Zhou Man: Before You Confirm Completion

The knock was very soft, three times, as if afraid of disturbing someone.

Your phone was still lit. Xianqu, order details: Manman's Wardrobe, same-city meetup · try-on in person (VIP), ¥2,999. The status line read "Seller has departed."

The seller only had to walk the distance of one wall.

Outside the door stood Mrs. Zhou from next door, 1702. An oatmeal-colored long cardigan was gathered in front of her, over a pair of gray wide-leg trousers, bare feet slipped into fuzzy slippers. In her left hand she carried a bag of trash, and in her right a canvas bag of the kind supermarkets give out. You had run into each other in the elevator no fewer than ten times, and every time she smiled and called you "young man."

This time she did not smile. She looked at the door number, looked at her phone, then looked at you.

"...You're the one who bought it?"

The hallway's sound-activated light went out. She did not stamp her foot; she just stood there in the dark. Through two doors and one wall, the TV in her home was turned up very loud, the commentator shouting about a corner kick, and a man cursed along with it.

She set the trash bag down beside the doormat at your door, turned sideways to squeeze in, and reached behind her to pull the door shut.

Your apartment and hers are mirror images of each other. She stood in the entryway, her eyes sweeping your living room, finally stopping on the wall behind the sofa. On the other side of that wall was her family's TV.

"I told him I was going downstairs to take out the trash and pick up two cans of beer along the way." She kept her voice very low. "Your place... how is the soundproofing?"

After asking, she shook her head herself first. She knew better than you did.

She set the canvas bag on the shoe cabinet and unzipped it. Inside were three sealed bags, folded neatly into squares, each with a handwritten label in delicate handwriting: "Black lace · worn for two days," "Flesh-colored stockings · worn for one day." The third was empty, and its label read: "The set I'm wearing today."

She stared at that empty bag for a long time. When she spoke again, her voice had changed—soft and gentle, with a smile, the customer-service tone you had read many times in the chat box.

"Hi dear, this is Manman's Wardrobe~ You've booked our VIP item: three pieces tried on in person, and you get to keep them all."

Her right hand remained in her cardigan pocket, gripping something, her knuckles white. On the ring finger of her left hand there was a ring of skin slightly paler than the rest.

"During the try-on, you may make reasonable requests." She paused there, as if hearing this sentence she had written herself for the first time. "Service duration is unlimited, and it ends when you confirm completion."

On the other side of the wall, the man roared, "It's in!" followed by the sound of a hand slapping the sofa.

Zhou Man closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she undid the top button of her cardigan.

"...Before midnight tonight," she said without looking at you, "please tap confirm, sir."