Moving

Thud… thud…

The rhythmic, not-too-loud knocking sounded, accompanied by the meow of the family’s chubby cat in response. Standing on the balcony in a white tank top, the elderly man watering his flowers slowly turned his head. Grabbing his cane, he made his way to the door with uneven footsteps.

As the door opened, the gray tabby bolted out like a wild horse, only to be caught by a pair of firm hands.

"Meow!"

"Old man, you should teach this cat a lesson. It dashes out the moment the door opens—it’ll get lost again," Ye Shuang said with a chuckle, hefting the hefty gas canister in his hand.

It was heavy.

"Must be in heat," the old man replied with a kind smile upon seeing Ye Shuang.

"Then let’s get it neutered."

The moment Ye Shuang said this, the plump blue cat squirming in his hands suddenly froze. It began nervously licking its nose, eyes wide with alarm.

"Sir, are you busy? Did I come at a bad time?" Ye Shuang realized he’d forgotten to bring fruit on impulse.

"Not at all, not at all. Come in. I don’t have much to offer, though."

Once inside, Ye Shuang set the cat down. The apartment was old and worn, the air thick with the scent of traditional medicine. Beside the outdated TV was a family photo, packed with seven or eight people.

"Those are my son and daughter. They graduated from top universities and now live abroad," the old man said proudly, his cloudy eyes brightening as he noticed Ye Shuang looking at the photo.

"Why don’t you join them?"

"Ah, at my age, I’d just be a burden to them," the old man replied, his wrinkled face forcing a smile. But Ye Shuang caught a flicker of loneliness in his eyes.

Even in old age, parents still think from their children’s perspective.

"Sir, to be honest, I came to ask about Bai Yuyou’s family," Ye Shuang said plainly after sitting down.

"How much do you know?"

The old man fell silent for a moment before answering. "Young man, it seems you don’t know much about their family either. But since you’re asking, I’ll tell you what I know."

"The head of that household was Bai Laoqi. They didn’t originally live in the unit downstairs—they were in the top-floor apartment of the next building, the one with the attic."

"He had a younger wife. I’m not sure what they did for a living, but it probably wasn’t anything legitimate."

Ye Shuang frowned. "Why do you say that?"

The old man chuckled. "I used to be a security guard here. Once, I asked Bai Laoqi why they were coming home so late at night. He immediately started yelling at me, like he had something to hide."

After a pause, Ye Shuang asked, "What about the child?"

"That’s what I was getting to," the old man continued. "Bai Laoqi and his wife—who knows which one was infertile—but her belly never swelled up."

"Then one day, they suddenly had a child, around five or six years old. Bai Laoqi claimed it was their kid from their rural hometown, raised by the grandmother until they brought her here."

The old man scoffed. "That child was fair-skinned, adorable, and dressed in clothes that didn’t look rural at all."

"But whenever someone questioned Bai Laoqi, he’d turn red in the neck and threaten to chop them up."

"And he was cruel. He’d beat that child black and blue when drunk, often knocking her unconscious. But it was a family matter, and Bai Laoqi was violent—always pulling out a knife to threaten people—so no one dared interfere."

"Eventually, everyone just got used to it."

"Years later, Bai Laoqi disappeared. His wife claimed the child had developed a mental disorder from trauma, even mimicking her father by waving knives around, so they locked her in the attic to keep her from hurting others."

"Much later, Bai Laoqi’s wife sold the house and bought another unit in this complex—the one they live in now."

"But for some reason, she vanished two years ago, leaving the child behind."

"Now that child’s grown up, but she’s clearly unwell. She doesn’t respond when called or spoken to—just drifts through life in a daze." The old man sighed. "That’s all I know."

Ye Shuang felt a chill run down his spine as a horrifying possibility dawned on him—though some pieces still didn’t fit.

"Sir, was Bai Laoqi’s family wealthy?"

"Not at all. He gambled, borrowed money constantly, and even stole petty things."

Ye Shuang frowned.

"Young man, what’s your relationship with that child? She seems different now—did she get treatment?"

Ye Shuang shook his head. "She was never sick. She just grew up isolated, without communication or education. Right now, I’m taking care of her."

Hearing that Bai Yuyou wasn’t actually ill, the old man slapped his knee angrily. "What a tragedy!"

"Sir, do you know what happened to Bai Laoqi and his wife?"

The old man thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"Rumors say Bai Laoqi was arrested for killing someone with a knife. His wife supposedly ran off with another man."

"But who knows if it’s true?"

Ye Shuang nodded. "Sir, the property’s under Bai Laoqi’s wife’s name, right?"

"I think so."

"Got it."

After saying goodbye, Ye Shuang returned to the apartment downstairs, his heart heavy.

That couple… might not even be Bai Yuyou’s real parents. Of course, it was just a guess—but at the very least, they’d treated her horribly.

A child beaten unconscious at such a young age—Ye Shuang couldn’t fathom what Bai Yuyou had endured.

"We need to move. Who knows when those people might come back?" he muttered, exhaling deeply.

And he’d have to take Bai Yuyou to the police station to register her information. Getting her DNA on record was crucial.