The Strand of Hair
Last week, through an agent, I rented the place to a girl named Connie Scott.
The agent said she graduated from a prestigious university and had just recently finished school, so she seemed pretty reliable.
On the day we signed the contract, Connie Scott wore a neat white shirt and black-framed glasses. She spoke clearly and logically, and I liked my first impression of her.
We agreed that she would officially move in on Monday, so I went to the apartment a day early to do the final cleaning.
The floors were polished to a shine, the windows cleaned clear enough to see reflections, and I disinfected the kitchen and bathroom—I thought everything was perfect.
On Monday morning, Connie messaged me saying she had arrived at the apartment.
I was busy with company matters and didn't think much, so I just replied that she could let me know if there were any issues.
Less than half an hour later, her messages started coming in one after another.
The first was a photo, clearly showing a single thin hair in the corner of the wall.
Right after, she messaged: "Stella, there's a hair in the corner, which doesn't meet hygiene standards. You need to send someone over to clean it thoroughly."
I frowned. It was just one hair; couldn't she just pick it up herself?
Still, I patiently replied, "Maybe I missed it when cleaning. Please bear with it for now; I'll have housekeeping come by this afternoon."
Right after sending that, she sent another screenshot from her phone, showing the TDS water quality test results.
"Stella, the TDS level at the tap is too high. Drinking water like this over time isn't good for my health. You have to install a water purifier."
I stared at the screen, and anger instantly boiled inside me.
The rental contract never said anything about providing a water purifier, and no previous tenants ever complained about the water quality.
I replied to her: "Connie, the rental contract clearly states that basic living facilities are provided, but a water purifier is not included. If you think the water quality is bad, you should buy one yourself."
She quickly replied, her tone firm, "This is a safety hazard in the apartment, not just my personal preference. As the landlord, you're responsible for fixing it."
We argued about it; she refused to back down and insisted it had to be fixed today.
I still had a ton of work to handle and didn't have the energy to argue, so I finally blurted out, "If you're this picky, then don't rent this place."
She immediately fired back, "If you break the contract, you'll have to pay me double the deposit plus compensation for lost work."
Her unreasonable nonsense gave me a headache, so I just blocked her number—out of sight, out of mind.
I thought this matter would just blow over; at worst, I'd go through legal procedures to terminate the contract later.
But unexpectedly, three days later, I received a package.
When I opened it, inside was a "House Environmental Safety Hazard Report," detailing all sorts of so-called "hidden dangers" in the apartment. Besides the single hair and water quality issues, it listed minor cracks in the walls, slight wear on the floors, and more.
At the end of the report was also a legal letter, claiming I had neglected my responsibilities as a landlord and demanding I fix everything by a deadline; otherwise, they would file a lawsuit.
I held the package, stunned for a long time. I never expected a freshly graduated girl to be this meticulous, and to even hire a lawyer right away.
After receiving the legal letter, I calmed down and thought it over. Dragging it out wouldn't solve anything, so I had to talk to Connie Scott face to face.
I contacted her through the agent and arranged to meet on Saturday afternoon at a cafe near the neighborhood.
On Saturday afternoon, I arrived at the cafe ten minutes early and took a seat by the window.
Not long after, Connie arrived, still wearing the white shirt and carrying a briefcase. She looked even more serious than the last time we met.
After she sat down, without waiting for me to say anything, she pulled out a stack of documents from her briefcase and placed them on the table.
"Stella, let's not beat around the bush. I'm here today to talk about finding a solution."
I took a sip of my coffee and motioned for her to continue.
"First, you need to refund my full deposit and the three months' rent I've already paid."
"Second, you must compensate me for mental distress. The poor condition of the apartment has hurt my sleep and affected my work. I'm asking for five thousand dollars as compensation for now."
I put down my coffee cup and couldn't help but interrupt: "Connie, aren't you going a bit too far with these demands?"
"All this over a single hair and some supposed water quality issues, and you want me to refund you and pay compensation?"
She pushed up her glasses, her tone calm: "Stella, this isn't excessive; it's a reasonable request."
"I graduated from Q University School of Law, so I'm very clear about the relevant legal clauses. All my demands have legal grounds."
Hearing Q University School of Law, my heart skipped a beat. No wonder she knows the law so well and even dared to send a legal letter directly.
But I still didn't agree with her demands, so I stood my ground and argued back.
After arguing for a while, seeing I wouldn't back down, she suddenly changed her tone: "Actually, there's another solution. If you agree to it, I can reduce my previous compensation demands."
I looked at her in disbelief, wondering what else she had up her sleeve.
