(September 21) countdown to the 100th day

In September, City C has not shown any signs of cooling.

At about 10 o'clock in the evening, a heat wave hovered over the city, and the street lamps on both sides of the street were depressed by a black curtain, and they were weak to spit gray light, indicating that a heavy rain was coming.

Yao Xiaofei drove an Audi Q7 to the north of the city.

She is a co-investor in a private plastic surgery hospital and the youngest surgeon in this hospital.

The rain is getting heavier and heavier.

She looked at the dashboard and quickly calculated the time it would take to get home, and if she increased the speed to 180 mph, it would only take 15 minutes. No more, no less, 15 minutes later, she drove the car into the underground parking lot of the Yuebanwan apartment in the Chengbei New District on time.

Humming a little tune, she took the elevator up to the 8th floor of Building 15, opened and closed the door, threw her bag and kicked her shoes all in one go – and only by returning to the cosy comfort of the two-bedroom apartment could she completely relax and return to what a 27-year-old unmarried woman should be.

She was about to touch her hand to the door to open and close, she had a whim, simply didn't turn on the light, stripped herself of herself, and with the help of the faint dim light outside the window, proudly examined her proud figure, held her head high, and let her bumpy body break through the shackles of the uniform, and bloom proudly.

"You're thinking too much." Remembering that walking on the street would always provoke a pair of hot eyes, she snorted half-jokingly and grimaced in the dark.

She turned on the air conditioner in the living room, walked into the bathroom, and came to the living room wrapped in a bath towel after a while.

The air conditioner had worked, and she took out a glass of ice cream and leaned back on the couch, just about to enjoy the cosy coolness, when she patted her head and remembered that she had forgotten to close the balcony window.

The 4-square-metre balcony is occupied by a chaise longue. A white wrought iron flower stand was placed by the window, which was divided into two layers, full of flower pots. It's September, and chrysanthemums, orchids, and moons are in full bloom. Before going to work every day, it has become her prescribed action to open the window and ventilate the flowers and plants that do not like light in the window. On weekends, she sleeps a little, but she will definitely soak in a cup of chrysanthemums or snow in the blue pool before the morning sun shines over the fence and sunbathes on the lounger.

The balcony faces the atrium of the complex. The atrium is enclosed in a rectangle by six apartment buildings in four orientations, southeast and northwest, and is slightly smaller than a standard football field. In the middle of the atrium is an irregular swimming pool that has been created to accommodate multiple green paths. In the summer, the pool is overcrowded, from 1 p.m. to 8:30 p.m.

She went to the balcony, and the heat outside the window greeted her with a salty smell. She hurriedly pulled the window over, leaving only half a crack.

The lights weren't turned on yet, and she was still wrapped in a bath towel, sniffing the flowers contentedly through the slit, digging into the ice cream while looking out the window, consciously or unconsciously.

The pool has long since fallen silent, and the light of the street lamps hits the water, evaporating a layer of mist under the high air pressure.

Across the atrium, directly opposite the balcony, is the 11th apartment building, with a few windows still shining through, and it looks like I want to cry.

She aimlessly swept to the waking windows of the apartment building opposite, and fixed her eyes on the windows on the seventh or sixth floor. Through the window, two figures could be seen, to be precise, two men. I can't hear a sound, but I can see one of them gesturing to something. From her vision of being one or two floors above the other, one of them was standing and the other was sitting or crouching.

Maybe it's two people discussing something while drinking. She was about to look away, when the person who was squatting or sitting suddenly stood up, a finger pointing at the person opposite. The man on the other side took a step closer to the man who had just stood up, and also kept pointing his finger at the person opposite.

It seems that two men are arguing? She smiled knowingly, intending to close the last crack in the window—she wasn't interested in watching a late-night "pantomime" performed by two men.

Just as she was about to close the curtains, she saw that the person who had just stood up suddenly squatted down, and suddenly stood up again, as if there was something more in his hand, and it flashed brightly. Immediately after, the man pounced on the person on the other side along with the things in his hand. With a faint exclamation, the two disappeared from her sight.

The change came so suddenly, she was so startled that she stood in place like a stake.

A bolt of lightning pierced the night sky at the right time, and the entire atrium area of the community instantly brightened up as day. Wrapped in a white bath towel, she wore a head of hair that had not been completely dried, standing by the window, one hand grasping the curtain motionless, and her white jade skin was frighteningly white under the strong light.

At the moment when the lightning suddenly struck, another figure appeared by the window. The owner of the shadow seemed to be attracted by something outside the window, and with a surprised expression, he paused before quickly closing the curtains. Immediately, the opposite light also went out.

After only two or three seconds, a thunderclap followed, and the expected rainstorm came, and the violent raindrops crossed the roof of the protective fence and smashed heavily on the window panes of the balcony, like evil ghosts who would not give up.

As the proverb goes, thunder wheat heaps in March, and thunder grave heaps in September.

With a thought, she quickly closed the curtains.

——

Author's Note:

It's not easy to write, but it's encouraged. Collecting, collecting, commenting, transferring, and sending a wave.