Chapter 3

On the morning of the fifth day, Aunt Wang changed tactics.

The complex garden had a loudspeaker that usually played music or announced notices.

That morning at eight, the loudspeaker suddenly crackled on:

“Attention, neighbors. This is Wang Xiu—”

My cup nearly slipped out of my hand.

“This new young man living in Building 5, the one named Liam, I’ve got my suspicions about him.”

“He doesn’t talk to anyone, doesn’t join any activities, and never opens the door no matter who knocks.”

“I was kind enough to bring him food, and he still gave me attitude.”

“Everyone, keep your distance, especially if you’ve got kids at home.”

The loudspeaker echoed over the whole complex, and everyone could hear it from every corner.

I stood by the window and saw a crowd gather in the garden below, all looking up and listening.

Aunt Wang stood in the middle of the crowd and, after she finished speaking, coughed for a long time. Someone beside her handed her water.

“Does this guy have a criminal record or something?”

“Who knows? No normal person acts like that.”

“Aunt Wang said it, so it’s probably true.”

I clenched my fists, and my nails dug into my palms.

She was using the entire complex’s public opinion to crush me.

If I caved, she won.

If I fought with her, that was exactly what she wanted—she’d lived in this complex for fifteen years and had never lost an argument.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm.

Then I remembered one thing from the research I’d done: the loudspeaker system belonged to the community. Private individuals weren’t allowed to use it.

I picked up my phone and called the neighborhood committee.

“Hello, I’m a resident in Building 5. I wanted to ask if the complex loudspeaker can be used by anyone?”

The young woman who answered said, “No, it can only be used for community notices. Private use isn’t allowed.”

“Then if someone used it this morning to talk trash about me, does that count as a violation?”

“Huh? Who was it?”

“Aunt Wang from Building 6.”

There was a two-second silence on the other end. “—Aunt Wang? Um, let me check with my supervisor. We’ll call you back.”

I waited all day, but no one called me back.

That night I called again. This time a man answered and said he was the director:

“Mr. Liam, right? We’ve looked into it.”

“Aunt Wang was just trying to keep everyone safe out of kindness. Don’t take it to heart.”

“So she can use the loudspeaker to badmouth me just because she meant well?”

“Aunt Wang is older, so maybe she didn’t choose her words carefully. You’re young, so just let it go.”

“Let it go?” I took a deep breath, my voice rising a little.

“She’s insulted me this many times, and even said it on the loudspeaker, and you want me to let it go?”

The director’s voice hardened too.

“Mr. Liam, Aunt Wang is one of our community’s longtime volunteers. She’s contributed a lot to this complex over the years.”

“You just moved in, so you don’t understand.”

“I think we should just drop this. We’re all neighbors. A peaceful neighborhood is a prosperous one.”

He hung up.

I sat in front of my computer and recorded that call too.

Then I opened the document and wrote down what happened today.

Fourth page.

I flipped through the records and suddenly found it all absurd.

I had only wanted to find a quiet place to work and live, but after five days here, I had spoken more to people than I had in the past year.

And it was all arguments.

I spent the whole night tossing and turning, replaying Aunt Wang’s voice from the loudspeaker, the comments in the group chat that backed her up,

and the neighborhood committee director’s “let it go” over and over in my head.

At four in the morning, I stared at the ceiling and made a decision.

I couldn’t keep backing down anymore. But how was I supposed to stop backing down? I couldn’t outargue her, and I couldn’t afford to make a scene.

I thought about it all night, and in the end I figured out one thing—what she was best at was standing on the “I’m doing this for your own good” side and criticizing people.

Then I’d record every word she said and let her see for herself what her so-called “education” really was.

It wasn’t confrontation. It was documentation. It wasn’t arguing. It was making sure she had nowhere left to hide.

So, I needed to go “apologize.”