"My parents are planning to move to this city soon and want to buy a retirement home, but their renovation budget isn't enough."
I got a bad feeling as I waited for her to go on.
"You pay to renovate the place to retirement home standards—it should cost around a hundred thousand or so."
"If that's done, I won't bring up the earlier issues anymore, and I'll pay the rent on time."
I was completely stunned after hearing this. It turned out all her previous complaints weren't really about the living conditions, but just a way to get me to pay for her parents' retirement home renovation.
I forced down my anger, stood up, and said, "Connie, I can't agree to this demand. Let's just settle this through legal procedures."
After saying that, I turned and left the cafe, leaving Connie Scott sitting there alone.
After coming back from the cafe, I waited for Connie Scott to file a lawsuit, but to my surprise, she didn't go the legal route. Instead, she started stirring up public opinion.
On Monday morning, as soon as I arrived at the company, I received messages from neighbors in the landlord group chat.
The neighbors said Connie Scott had posted the "Apartment Environmental Safety Hazard Report" in the group chat and had exaggerated, claiming I, the landlord, was irresponsible and that the apartment had many safety hazards, putting the tenant at risk.
I quickly opened the landlord group chat, and it was already blowing up.
Some neighbors were asking me if the situation was true, others were worried about the housing quality in the community, and someone from Property Management even tagged me in the group, asking me to come to their office to explain.
Looking at the messages in the group, I felt both anger and helplessness. Connie Scott's move was really low—she was using the neighbors' concerns to put pressure on me.
I briefly explained the situation in the group, saying Connie's report was exaggerated and that I would handle it as soon as possible, but the doubts from the group didn't stop.
It didn't take long before Connie Scott called me, this time from an unknown number, probably because she knew I had blocked her previous one.
"Stella, you must have seen what's been going on in the landlord group chat, right?" There was a trace of smugness in her voice.
"Connie, what's the point of this? If there's a problem, we can talk it out properly. There's no need to make a scene in the group chat." I tried to keep my voice calm.
"I have no choice—you're refusing to cooperate." She paused, then went on.
"I've already contacted several local media outlets; they're very interested in stories about landlords exploiting tenants."
"If you still don't meet my demands, I'll take this to the media. Not only will your personal reputation be damaged, but your company's reputation will suffer as well."
A chill ran through me—she had even looked into my company. Seems she was prepared all along.
My company is involved in technology research and development and values its reputation greatly. If negative news is reported by the media, the consequences would be disastrous.
After hanging up, I sat in my office and calmly worked out a strategy.
A head-on confrontation won't work. She knows the law and can manipulate public opinion. If I go up against her directly, I might end up taking a big hit.
I need to come up with a solid plan that resolves this issue and protects the company's reputation.
I asked my assistant to look into Connie Scott's background, including her education, work history, and family situation, hoping to find a lead.
My assistant was really efficient and gave me Connie Scott's detailed info the next day.
The more I read, the more surprised I became, and eventually, I even laughed out loud.
The file showed that after graduating, Connie Scott applied to our company's "Starlight New Generation" recruitment program, passed both the written test and interview, and was already a prospective employee set to start officially in a month.
The "Starlight New Generation" program is our company's effort to attract outstanding talent, mainly recruiting graduates from prestigious universities and offering generous salaries and benefits.
I never expected Connie Scott to be a future employee of our company—what a coincidence.
Before, I only knew she graduated from Q University School of Law and didn't give her job prospects much thought. But now, this looks like a perfect bargaining chip.
With the information in hand, I got an idea.
She wanted to threaten me with public opinion and the law? Then I'll use her career prospects as my counterattack.
If she knew whether she could get hired and that the decision was up to me, I wonder if she'd still be so arrogant.
I had my colleagues in Human Resources pull up Connie Scott's onboarding documents and confirmed she's indeed a prospective employee. The process was at the final step—just signing the official contract left.
I placed Connie Scott's onboarding contract on my desk, thinking through my next move.
Now's not the time to lay my cards on the table. I need to wait for the right moment and let her back down on her own.
I first posted a detailed explanation in the landlord group chat, attaching the property's inspection report to prove there were no safety hazards. I also explained that the conflict with Connie came from differences in rental needs, not because I was irresponsible.
At the same time, I also contacted property management to help clear things up in the group chat, to prevent any misunderstandings among the neighbors.
After some effort, the public opinion in the landlord group chat gradually calmed down, and the neighbors stopped doubting me.
Connie must be getting anxious seeing the situation in the chat. I'm waiting for her to reach out to me again.
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