"Your honesty is something I appreciate, but honestly, you're already at uncle age and still shamelessly call yourself a youth—that's what I can't stand. I started learning self-defense against perverts when I was ten, just to deal with creeps like you." Holding a transparent umbrella, Grace Lincoln squatted down and patted his cheek. "Stupid uncle, if you dare talk about 'bras' with strangers again, I'll kick you to death, got it?" With that, Grace Lincoln dragged her suitcase and ran ahead.

Finally, having escaped that perverted mage without incident, Grace Lincoln followed the address marked on the map to find her future home.

It was a standalone high-rise apartment building, the environment much better than Grace Lincoln had imagined, and there was even a security guard.

Although the guard was already asleep, that fake police uniform still gave a bit of a sense of security, right?

At exactly 4 a.m., Grace Lincoln's phone rang, the caller ID showing "Landlord."

"Are you here?" a low female voice came through the receiver.

"I'm here. I should've arrived earlier, but I ran into a crazy idiot on the way and got delayed. Where are you?" Grace Lincoln looked up at the building.

"Take the elevator up, 14th floor, 1440 (wanna die die you)."

"Okay, I'll be right up!" Grace Lincoln quickly entered the elevator, and as it rose, her mood improved a lot.

You know, this was inside the third ring road, and an apartment building at that. Judging by the exterior, the place couldn't be more than five years old. Even though it was a shared apartment and the room might be small, this environment was way better than when she was in France, living in someone else's basement as a student.

This might be the first good thing that had happened to Grace Lincoln since returning to China. She decided that as soon as it was light, she'd go look for a job—whether it was as a cashier at KFC or handing out flyers on the street, she wouldn't talk to her parents again until they remarried.

Lost in thought, the elevator dinged and arrived at the 14th floor—the top floor. The hallway was very dim. The light at the elevator entrance was broken, and the flickering bulb made the blood-red "14" on the wall appear and disappear.

"Why is the light broken?" Grace Lincoln dragged her suitcase and started looking for 1440. As soon as she turned away from the elevator, the flickering light behind her made the "14" on the wall suddenly start to bleed.

The long hallway was laid out like a hotel, so quiet that only the rumbling of Grace Lincoln's suitcase wheels could be heard. Her shadow behind her stretched long, eerily changing from black to a dark, blood-clotted red.

Behind every door in the corridor, a sinister eye watched her through the peephole, following her movements.

Walking straight ahead along the right side, Grace Lincoln soon found the door marked 1440.

She happily raised her hand to knock, but the wooden door suddenly swung open halfway.

Standing there was a woman in a bright red, sheer lace bodysuit. Her skin was as pale as paper, a few curlers tangled in her hair, looking a bit unkempt, probably around 34 or 35, but still quite attractive.

"Grace Lincoln?" the woman asked.

"Yes, that's me. I heard you have a room for rent, 400 a month, right?" Grace Lincoln was afraid the landlord would change her mind—she really didn't have much money left.

"Come in first." The woman stepped aside, opening the door wider. The creaking sound was like a demon's laughter.

As soon as Grace Lincoln dragged her suitcase into the room, the woman's expression suddenly darkened and she slammed the door shut.

Suddenly, a piercing "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" rang out. Only then did they realize the door had caught someone's foot. When they opened the door, it was that idiot from the rainy night, the one drinking lollipops.

"Idiot? You followed me?!" Grace Lincoln glared angrily.

"Follow you my ass, my leg is about to break. And my name's not Idiot, it's Jason Grant, ten as in one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten, and three as in one-two-three." Sitting outside the door, Jason Grant plopped down on his old suitcase, still carrying that extra-long urn on his back, hugging his foot, tears streaming down his face.

"Kid, you're pretty 'special' to have made it up to the 14th floor." The woman in red leaned against the doorframe, sizing him up with a ghostly pale smile.

"Beauty, you're pretty special too. Red lace nightgown, paired with that 36F figure—you're a real stunner. As they say, if the breasts don't gather, how can the hearts?" As soon as Jason Grant started talking to the beauty, he immediately put on his pervert face.

"Gather your ass! You pervert, looking for a beating, huh? Get lost!" Grace Lincoln immediately got into a fighting stance.

"Go away, go away, flat-chested creatures be gone! I'm not interested in you anymore. Now, my heart is burning with passion for this beauty, and all that fire is focused in one place." Jason Grant waved Grace Lincoln away.

"Hehehehe, men are just so adorable. Are you here to rent a room too?" The woman in red was amused by Jason Grant, her laughter sounding just like Sadako from "The Ring."

"Yes."

"But I only have one room left," the woman in red said helplessly.

"Rent it to me!" Jason Grant and Grace Lincoln shouted in unison.