Chapter 47: The Undeliverable Delivery (VI)

You didn't care about other people's families when you were a kid, and you didn't care about what they did in the army, and now that you're in society, you don't really want to get involved in that kind of stuff.

So you tell the woman on the phone that you don't need any serious money, that you'll stop by later when you're delivering the courier, and that you'll forget about taking pictures, because you think it's not good to pry into other people's privacy, and advise her to find a professional.

The owner of the courier was disappointed to hear that you didn't know how to take pictures. She said she was a long distance train crew member, worked a lot and had a small life, and didn't know how to find a private investigator, but thank you.

You hear that she is a reasonable person who will catch you asking for help and is perhaps just sick and desperate.

With this feeling, you knock on her door with the delivery in your arms.

The door is opened by a distinguished-looking man with glasses, who opens the door with regret, and when he sees the uniform you are wearing, his puzzlement turns to surprise.

"Whose delivery is it?"

He naturally reached for it.

You give the name of the owner of the delivery and ask him to sign on your behalf.

You hear footsteps in the direction of the bedroom and look up to see that it is not a woman but a young man who has come out.

"It's a man, so the mistress of the house's speculation was pure mediocrity, great."

You think to yourself.

Instead of panicking and signing first, the man in the glasses opens the delivery in front of you.

"It's a birthday present from her. She told me before she left to open it in person before I signed it so I wouldn't break it."

He unwraps the box in front of you, revealing the latest iPhone inside.

"Wow, that woman was pretty good to you, it's an XS, 256G costs nearly 10,000 now, right?"

The young man squeezed over, leaned his chin on the shoulder of the man with the glasses, reached over and took the phone out of the box and said enviously, "That's nice, I'd like to have a new phone too."

You think there's something odd about the lad, but you can't quite put your finger on what's wrong.

"I'll buy you one later, this one was a gift from her and it's not good for you."

The man with the glasses laughed and pinched his nose, finished the signature and gave you the slip.

He was polite to you, nodding his head in reminder.

"I've checked it and it's fine. Please."

You hear him politely urging you to leave, so you take the slip and turn around.

The other person probably thought you would close the door with your hand, like most takeaway masters, and so didn't notice that you had left the door open at the entrance.

"How much longer are you going to act with that woman? Didn't you say you'd get a divorce after you'd fooled your parents?"

You vaguely hear the lad complaining.

"Tian Tian and I are like thieves, we still have to wait for her to go to work before we can get together with you!"

"Isn't that good? What's the difference between divorcing or not divorcing when she goes out for a few days and doesn't come back as soon as she goes to work anyway and gets together less and less a month?"

The feeling of something not being right grows in you and your instincts lead you to pull out your phone, quietly raising it inside the door and taking a blind photo as you slam the door in your hand.

After the photo is taken, you see that you have indeed captured a human figure and your heart beats like a drum.

Gently closing the door of the house, you run down the stairs as if you were fleeing.

The first time you do something like this, you feel like a thief and your heart can't calm down for days.

It's a long way out on the delivery bike before you dial the other party's number.

"Well?"

The woman asks you on the other end of the phone with a few moments of anticipation and a few moments of hesitation.

"There are no women in your house."

You answer her.

"But there was a young man."

The woman was silent on the other side of the phone for a good long while.

"And did you take pictures, please?"

She asked in a whisper, "Can I add you to WeChat if I take a picture? I can show you my ID, my home address is where you deliver, my parents bought this house for me when I was in school, and I'm not some weirdo."

You didn't hesitate and chose to add her to WeChat.

At this point, you rummage through your phone for the photo you just secretly took and prepare to send it to her.

You are stunned to see the blurred figure in the photo.

I was too nervous to pay attention just now, but now you see the full picture.

The jaded man and the lad were hugging, in the kind of way common to lovers?

An odd suspicion pops into your head, but you don't dare to think about it in that direction because of your simple and private nature.

After checking the photo and address on the person's ID card and confirming that the woman who asked you for help was the woman in the wedding photo in the living room of that house, you sighed and sent her this photo of them hugging anyway.

[No wonder I can't find long hair in the house or traces left by women].

You watch her type them out one by one.

[But every time I came home, my personal belongings had been touched and I often found that the sheets had been changed.]

[And my husband, who hasn't made out with me in the five months since we got married on a blind date].

You are shocked beyond words, and your mute personality makes it hard to know what to say to comfort the other person.

I thought about asking someone I knew for help, but I was afraid that word would get out and I would end up being the laughing stock of others. I didn't meet and marry anyone until I was 30, and everyone thought I had finally found a good home, but only I knew how painful it was. But I couldn't ignore the stares of others, and I was afraid to follow my heart. Thank you for your willingness to help me and for giving me the courage to pursue the truth.

Even without your response, this woman typed out a string of text.

At this point you realise that she is not confiding in you, but simply looking for someone to vent her frustrations to.

So you just watched quietly, without comforting her with any words.

[Don't worry, you are willing to help me, and I won't implicate you. Once I know the truth, I will secretly install a camera at home for evidence afterwards, and I won't take this photo out as evidence. Later on, you can delete my friends and call records together, and you can pretend that I never looked for you, and I will take care of this matter myself.]

