Chapter Forty-Three: The Rent Is Due

After the subway was completed, the apartments, private homes, and residential districts nearby, both large and small, suddenly became hot commodities, eagerly sought after by buyers. Real estate developers and agents, driven by greed, flocked to stake their claim. In fact, three years earlier, when Yun City announced the joint construction of a cross-city subway with Rong City, the housing prices began to soar dramatically, especially in the residential areas along Yue'an Road.

Jinlan Community, though an old neighborhood with decades of history, had facilities—both hardware and software—that failed to meet government standards. The soundproofing was woefully inadequate. Frequently, upstairs or next door would host impromptu concerts, and every household was forced to endure a cacophony devoid of artistic merit.

The property manager was a middle-aged woman nearing fifty, sporting a trendy bird’s nest perm, sitting in her modest office of a dozen square meters, cracking melon seeds, playing games, watching TV, and chatting—living life more leisurely than the young.

Yi Hui had returned home several times before his college entrance exam, hoping for a quiet space to study, but even that had become a luxury. The building was filled mostly with migrant workers, their manners varying wildly. Strange noises would erupt late into the night, tormenting Yi Shu beyond endurance.

One day, during a break, she went to the property management office. The manager was napping in a recliner, and upon being disturbed, responded with unfiltered annoyance. Yi Shu beat a hasty retreat.

Over time, she was forced to grow accustomed. Reluctantly accustomed.

“Su Yi Shu, wait a moment!” came a shrill, goose-like voice from behind.

“Good morning, landlady,” Yi Shu greeted with a warm smile. “There’s still half a month left on the rent, isn’t there? Once I get a couple of days off, I’ll bring the money to you myself.”

“I’m not here to collect rent,” the landlady replied with a meaningful, stiff smile. “It’s like this—the lease is up at the end of September, exactly half a year. Our rental contract is about to expire.” She hesitated a moment. “I’m not planning to renew. You’d better start looking for another place.”

“Why?” Yi Shu asked anxiously. “Is it a matter of rent?”

From overhearing conversations among neighbors, she’d learned that rents throughout the neighborhood had suddenly increased.

“It’s not about the rent. I plan to sell the apartment,” the landlady continued. “A couple from Rong City came by a few days ago, offering a very tempting price. Honestly, I’m a single woman, keeping this place is pointless, and renting it out again and again is a hassle.”

Yi Shu remained silent.

The landlady went on, “They wanted to see the place right away, but since your lease isn’t up, I told them to come next month.”

The sudden blow left her reeling. She had struggled to turn this place into a home, and now it would be transferred to someone else. Where was she to go?

“I understand,” Yi Shu uttered, each word as heavy as a thousand pounds.

The landlady’s message was official, not an invitation for negotiation. It allowed no refusal, no protest.

No sooner had one storm passed than another began.

Standing at the entrance of Jinlan Community, she looked around in confusion.

Why did she feel as though the world had abandoned her? Was it an illusion? Yet she felt it so vividly.

She wandered north and south, east and west.

A pack of stray dogs at the crossroads chased one another, tumbling into a nearby flowerbed.

The wind stirred, and the camphor leaves fell in clusters. Some had begun to yellow—autumn must be near.

Standing on the bridge at the end of the commercial district, she gazed at the boats in the distance and looked down at the murky river swirling beneath the bridge. The ceaseless flow of cars and people above.

Yi Shu couldn’t help but recall the stone bridge at the entrance of Xiangtang Village, where one could also gaze at rivers and lakes—but there, it was a tranquil beauty, time slowed, a gentle breeze, clear water, soft humming.

“I think you shouldn’t bother looking for another apartment,” Xu Shixi said, resting his hand on the rusty iron railing, watching boats slip under the bridge’s arch. “I have an empty room. You could move in with me.”

He couldn’t predict her reaction in this moment; quietly, he tilted his head, using the corner of his left eye to observe her.

