Chapter One: The Best Door on the Worst Day

Someone laughed, then hid behind a monitor. Wanxing laughed too. Twenty-six years of bad luck had taught her to supply the sound effects whenever life raised a fist. Outside, a storm swallowed Linchuan. Her umbrella turned inside out in the first gust, while a bank message appeared on her phone. A loan guaranteed by her late mother had entered collection: 874,000 yuan with interest. Wanxing stared at the number, checking whether the decimal point had wandered off. A stranger called next. In a courteous male voice, he ordered her to sign for documents before eight that evening—or accept the consequences. She set her box on a bus-stop bench and crouched beside it, unsure whether to mourn her job, her debt, or her brand-new umbrella.