Sew clothes during the day and sew corpses at night

I sell clothes in a wholesale market... Last month, I rented an apartment at an incredibly low price — just a one-month deposit and three months’ rent upfront, complete with a full set of stylish appliances. Even though it’s a shared apartment, my flatmate is a stunning girl. Her name is Gu Xiaoshuang. She’s refined, with porcelain skin that stands out. Every morning before dawn, she’s already out the door, and she only comes back after dark. I have a habit of cooking at home, and whenever I see her return, I warmly invite her to join me for a meal. But she always declines, only complimenting my cooking skills. Then she’ll take a deep breath, savoring the aroma in big, audible sniffs. She says she doesn’t want to gain weight, and that just inhaling the smell is enough to satisfy her... As time passed, our relationship grew closer. Sometimes, when she gets home from work in the evening, I’ll suggest we take a walk downstairs. I’m hoping to deepen our relationship. She never objects, but every time we enter the elevator, she holds my hand with her slightly chilly fingers. She seems incredibly tense, backing into the corner of the elevator, pressing herself right up against the wall. One time, the elevator was packed, and I stood protectively in front of Xiaoshuang. Even though the elevator was already full, an elderly woman insisted on squeezing in. Once inside, she started complaining in an eerie tone, calling me names and saying I had no respect for my elders, accusing me of not making room for her, even though she was the one forcing her way in. I wanted to snap back at her. Xiaoshuang has a great figure, but she’s a girl — it’s not like I could just push her aside, right? But Xiaoshuang quickly grabbed my arm, and with a tense expression, she shook her head, signaling me to let it go. So I held back, keeping quiet… But just a few days later, I found out that the woman who had berated me in the elevator was hit by a truck at the entrance of our complex. Her head was crushed, blood and brain matter splattered everywhere; it was a horrifying sight. Since that incident, Xiaoshuang and I began taking the stairs whenever we went out together. Sometimes we’d stroll around outside the complex, and occasionally, we’d feed the stray cats by the gate. But the cats never seemed to like Xiaoshuang, always watching her with wary eyes, even growling lowly at her. Once, a tabby almost bit her… But she was always willing to keep me company. Our relationship continued to warm up. I asked her to be my girlfriend. But Xiaoshuang shook her head, turning me down. I asked if it was because my job or education weren’t good enough. She said no, just that I should think it over carefully, then went back to her room. Lately, she’s been leaving an apple for me in the living room every day, like a thoughtful gesture. The apple seems almost magical — I can’t bring myself to eat anything else; all I can think about is the taste of that apple. The apples I buy from the supermarket taste like wax, never quite right. I’m feeling drained and weak, constantly lightheaded. In just a few days, I lost over ten pounds… Today at work, my boss asked why I looked so haggard. Maybe I’d stayed up too late playing games, he joked. I said my sleep was fine, just that I haven’t had much of an appetite… The boss suggested I might be unwell and handed me a thousand yuan, saying: "Chen Xuan, you’re just overworking yourself. Go see a doctor. If you’re sick, get treated; if you’re fine, that’s even better." I admitted that I hadn’t been feeling great and agreed to go. I registered, had my blood drawn, and went through several tests. The doctor eventually told me it was just mild fatigue with a hint of low blood sugar. He prescribed two boxes of digestive aids and sleep aids, advising me to return if I didn’t feel better. It was dark by the time I left the clinic. I planned to ask Xiaoshuang tonight where she bought that apple, so I could pick up more tomorrow. I can’t stop thinking about it — it’s left me weak and disinterested in anything else. When I got off at my stop, a powerful fruity aroma wafted over, filling my nose. It smelled exactly like the apple Xiaoshuang had given me. The fragrance was intense and mouth-watering, drawing me in as I followed the scent. But when I reached its source, I froze. Just off to the side, in a small patch of greenery, were three half-burnt sticks of incense, still emitting thin trails of smoke. Next to them lay a pile of burned paper ash, a bowl of overturned rice, and a strip of white paper — a funeral streamer. The apple scent I’d been smelling was the smoke from those burning incense sticks. I was stunned. Are they even making funeral incense with fruit scents these days? Without thinking, I took a deep breath of the fruity incense smoke. Inhale… It felt so satisfying, filling me with a warm, comforting sensation. I couldn’t resist; I leaned in to take a few more whiffs… But just as I moved in to breathe the scent again, a low, raspy voice whispered behind me: “You little punk. Who told you to breathe in my incense?”