and dared to ride a broken bike into the rain. People like you won't sign obediently."
Liu Ruoruo was silent for a few seconds, then reached for the folder. As soon as he touched the edge, there was a faint sound from inside the room.
Like a reflection of light.
He suddenly looked up, towards the rooftop of the opposite building. A metallic glint flashed by, so fast it was almost invisible. He reacted with lightning speed, grabbed the folder, took half a step back, and leaned against the wall.
Su Lengyue had already moved.
She stepped to the window in one stride and pulled the faded curtain closed with a swift, decisive motion. Then she turned back and looked at Liu Ruoruo. "Have you felt anything unusual about your body recently? Like wounds healing too fast, or uncontrollable strength?"
Liu Ruoruo's eyes tightened.
He didn't speak, slowly tucking his hand back into his sleeve.
"Who sent you?" he asked.
"No one sent me." she said. "I'm a lawyer, specializing in work injury cases. Someone anonymously submitted your case materials to me. I read them and found something suspicious. For a normal person to be hit by a car and suffer nerve damage in their right hand, it's impossible to be able to lift a twenty-kilogram water bucket with one hand the next day."
Liu Ruoruo didn't deny it.
"So what?"
"So I know you're not simple." She stepped closer. "And I know you're being targeted right now. A change of personnel at your delivery station, your landlord might evict you, your bank records are being scrutinized – these are not coincidences. They are pressuring you to bow your head and sign that agreement."
"And then what?"
"I'll help you bite back." she said. "Using the law as a weapon, make them pay you, apologize, and publicly retract their statement. You don't need to do anything, no fighting, just cooperate with me through the process."
"What are the conditions?"
"Fifty-fifty split." she said. "You get five, I get five. I don't collect fees in advance; I only get paid if we win."
Liu Ruoruo looked at her, silent for a long time.
The sound of the rain outside grew louder, pattering against the tin roof. The light in the room flickered once, then steadied.
"You said Zhang Weishan wants to commend me tomorrow?" he suddenly asked.
"Yes." Su Lengyue nodded. "A charity gala, with media invited, to package you as a 'Resilient Worker Representative,' presenting you with consolation money on the spot. 30,000 yuan, handed to you on camera. The moment you accept it, you tacitly agree, and it will be extremely difficult to appeal later."
"They're putting on a show, and I can't expose it?"
"You can." she looked at him. "But you need to understand one thing first – you are no longer just an injured worker. There's something about you that they don't know. And I know you don't want to be treated as a dead pawn."
Liu Ruoruo looked down at his right hand.
The sleeve covered his wrist, but he could feel the pattern there still pulsing, the heat not subsiding.
"How can you prove what you're saying is true?" he asked.
Su Lengyue opened the folder and handed him a photograph.
The photo showed an internal document, titled "Compensation Plan Evaluation Report." The content clearly stated: "Target individual has weak social connections, no legal awareness, and low psychological resilience. A one-time compensation settlement is recommended for a swift resolution."
Below it was a signature: Li Dehai, Project Manager, Zhang Weishan Foundation.
"This person," Su Lengyue said, "is your delivery station manager's elder brother."
Liu Ruoruo's gaze darkened.He remembered Li Jidu deliberately blocking the passageway with a water bucket that morning and his words, "Heard your right hand is crippled.
" So it wasn't a coincidence; it was a pre-arranged play.
"What else do you know?" he asked.
"I know that the landlord of the place you're currently living in signed a consignment agreement yesterday afternoon, transferring management rights to a third-party company." she said. "Zhang Weishan has shares in that company."
Liu Ruoruo looked up. "They even want to touch my housing?"
"More than that." She closed the folder. "The hospital where your mother is admitted has recently changed its financial system. After the new system goes live, all patients with overdue bills will be unified and pursued. The deadline is seven days."
Liu Ruoruo's fist slowly clenched.
"What exactly do you want me to do?" his voice lowered.
"Don't go to the gala tomorrow." she said. "Don't let them turn you into a hero archetype. If you go, you become their tool. If you don't go, you are resisting. Only those who resist have the right to negotiate."
