Chapter One: Under the Bed

Under the dim streetlight, Jeffrey tossed a cigarette butt, almost burned down to the filter, onto the ground.

Immediately,

his gaze darted quickly to both sides, while habitually crushing the cigarette butt under his leather shoe, rubbing it back and forth.

“Hiss... damn it...”

Jeffrey shook his foot hard. He had forgotten that the sole of his shoe was already so thin it was almost breathable, and now his foot was burned.

The night wind, laced with chill, swept back and forth along the street. There were hardly any pedestrians left; the few in the distance were hurrying along, heads down, wrapped in hats and scarves.

Jeffrey turned up the collar of his coat. The lapels on both sides were shiny with grease from stains, but at this moment, they gave him a sense of being hidden and protected.

Ahead was Mink Street No. 128. From No. 50 to No. 200, all were row houses. People who bought or rented here were probably not tycoons, but at least counted as middle class.

The house in front of him was home to a family of three: the man was a doctor, the woman a teacher, and they had a seven-year-old son.

During the day, a maid would come to clean and tidy up, but she never stayed overnight—she would go home after preparing dinner.

Additionally, this family had a habit: every Saturday night, they would all go out to the theater to watch a show.

The door opened. The man of the house, dressed in a black suit, came out first and started the car parked at the door.

Then, the woman in a red dress led the child out, closed the door, and got into her husband’s car with the child, chatting and laughing.

After that,

the car drove away.

Jeffrey licked his lips, strode forward, vaulted over the low wooden fence that couldn’t even stop a small dog, landed in the flowerbed, quickly climbed the steps, took a key from his pocket, and inserted it.

“Click...”

The crisp sound signaled the door had opened.

Three months ago, when Jeffrey was still a moving company worker, he had helped this family move. The lady of the house, trusting, had given the new house key to the movers. Jeffrey took the opportunity to secretly make a copy.

At the time, he was still hesitating about whether to steal—he had almost lost everything.

Now, he didn’t have to hesitate. Not only did he have nothing, he was also deep in debt.

After opening the door, Jeffrey slipped inside and quickly closed the door.

“After tonight, you should understand why you need to change the locks after moving.”

The first floor was an open kitchen and dining room, plus a maid’s room in the northwest corner.

Jeffrey went straight up to the second floor. He didn’t turn on the lights, but switched on the flashlight he’d brought. The beam was a bit unstable.

“Damn it...”

Jeffrey cursed under his breath again. He knew it was because the batteries were low, but that was only because he’d spent the money meant for batteries on a pack of 5-ruble “Morph” cigarettes.

He banged his elbow on the flashlight a few times, and the light grew a bit brighter.

The second floor had the couple’s master bedroom, a small study, and a washroom.

As for the third floor, since it was an attic, it was only used as the child’s bedroom.

Jeffrey pushed open the master bedroom door. In sight was a large bed and various antique cabinets. He knew that anything valuable in this house was most likely in the master bedroom. Of course, before leaving, he’d still check the study.

“Hiss... hiss... hiss... hiss...”

The sound of static and white noise came.

“Welcome to the ‘Luo Jia Storytime Program.’ I’m your old friend... Alfred. The moon is beautiful tonight. Under such a lovely moon, whatever you do seems to be accompanied by a sense of happiness...”

Jeffrey was startled by the sudden voice. Looking down, he saw it was an old-fashioned peanut-tube radio.

“Damn it, everyone’s left the house and they still don’t know how to save electricity!”

Jeffrey reached out and turned off the radio.

Then, he started searching the dressing table drawers. Usually, the lady of the house liked to keep some frequently worn jewelry and household cash here. Of course, if he could find a jewelry box, that would be even better.

“Click...”

At that moment, the sound of the door opening came from downstairs.

Jeffrey was so startled he almost jumped.

Immediately after, the sound of high heels on the stairs—coming straight for the bedroom.

Jeffrey quickly pushed the drawer back in and turned off his flashlight.

He was just a thief, not a robber. Stealing and robbing were two completely different things—even in court, the charges were not the same.

Most importantly, he simply didn’t have the courage to be a robber!

The sound of high heels came quickly, with a hint of urgency.

Jeffrey had no time to think. He lay down, turned to his side, and rolled under the bed.

“Creak...”

Almost at the same time, the bedroom door was pushed open.

“Snap!”

The light was turned on.