On the night when three months' rent was in arrears, Yu Jiang and his three roommates were forced to move at midnight, but they bumped into an unmarked white van. The mover in a raincoat didn't say a word, but the word "7" was printed in green and black on his wrist. The brass key Yang Xiaoqing pulled out of the drawer matched perfectly with the door of Room 701 in Yu Jiang's dream - there was no seventh floor in this building at all.
A three-year-old newspaper in the security booth printed a photo of the four of them with the title "Tenant disappeared mysteriously"; on the stone bench in the community garden, the key that was supposed to be left in Room 404 appeared out of thin air; the police car they bumped into during the escape had "Public Security" written on it instead of "Tenant Clearance".
When the door of Room 701 slowly opened in front of him, and "residents" who were exactly like them were sitting inside, chewing glass shards and laughing about the rent, Yu Jiang realized: the so-called moving was just moving from the prison of Room 404 to the eternal night in Room 701.
Every escape is the beginning of repetition, and every key is tied with a reminder. They must find the truth before they become "permanent residents" - how many "scapegoats" who failed to pay rent were hidden in the fire that killed seven people in 1998?
And that moving company that always shows up at midnight never moves luggage.