"Okay, I hope you make it, go for it!"

You type these words clumsily on your hands and knees.

You are a good man. If things can be resolved satisfactorily, I hope that one day I can add you back as a friend and we can be friends. Bye.]

She came out with the last comment and then deleted you.

You erase all traces of your contact with her, grateful for her thoughtfulness in protecting your privacy, and admiring her strength in making the right decision.

But at the same time, you don't understand why such a self-motivated and independent woman would meet such a thing.

Is it possible that people's words are so fearful that even such a strong woman cannot escape the shackles of the world?

Five months of marriage without intimacy is proof enough of many things, so why rely on this before you dare to lend an outsider a hand to wake yourself up?

After a long sigh, you lament about the relationship you never had, leave the joys and sorrows behind, and continue to drive your delivery truck to deliver the extra 50 deliveries.

As it turns out, the master must not be separated when he distributes the courier to you, east, west, north and south in any direction, and when you have finished delivering it, it is already time to go back to the courier point to pick up the afternoon courier.

You puff and puff back to the delivery point, eat casually at the office, and go back to loading a new delivery.

The no longer consistent rhythm of what you do and the lottery ticket in your arms makes you forget a lot of things, and you don't remember what you've forgotten until you're carrying that bulky bag of cat litter out of the sorting pile!

When you look at the time on the wall clock, you don't even have time to load the rest of the deliveries, so you rush off in your little car towards the neighbourhood where "Qin Rourou" is located.

You hear your master come out after you and shout at you to go back, telling you that you still have quite a few deliveries left to collect, but you simply can't turn back in time and have to shout at your master.

"I'll come back later and pick it up!"

A courier is no more important than the safety of a little girl!

Your delivery cart is limited to forty yards per hour, so you can't go fast enough. You rush through several red lights and almost hit a few pedestrians before you get to that neighborhood as fast as you can.

In your haste, you don't even lock the car, so you run upstairs with the cat litter and start calling the owner of the cat litter called "Qin Rourou".

There is no answer on the phone and you don't hear a phone ringing on the other side of the room.

At this point it is past the time of your previous visits to deliver the cat litter and you are worried that something has happened to the litter girl at home.

After knocking on the door several times and getting no answer, you knock on the door of the girl's next door neighbour, the grandfather, in a panic.

moncler outlet online He opened the door, thinking it was a delivery from his son, and when he heard you say that something might have happened next door, he looked at you in disbelief.

"I don't see anyone suspicious?"

He frowned and asked, "Could it just be that the owner isn't home?"

He is not happy to let you borrow his balcony to go to someone else's house and thinks you are suspicious and warns that he will call the police if you don't leave.

You are so anxious and feel that you can't talk about this matter, so you squeeze right past him and run towards the house.

You came to the old grandfather's house once, aiming straight for his balcony.

The old grandfather is too frightened to follow you there, instead he goes out of his house, closes the door to his house and calls 911.

You hear the door slam shut behind you, but can't think of anything else anymore.

You think if anything happens to that girl, it's all your fault for forgetting this important thing!

Running to the balcony, you climbed up onto the old grandfather's platform, resisted the dizzying sensation of ascent and jumped towards the window of the girl's house across the street.

You managed to leap over.

But in your haste, you land unsteadily, stumble forward and fall straight into someone's balcony.

You don't even care about the pain in your ankle as you limp inside.

For once, the girl's house was not overturned by the thugs and the soft furnishings in goose yellow and soft green created a warm and cosy atmosphere.

Where the living room meets the balcony, there is a pure white wool carpet, which looks particularly warm when the sun shines on it. But you didn't notice when you came in from the balcony and stepped on it, adding two large, dark footprints to the wool rug.

You turn your head and look around, you don't see the bad man and the girl who were subdued last time, you fear that she has been poisoned and you shout the name "Qin Rourou" as you make your way to the only bedroom with a door.

Your movement is so loud that it finally alerts the person in the bedroom, and with a guarded expression on your face, the bedroom door slowly opens ......

Out stepped a woman in a nightgown and dishevelled clothes.

As you look at each other, you are both startled and Qin Rourou, who has obviously just been woken up from a nap, screams out loud.

You are surprised to learn that this time there may not be any air conditioning workers at your door, and that the person who didn't answer your call may have simply been napping and had their phone switched off or silenced.

After figuring out what a mess you've made, you're startled by the screaming and realise as an afterthought that you're trespassing on someone's home.

"I'm not a bad person! I'm the courier who delivers your cat litter!"

Your expression becomes frightened and you try to calm the frightened girl.

"What kind of cat litter do I get?"

The other person stops screaming at your explanation and turns to look at you with suspicious eyes.

"Why do you have to come in through the balcony to deliver cat litter?"

The other person seems bold and quite curious, and you look at him, not knowing how to explain your behaviour.

It's telling the truth about what happened to you and hoping she'll believe it ......

Or are you just voicing your concerns and trying to convince her that it's just a well-intentioned misunderstanding?