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Chapter Four. For the first week after she moved into the lane, Lin Xia hardly slept a full night. Not because of the noise — quite the opposite. It was too quiet. She had grown up beside a railway station, used to a horn and an announcement every twenty minutes, used to falling asleep inside a wall of sound. Now, at two in the morning, she could hear a cat crossing the tiles downstairs and the door of the distant convenience store opening and closing. On the eighth night she gave up, pulled on a coat and went down. The noodle shop at the mouth of the lane still had its light on; the owner was wiping down the last table. "You are open this late?" Lin Xia asked. The woman looked up as if she had known her for years. "Waiting for you. Everyone who moves into this lane comes down at this hour in their first week." She slid a bowl of hot soup noodles across the counter. "Eat, and you will sleep. Trust me." Only later did Lin Xia learn that the bowl had never been charged for, and that every word the woman said had been true.