The Liu family upstairs poured filthy water onto our balcony for a full half year—foot-washing water, leftover rice soup, rotten vegetable leaves, pouring whatever was disgusting. I went over to reason eight times, police reports accumulated into a thick stack, yet the other side put their hands on their hips and declared, "My son is about to take the pilot exam, dare you make a big fuss and try!" When my seven-year-old daughter was drenched in the dirty water, looking up to ask me if we did something wrong, I no longer endured. In half year recording 18 recordings, saving every piece of evidence. Their family's good news announcement is posted on the door, their son's political screening is imminent, I picked up the document bag, leading my daughter into the recruitment office—a child's future has never been a talisman for bullying people.