The very next day after Lin Bei took on the role of square-dance consultant, she encountered her first crisis.

Aunt Li posted a message in the group chat, her tone unusually serious: “Xiao Lin, come down here right away—property management won’t let us dance anymore.”

Lin Bei put down her bubble tea, changed her shoes, and dashed out. Su Chen sat on the sofa, watching her retreating figure, then shook his head and went back to reading.

When she arrived at the square, more than twenty middle-aged women were standing there in neat formation, while across from them stood a young man in a white shirt, holding a folder and looking thoroughly troubled.

“Aunt Li,” the young man said with a worried expression, “it’s not that I’m stopping you—it’s that a property owner has complained. The resident of Building 22 says the music is too loud and is interfering with his child’s homework.”

“We’ve been dancing here for three years and never had a single complaint!” Aunt Li said, hands on her hips. “When did the residents of Building 22 move in?”

“Last month.”

“So the new residents already have objections? Tell them to come down and talk to me!”

The young man wiped the sweat from his brow. “Auntie, I’m just a property-management employee—please don’t make things difficult for me…”

Lin Bei pushed her way through the crowd. “Aunt Li, what’s going on?”

Seeing Lin Bei, Aunt Li felt like she’d found a savior: “Xiao Lin, you tell me—this is our spot! We’ve been dancing here for three years without any trouble. Now that a new resident complains, property management says we can’t dance anymore. Does that make sense?”

Lin Bei thought for a moment, then asked the property-management staff member: “What exactly did the resident of Building 22 complain about? Was it the volume too high, or the timing?”

The staff member flipped through the folder. “They said, ‘The square-dance music is seriously disrupting daily life; we demand that property management stop it immediately.’”

“No specific data?” Lin Bei asked.

“What kind of data?” the staff member replied.

“Decibel levels. Complaints need evidence—you can’t just make empty accusations.” Lin Bei pulled out her phone. “I remember Jiangcheng has regulations: during the day, noise in residential areas can’t exceed 60 decibels. Have you measured it?”

The staff member was taken aback. “No… no, we haven’t.”

“Then go back and tell the resident to measure the decibel level first. If it’s over the limit, then file a complaint.” Lin Bei turned to Aunt Li and said, “Auntie, please try to be understanding and turn the volume down a bit. Only when everyone makes a little compromise can this go on for the long haul.”

Aunt Li thought for a moment, then nodded. “All right, I’ll do as Xiao Lin says. Ladies, turn the sound down to 40 decibels!”

The women sprang into action, and the music started up again—this time noticeably quieter.

Seeing that the issue was resolved, the property-management staff member breathed a sigh of relief and quickly slipped away.

Aunt Li grabbed Lin Bei’s hand and said gratefully, “Xiao Lin, you’re amazing! You handled the property management in just a few words!”

“It wasn’t handling them—it was making sense,” Lin Bei replied. “Auntie, in the future, before you start dancing, measure the decibel level first. There are apps on your phone; if it goes over 60, turn the volume down. That way, no one can really complain.”

“Great, great, great! Whatever you say, we’ll do it!” Aunt Li turned to the other women and shouted, “Ladies, Xiao Lin said—we have to measure the decibel level before we dance from now on!”

The women all nodded, looking at Lin Bei as if she were a hero.

Lin Bei felt a bit embarrassed under all the attention and was just about to leave when she suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“You’re meddling again.”

She turned around and saw Su Chen had come down somehow, holding a glass of water and leaning against a streetlamp by the square.

“How did you get down here?”

“I brought you some water. Your bubble tea’s all gone.”

Lin Bei took the glass, feeling a warm rush in her heart. This guy may complain that she’s always meddling, but he even remembers when her bubble tea runs out.

“Do you think I did something wrong?” she asked.

“Actually, you did everything right,” Su Chen said. “But aren’t you tired? Today you help the ladies, tomorrow you help the property management, and the day after that—who will you help?”

“How can helping people be tiring?” Lin Bei asked.

“Helping people can be tiring—especially when you’re helping people who have nothing to do with you.”

Lin Bei thought for a moment. “Su Chen, have you ever noticed that you’re great at everything except being warm-hearted?”

Su Chen gave her a look. “Warm-hearted?”

“Yeah. You never get involved in things that don’t concern you, and you never care about people who aren’t close to you.”

“That’s because I don’t like getting into trouble,” Su Chen said.

“But don’t you think relationships between people start with ‘trouble’?” Lin Bei countered.

Su Chen didn’t answer.

Lin Bei continued, “When I cook for you, that’s trouble. When you film videos for me, that’s trouble too. But these little troubles are what turn us from landlord and tenant into…”

She paused, not finishing the sentence.

“Into what?” Su Chen asked.

“Friends,” Lin Bei said, though she knew the word sounded too light—but she couldn’t think of anything better.

End of Chapter 22: The Consultant Steps In