The day after the landlady informed her the lease wouldn’t be renewed, she contacted Xu Shixi. After all, he worked in real estate—finding a place was child’s play for him.

Before moving to Jinlan Community, she had viewed at least ten rental properties. Without exception, they differed dramatically from the online photos. It wasn’t that the listings were fraudulent; the advertised amenities were all there. Yet the actual experience—functionality, comfort—was sorely lacking: beds, tables, cabinets missing corners or chunks, gloominess, cramped quarters, and a pervasive musty smell that refused to dissipate.

Even when money was tight, she refused to forfeit her most basic pursuit of a decent life.

Yi Shu often thought that once Yi Hui finished his studies and their meager debts were repaid, she’d no longer be mired in the swamp of financial worries.

She stared in a daze at the ripples left by the passing boats, spreading in widening circles.

Should she accept his offer? That night she borrowed a room, the night of storm and wind, the abrupt plunge in temperature. The moment she stepped inside, all the cold, damp, and shivering remained outside.

If she truly moved in with him, besides ecstasy and delight, she could scarcely find words to express her joy and exhilaration.

She wanted to. Perhaps it was the shy reserve of a young woman—such ambiguous words were hard to say.

“So, what rent would you charge?” Yi Shu’s cheeks were flushed, her beauty heightened by the overcast day.

Hearing her question, Shixi immediately understood her feelings. He smiled, his gaze warm and gentle. “My rent is both cheap and expensive.”

Yi Shu looked at him, her eyes full of confusion.

“It’s expensive because my rent is five figures—a month,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “But if the tenant is you, I’d only charge you one yuan.”

Her right ear pressed tightly against his left chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat and unique scent.

She couldn’t resist, lost in him.

The movement of his Adam’s apple as he spoke, the gleaming, porcelain-like teeth when he opened his mouth, the trace of maturity in his stubble.

She fell for him again.

“Why only charge me one yuan?” Yi Shu asked, though she knew the answer.

“Because you are you,” he replied, rubbing her forehead gently with his chin.

“How should I thank you?” She wrapped her arms around his waist, tilting her head up to look at him.

The river calmed, its ripples subsiding.

The wind carried the taste of autumn.

“Thank me with your lifetime,” he whispered.

Xu Shixi stepped back half a pace, holding her shoulders in his hands. Their eyes met.

A few wisps of hair danced across Yi Shu’s face in the wind, the shyness reminiscent of a beauty half hidden behind her pipa.

Time seemed to stand still. In this shared gaze, their images were etched into each other's eyes.

Finally, he kissed her lips.

After a few brief seconds, Yi Shu pushed away his embrace.

It seemed every place they kissed was always just a little off.

Two days before the lease expired, Yi Shu packed her belongings and placed them on the floor in the entryway.

This had only ever been a temporary home.

Xu Shixi drove over after work.

There wasn’t much: a suitcase of clothes, a large bag of odds and ends. As for pots and pans, bottles and jars, Yi Shu gifted them to an elderly woman in her seventies who lived downstairs. With age, her hearing had grown worse, and her speech unclear. Yi Shu had met her a few times when returning late; she would smile in greeting, trembling as she fished out a bunch of keys tied with red string, opening her door just a crack. The dim interior revealed nothing of its arrangement.

“The suitcase is too heavy. Let me carry it,” Xu Shixi said, taking it from her. “You sit over there.”

“I’m not that fragile,” Yi Shu insisted. “I’ve done plenty of hard work since I was young. This weight is nothing to me. Besides, the suitcase has wheels—I can just drag it along.”

Yi Shu refused to believe that a woman had to appear helpless before a man.

Tonight, the moon was bright and silvery, its light piercing the clouds, shining straight into the room. Just like that other night, eyes wide open. But this time, it felt more real.

Here, everywhere was his scent.

Here, everywhere was his presence.

Here… how she wished she could live here forever.