I owe you two meals, okay?

Ming Shuzhen followed Li Feiyuan into the bedroom.

Her mind lingered on the neighbor’s words, leaving a bad taste.

But work came first, so she steeled herself.

“Mr. Li, today we’ll remove small sections of the wall for sampling. Once we have the materials, the report will be quick.”

Li Feiyuan was surprisingly agreeable. “That’s great. With the report, I can go after the contractor.”

Typically, private home inspections were for holding builders or contractors accountable.

But Li Feiyuan’s case didn’t fit.

The wall had been repainted and patched, and the analysis showed issues from this secondary work, not the original construction. Per Li Feiyuan, his mother did the second round, so the contractor wasn’t liable.

If he used the report to demand compensation, it’d be extortion.

Ming Shuzhen knew her job was just testing and reporting—not dealing with disputes or lawsuits.

Still, it felt against her conscience.

She used a trowel to scrape the five marked points, peeling off the surface plaster.

Since joining Red Brick, she’d paid close attention to housing inspection news.

She recalled a case like Li Feiyuan’s: a homeowner redid renovations, caused issues, then demanded compensation from the contractor, who wasn’t at fault.

Detailed reports could pinpoint which construction layer caused problems, but that required higher expertise and cost.

Due to the burden of proof, contractors often hired their own inspectors to clear their name. To avoid hassle, many just paid up quietly.

Reading that news, Ming Shuzhen, new to the industry with little expertise, vowed to be responsible for every house.

The contractor in the story was a business, but the blame often fell on workers, who might get partial compensation but still felt powerless and wronged. Life was hard enough.

Ming Shuzhen hadn’t studied layered construction analysis—too advanced.

But she resolved to ask Meilin and Team One’s Han Shuyu later.

Li Feiyuan got a call and shouted, “Inspector, I’ve got an emergency. Lock up when you leave.”

“What?” Ming Shuzhen paused, watching him grab his coat, amazed at his trust.

“Nothing to steal here anyway,” he said, reading her mind.

His bluntness left her speechless, and he rushed out.

Clearly urgent.

She scanned the bare, messy house—*house of four walls* came to mind.

No worry about theft.

Continuing, she scraped the wall, sensing something off.

The putty, likely Li’s mother’s work, was oddly wet and sticky, leaving powdery residue on her hands, full of air bubbles, mixed with unknown impurities—not typical dampness.

—

An ordinary winter afternoon, Ming Shuzhen, the workhorse, diligently scraped walls at Li Feiyuan’s.

Rural homes lacked central heating, and Li, lazy, hadn’t lit a charcoal stove.

Cold air filled the room; despite closed windows, drafts crept in.

Ming Shuzhen rubbed her hands, lips pale from the chill.

The wall grew harder to scrape.

The front was soft, sticky putty, but deeper, it felt like solid objects were embedded.

First time for this, she dug like an archaeologist, uncovering a bone-shaped object.

“?” Bold or not, she wasn’t scared yet—just curious.

She even thought, *Lucky me, found the anomaly fast.*

But digging further, realization dawned.

The wall held many bones—small, four-legged, cat-sized.

*House cat?* Her heart sank.

The trowel clattered to the floor, startling her.

She yanked her hand from the wall, feeling as if she’d touched something unspeakable, her hands heavy, like coated in sludge.

She’d sampled the second point, dense with cat bones. She didn’t dare touch the other three.

Fragments of conversations flashed through her mind.

The wall, damp, lost plaster; Li’s mother patched and painted it.

The village had many cats, then they vanished.

Li Feiyuan abused cats.

So, maybe… Li buried cats in the wall?

Ming Shuzhen frowned, dismissing it.

If so, he wouldn’t request an inspection or boldly use a report with cat remains to scam the contractor—they’d see through it.

Then… she speculated.

Maybe Li buried the cats in the cement, and his mother, unaware, used it to patch the wall.

No, how could she not notice such large bones?

Or perhaps his mother knew, and with nowhere to dispose of so many cat bones, she hid them in the wall.

Due to moisture, the wall materials expanded and contracted, squeezing the bones, causing creaking.

A worsening process.

Li Feiyuan said he’d lived there six months.

How did his mother endure the noise before that?

She didn’t want to think deeper.

Face grim, she stood frozen before the wall, too shaken to pick up the trowel.

Her hands trembled slightly.

Footsteps approached—high heels clicking on the floor.

In the empty room, the sound was jarring.

Ming Shuzhen swallowed, body rigid, grabbing the trowel and gripping it tightly, eyes fixed nervously on the door.

No woman lived here—unless Li Feiyuan had a cross-dressing fetish, playing some twisted game.

She hated assuming the worst, but the skeletal cat remains darkened her thoughts.

The footsteps neared, clearly heading for the bedroom.

Taking a deep breath, as the door opened, she swung the trowel, hitting the intruder’s shoulder.

“Hiss,” a pained voice.

Ming Shuyan clutched her shoulder, brows furrowed, staring at the trowel-wielding, eyes-closed Ming Shuzhen.

Recognizing the voice, Ming Shuzhen peeked, then her eyes shot open.

“Boss!”

Panicking, she dropped the trowel and rushed to Ming Shuyan, pleading like a scolded puppy. “I’m so sorry, Boss! I thought it was Li Feiyuan QAQ.”

Ming Shuyan’s shoulder throbbed, but her expression softened.

Despite the pain, she said patiently, “It’s fine.”

“Where’s Li Feiyuan?”

“He got a call and left,” Ming Shuzhen said, hands clasped, still guilty. “Told me to keep sampling and lock up.”

Ming Shuyan nodded. “Progress?”

“Uh,” Ming Shuzhen hesitated, pointing to the wall.

Ming Shuyan followed her gaze. The scraped plaster revealed cement with protruding bones.

Her sharp eyes didn’t need a closer look to understand.

“Li Feiyuan buried them?” she asked, then shook her head, dismissing it.

“I think… his mother did,” Ming Shuzhen said quietly, serious.

“Got it,” Ming Shuyan said curtly, leaving Ming Shuzhen unsure what she understood.

“We’re done here,” Ming Shuyan said, looking at her.

“Huh? But these samples aren’t enough, right?” Ming Shuzhen questioned.

“Not scared?”

“A bit, at first. It’s creepy,” Ming Shuzhen admitted. “But I’m a staunch materialist.”

“Heh,” Ming Shuyan chuckled at her earnestness. “Keep sampling then. I’ll stay.”

“Okay, thanks, Boss.”

With someone—her boss, no less—nearby, Ming Shuzhen felt reassured.

She had to take this project seriously and didn’t want a shoddy report letting Li Feiyuan scam the contractor.

At minimum, it should distinguish primary construction from secondary renovation.

Three points left, she summoned courage, picked up the trowel, and scraped again.

Ming Shuyan stood behind, rubbing her sore shoulder.

Finishing, Ming Shuzhen saw her still clutching it, guilt deepening. “Boss, thanks for staying. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“Mm, thought of how to make it up?” Ming Shuyan asked, face blank but tone gentle.

“Make it up…” Ming Shuzhen murmured. “How about I treat you to dinner?”

She flashed puppy eyes, awaiting approval.

“…You remember you owe me coffee and a meal already?” Ming Shuyan said, unmoved.

“I do, I do!” Ming Shuzhen nodded vigorously. “So now I owe you *two* meals?”

*Okay? Okay?*

Ming Shuyan kept her poker face. “Can you stop acting cute?”

“Huh? I wasn’t…”

Before she finished, Ming Shuyan cut in, “Pack up. We’re leaving.”