The day dawned under a somber sky, a subtle portent of disquiet.
As the final bell tolled at Municipal High School Number Four, streams of students, liberated from their studies, began to disperse.
Among them, a quartet of two young men and two young women stood out, their camaraderie evident.
"Lindsay," one of the young men inquired, addressing the strikingly beautiful girl beside him, "are your parents returning for Christmas this year?"
"They're preoccupied with affairs abroad," Lindsay replied. "They might not even return for Lunar New Year. They've been away for so long, they've almost forgotten China's traditional holidays."
"Don't worry!" the young man exclaimed. "We'll celebrate Christmas with you! The shops are already adorned with festive decorations. Although a Western holiday, Christmas is becoming increasingly significant here."
The slightly portly young man accompanying them interjected, "Yin Cheng, you mean you want to celebrate with Lindsay, don't you?"
"You... Song Jun! What nonsense are you spouting?" Yin Cheng retorted, flustered.
The other young woman remained silent, her striking figure, remarkably mature for a high school student, drawing attention. Even the loose-fitting school uniform couldn't conceal her ample curves, captivating the gazes of nearby male students.
Yin Cheng turned back to Lindsay. "Speaking of which, your neighbors across the street seem to have moved. You live in a rather secluded area; aren't you lonely?"
"Well, I enjoyed the company of Mr. Zhao and his family," Lindsay responded, pausing to glance at the overcast sky. "Do you think it's going to rain?"
The curvaceous young woman, breaking her silence, remarked, "The forecast predicts overcast skies for the next few days."
"Christmas calls for snow, not gloomy weather," Yin Cheng grumbled.
"I'll be going now," the well-endowed young woman announced, departing in a different direction. The portly young man echoed, "I... I'll be going this way too..."
As they watched the pair depart, Lindsay smiled at Yin Cheng. "Song Jun seems quite smitten with Xiyu. She, however, appears indifferent."
"Well, most boys are fond of Xiyu..." Yin Cheng began, then abruptly corrected himself. "But, Lindsay, I, Tang Yin Cheng, am most certainly not among them!"
"Who you're fond of is hardly my concern," Lindsay teased. "Aren't all you men drawn to the more voluptuous type?"
"I'm... I'm different... I..." His awkwardness escalating, Yin Cheng stammered, his voice barely a whisper, "I prefer..."
By now, they had reached the bus stop.
"Lindsay, let me escort you home!" Yin Cheng blurted. "Your house is so isolated; I'm a bit worried."
"There's no need. Your parents would be concerned if you returned late."
"No, quite the contrary! They'd be delighted if they knew I was escorting you. Did you see today's news? A young woman disappeared last night while walking home alone. She lived not far from you."
This, of course, was Yin Cheng's true motivation.
"In that case... very well," Lindsay conceded.
The bus arrived, and they boarded, finding ample seating. Yin Cheng, captivated by Lindsay's profile, gazed at her with an undisguised tenderness.
"Lindsay," he began, grasping for conversation, "which university are you hoping to attend next year?"
"I haven't decided yet," she admitted. "I'm aware of my academic standing; the top-tier universities are beyond my reach. I'm aiming for a second-tier institution. But as humanities students, the entry requirements will be higher."
Their idle chatter continued for over an hour as the bus meandered into the suburbs.
After disembarking, they walked for a while, the sun beginning its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate fields and scattered houses. The air, noticeably fresher than in the city, carried a hint of tranquility.
With her parents residing abroad, Lindsay lived alone in this suburban house. Remarkably self-sufficient, she managed her life with meticulous organization. The impending challenge of the university entrance exams loomed large. The street, sparsely populated, was lined with detached houses, including Lindsay's own two-story dwelling. She enjoyed a comfortable life, all things considered.
Suddenly, they noticed a light flickering within a nearby house.
"Mr. Zhao's family moved out," Lindsay remarked, approaching the house. "It's been vacant for a while. Has someone moved in?"
"Perhaps," Yin Cheng replied, peering at the house. "Wouldn't that be a good thing?"
Spotting a neighbor walking her dog, Lindsay hurried over. "Mrs. Ma, is someone living in that house now?"
