The summer nights in Jiangcheng are as hot and muggy as an airtight steamer. The corridors of the old community are filled with a damp musty smell and the smell of oil smoke from the restaurant next door, mixing into a pungent smell.
Lin Chen opened his eyes suddenly, his head felt like he had been hit by a heavy hammer. The pain was unbearable. The scene in front of him was blurry and unfamiliar - mottled walls, peeling wooden doors, an old lamp on the table, and a reminder note next to it. The name "Lin Chen" on it was not the one he was familiar with.
