Chapter 6

Karen started pestering everyone in the residents' group daily to pay the "nutrition fee," but no one responded to her.

Jenny vented to me: "It's unbelievable that they're not getting rid of this bastard child. Expecting us to help raise the kid, what are this mother and daughter thinking? Have they no shame?"

"If we can't fight her, we can at least avoid her, right? Talk about bad luck. If I hadn't spent all my savings on this apartment, I'd have moved out already."

Only a few households in this building were renters, including 402.

For the past month, Karen had been waiting downstairs early every morning, trying to mooch groceries off people coming back from shopping. She'd take fruits, vegetables, and meat.

If anyone refused to give her anything, she'd sit on the ground, grab their legs, and wail, calling passersby to watch the "heartless man" or his family members.

The older residents would argue with her until it came to blows. The young girls, being more timid, couldn't bear the embarrassment of quarreling with her in the busy hallway with onlookers, so they were the ones she swindled the most.

At first, she got whatever she asked for. Later, people wisened up and created a group to help each other, timing their returns to her lunch hour.

Several renting households were forced to move out overnight.

I rarely cook at home, so I secretly rejoiced that she couldn't bother me.

The food delivery app showed that the delivery guy had already taken a photo of my lunch at the building's designated delivery spot.

After searching carefully several times, I couldn't find it.

Before I could call the delivery driver to ask, Karen posted several photos in the residents' group, tagging me.

The sushi I had splurged on to reward myself after finally satisfying a client's demands after several sleepless nights appeared in the photos.

The luxurious sushi was already half-eaten, with the remains mixed with fruit peels and other scraps in the delivery box.

"You have money to order such expensive food, but you don't know to pay the nutrition fee voluntarily?"

"Don't think I don't know what you do for a living. I hardly ever see you leave your apartment, you don't go to work, yet you spend money so lavishly. You must be kept by some man, probably that old guy who visited your place last time."

"Since you earn money just by lying down, you should pay three shares of the nutrition fee, and you'll also be responsible for my daughter's lunch from now on."

Karen continued to condescendingly "instruct" me in the group chat, warning me to be careful not to let the original wife find out and scratch my face.

I responded with a string of angry poop emojis.

I was about to continue, but Jenny from 501 sent me a message: "I advise you not to confront her head-on. Just endure it, at most be more careful when ordering takeout in the future. Don't tell me you don't know about what happened to Mrs. Thompson on the twelfth floor?"