"And then?"
"Then we sue." she said. "Sue them for concealing the truth of the accident, for maliciously lowballing compensation, and for infringing workers' rights. I'm already collecting evidence. As soon as you agree, we'll start tomorrow."
Liu Ruoruo looked at her, silent for a long time.
The rain continued to fall outside, the lights in the hallway flickered on and off.
"Aren't you afraid of causing trouble?" he asked.
"I am afraid." she said. "But I'm more afraid of watching someone get trampled to death without a sound."
Liu Ruoruo looked down at the photo in his hand, then at the work injury assessment. The paper was ordinary, but the names on it were real, the dates were real, and the hospital's official seal was real.
He suddenly smiled.
It was a brief smile, gone as quickly as his lips curved. "You said they want me to sign an agreement?" he asked.
"Yes."
"What if I don't?"
"They will escalate." she said. "They might suspend your work, cut off your income, send people to harass you, or even make your living situation unbearable."
"And then?"
"Then you won't be able to hold on, and you'll sign anyway." she looked at him. "Unless you have another path."
Liu Ruoruo placed the folder on the table and slowly rolled up the sleeve of his right arm.
The patterns on his skin were deeper than during the day, a dark red color, with slightly raised edges. He stared at it for a few seconds, then lowered his sleeve.
"I have a question." he said.
"Go ahead."
"You reacted very quickly to that glint you saw earlier." he looked at her. "That's not a reaction an ordinary person would have. Who exactly are you?"
Su Lengyue didn't answer.
She simply turned, picked up her bag, and opened the door.
"I'll contact you again tomorrow morning at ten. Don't go out, don't answer calls from strangers, and don't sign any documents." she said.
She walked out, the sound of her high heels echoing in the stairwell as she descended.
Liu Ruoruo stood at the doorway, motionless.
A few seconds later, he suddenly turned back into his room, locked the door behind him, and slid the chain. He then walked to the window. Instead of drawing the curtain, he squatted down and pulled an old box out from under the bed.
The box was very old, its edges worn white. He opened the lock and took out a mobile phone.
It was black, with a crack on the screen. This was his old backup phone; he hadn't thrown it away.
He pressed the power button.
The screen lit up.
The signal bars were full.
He opened the SMS list.
The first message was received three days ago, from an unknown number, containing only one line:
【They have started acting on people around you. Be careful of every link you trust.】
He stared at the message, his finger hovering over the screen.
The rain outside grew heavier.
At the alley entrance downstairs, a black car slowly drove by, its headlights sweeping across the wall before disappearing around the corner.
Liu Ruoruo didn't look up.
He simply put the phone back into the box, closed the lid, and slid it back under the bed.
Then he sat down at the table and opened the work injury assessment. His name was on the first page. The photo showed him lying in a hospital bed, pale, his right hand bandaged. He flipped through the pages, looking at the CT report, the nerve damage assessment, and the doctor's note stating "low probability of recovery." When he reached the last page, his finger paused. A sticky note was attached there, handwritten:
【You are not just injured in the hand, but in the Mèn. But they don't know you can still stand up.】
There was no signature below it.
Only three numbers: 7, 3, 9.
He stared at the numbers, unmoving for a long time.
The light in the room flickered again.
He looked up at the ceiling; the wire junction was a bit black.
He stood up and casually moved the desk lamp aside.
The light tilted, shining onto the wall. A small mirror was hanging on the wall, which he used to check his clothes before going out. His reflection appeared in the mirror, along with the door behind him.
The moment he turned, the mirror surface suddenly flickered. Not a reflection.
It was the doorknob moving.
Very subtly, with a small amplitude, as if someone was testing the lock from the outside.
Liu Ruoruo immediately turned back. The door was locked, and the chain was still on.
He walked over and pressed his ear against the door.
There was no sound from outside.
He took a step back and looked down at the gap under the door. A thin piece of paper was being pushed through from below, slowly sliding into the room.