"Ah, it appears so," Mrs. Ma confirmed, pointing. "They seemed to have moved in late last night. I noticed signs of occupancy today. Rather odd that they didn't introduce themselves to the neighbors. There aren't many of us around here."
Lindsay glanced back at the house, a two-story structure mirroring her own, the closest dwelling in this sparsely populated area. The surrounding landscape was dominated by fallow fields, the setting sun painting the horizon in hues of orange and purple.
"New neighbors..." she mused, unaware that this seemingly innocuous observation marked the genesis of a terrifying ordeal.
"I should introduce myself when I have a moment."
Yin Cheng chuckled. "How welcoming of you. In this era, neighbors are often the most familiar strangers. Some live across from each other for decades without ever exchanging a word."
"There aren't many of us here," Lindsay reasoned. "It seems appropriate to extend a greeting. But why move in the dead of night? What's the rush?"
They reached Lindsay's front door.
"Yin Cheng, would you like to come in?"
"No, thank you. I should be heading home."
"Thank you for accompanying me today. I apologize for making you walk such a distance."
"It's no trouble at all. Seeing you safely home puts my mind at ease." Reassured, Yin Cheng bid Lindsay farewell.
As she watched him depart, Lindsay's gaze lingered on the neighboring house before she unlocked her own door and stepped inside.
The horrors that awaited her remained unknown to Lindsay, but Edith possessed a chilling premonition.
In the horror film New Neighbor, the protagonist, Lindsay, was portrayed by Edith. This film, unlike Allen's previous endeavors, promised a far more harrowing experience. The cast, portraying high school students, appeared somewhat incongruous in their roles, though no one seemed to mind. The role of Tang Yin Cheng, naturally, fell to Carol.
"Absolutely no contact with the new neighbor, and do not enter the house unless specifically directed by the script." The directive, underscored in crimson, served as a stark warning against premature exploration during the unscripted periods.
Lindsay returned to the solitude of her spacious home. Self-sufficiency was her forte, managing household chores and cooking with effortless competence. One might assume such domesticity ill-suited an heiress like Edith. However, as the sole heir to a real estate magnate, Edith defied the stereotype of the idle rich, diligently mastering a diverse range of skills. Mundane household tasks posed no challenge, and while culinary expertise wasn't her forte, she navigated the kitchen with surprising adeptness. NGs stemming from domestic incompetence were unlikely.
After rinsing the rice and placing it in the cooker, she gravitated towards the study window, offering a direct view of the neighboring house. The curtains, however, were now drawn, shrouding the interior in an enigmatic veil.
The new neighbor, undoubtedly, held the key to the unfolding narrative. Intelligence gathering would be paramount.
The script's ominous foreshadowing, Yin Cheng's mention of a girl's disappearance the previous night, lingered in her mind.
For now, her primary focus was embodying the role of a high school student. Retrieving her homework planner from her bag, she reviewed the assignments, primarily mock university entrance exams. The script had imbued her with the requisite academic knowledge, though she still perused her textbooks, focusing on classical Chinese literature, geometry, and other relevant subjects. English posed no challenge; her upbringing, punctuated by international travel and an extended sojourn in New York, rendered the domestic curriculum almost laughably simplistic. The emphasis on grammar and reading, neglecting conversational fluency, struck her as particularly absurd.
After two hours of diligent study, integrating the script's implanted knowledge, she commenced a mock mathematics exam. The challenging questions proved no match for Edith's sharp intellect, her grasp of logic far exceeding the average student. Mathematics, the quintessential embodiment of logical reasoning, was often deemed irrelevant to everyday life. However, Edith recognized its value in cultivating critical thinking skills. Compared to the complexities of real-world problems, the certainty of mathematical theorems offered a comforting simplicity. She could easily achieve a high score, but mindful of the script's portrayal of Lindsay's modest academic abilities, she deliberately introduced errors. This meticulous attention to detail, this unwavering adherence to the narrative, was the cornerstone of Edith's flawless performance record.
Drawing back the curtains once more, Edith, now fully immersed in the persona of Lindsay, peered outside. She had refrained from frequent glances during her studies, recognizing that such behavior would be inconsistent with Lindsay's character and potentially incur an NG.
The neighbor's curtains remained drawn, concealing the mysteries within. What secrets lay hidden behind that opaque facade?