Chapter 36: Throwing “Sh*t” from High Above

Jiang Yan frowned slightly.

The visitor was none other than Zhang Qiming, the head of the neighborhood owners’ committee and the WeChat group admin—a forty-year-old divorced bachelor.

She hadn’t really interacted with Zhang Qiming before. The only time they’d exchanged WeChat contacts was as a formality when she moved in after completing her home purchase.

He was the one who’d added her to the Qianshuiwan owners’ group chat.

Calling him “greasy” was mostly a gut reaction to his appearance.

It was sweltering hot, and with the water shut off, Zhang Qiming’s hair was plastered to his scalp in sticky clumps.

His face and neck were slick with sweat and oil, flushed red from the heat.

If you wiped your hand across his face, you’d probably come away with a handful of oily sweat beads.

He paced back and forth in front of her door for a few seconds before finally picking up his phone to call her via voice chat.

Jiang Yan, quick on the draw, simply powered off her phone with a single tap.

Outside, Zhang Qiming heard the “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable” message, and instead of getting more anxious, his frown actually relaxed.

Clearly, her phone still had battery—she’d just turned it off.

No wonder she hadn’t replied to any of his messages.

She never spoke up in the owners’ group chat, either.

But he figured that was normal.

After last night’s massive blackout, most people had turned off their phones to save battery for emergencies.

Zhang Qiming didn’t leave. Instead, after hesitating for a second, he raised his hand and knocked on Jiang Yan’s door.

But as soon as his palm slapped the metal door, a powerful electric current zapped through his hand with a loud “zzzzzt!”

A faint smell of singed pork wafted up from his palm.

“Ah! Ah! Ahhh!”

The shock came out of nowhere!

Zhang Qiming’s whole body convulsed like he had Parkinson’s, jerking back several steps like an octopus in a panic.

His palm was scorched and throbbing with pain. After cursing out loud several times, he finally managed to regain his composure.

By now, his face was as pale as a sheet, and sweat poured down his forehead as if a hidden pipe had burst inside his hair.

Jiang Yan had only activated the 110V low-voltage defense.

But with Zhang Qiming’s sweaty hands and drenched body, the shock was much worse than what He Chunmei had experienced earlier.

Once the twitching in his face subsided, Zhang Qiming eyed the door warily, not daring to touch it again. Instead, he edged a little closer and shouted:

“Xiao Jiang, are you home? I have something urgent to tell you, but your phone’s off!”

Jiang Yan’s frown deepened at the way he addressed her.

She remembered Zhang Qiming lived on the 27th or 28th floor—just three or four floors below her on the 32nd.

With today’s scorching heat, even a few steps outside left people gasping for air, let alone climbing stairs.

Yet here he was, at her door first thing in the morning.

He was clearly here with a purpose.

Still, she had no intention of responding and decided to keep playing dead.

Zhang Qiming kept shouting, “Xiao Jiang, is your phone running out of battery? I have several power banks at home—do you want to come over and charge your phone?”

Listening to his lines, which sounded like something out of a sleazy guy’s playbook, Jiang Yan nearly burst out laughing.

Zhang Qiming suddenly paused.

Sure, in the dry winter, you could get a static shock from touching a sweater or something.

But what he just experienced was way beyond a normal static zap.

With his background as a former engineering student, he was sure he’d just been electrocuted!

The safe voltage for the human body is 36 volts.

That shock was way above that.

So, Jiang Yan must have a backup power source!

And, from what he knew, she had air conditioning at home…

Zhang Qiming felt like he’d discovered a new continent, his excitement surging again. “Xiao Jiang, open up! Is your air conditioner still working?!”

Jiang Yan, not wanting to listen to his noise any longer, muted the surveillance audio and continued to play dead.

Zhang Qiming shouted a few more times at her door.

He figured she was probably in her bedroom with the door closed, enjoying the AC and couldn’t hear him. But he didn’t dare knock again, so he turned away, looking disgruntled.

He hadn’t even reached the stairwell when the door to 3203 creaked open. He Chunmei stepped out with a big smile and called out to him:

“Brother Zhang, do you still have power banks at home? Could I borrow one?”

Zhang Qiming glanced back at her with a hint of sarcasm in his voice:

“Chunmei, aren’t you a bit old to be eavesdropping like a kid?”

“Oh come on, Brother Zhang! With that booming voice of yours, who needs to eavesdrop? By the way, what did you call that crazy girl next door—Xiao Jiang? You know her? Mind telling me a bit about her?” He Chunmei batted her eyes at him, her face full of gossip.

It was just too hot, and both her son and daughter were sick. Otherwise, she’d have already gone to the property office to dig up dirt on 3201.

She had asked the property manager, but he’d ignored her.

Bad news travels fast.

The incident where she’d led a group to block 3201’s door and prevent Jiang Yan from going home had spread throughout the complex overnight.

Of course, there were also plenty of people blaming Jiang Yan.

“Chunmei, you’re a mother of two. Don’t be so nosy, alright? Some things are better left unknown!”

With that, Zhang Qiming turned and walked away without looking back.

Some secrets are only valuable if you’re the only one who knows them.

If this big-mouthed gossip found out, all his previous efforts with Jiang Yan would be wasted.

He Chunmei’s smile froze. She glared at his back and cursed under her breath before going back inside.

*

Once Zhang Qiming was gone, Jiang Yan finally picked up her phone.

As soon as she turned it on, a flood of messages and news notifications popped up.

The owners’ group chat was filled with endless arguments and pleas for help.

The chaos had gone on until after 3 a.m.

It wasn’t that people had gone to sleep—most of their phones had just run out of battery.

After that, only a trickle of messages appeared.

Jiang Yan scrolled quickly, but her gaze stopped on a particularly strange photo.

Someone had used a Chinese-brand phone’s “moon mode” before dawn to take a long-distance shot of the central garden and posted it in the group.

In the bluish-gray image, several black shapes were scattered across the colorful rubber paths of the garden.

There were more in the flowerbeds, on the lawn, and in the woods, though fewer in number.

Jiang Yan zoomed in, her pupils contracting sharply. Her phone nearly slipped from her hand.

The black shapes were shriveled, unrecognizable corpses!

On one relatively “fresh” body, huge bloodsucking mosquitoes clustered thickly!

Jiang Yan felt her trypophobia kicking in just looking at it!"