Yang Zhiyan froze. She hadn’t expected her mother to give in so easily.
Sure enough, her mother continued.
“But you’ll have to pay me support.”
Leaning against the shoe cabinet, Yang Zhiyan felt the chill of the wooden panel seep through the thin fabric of her shirt and press against her back.
“Mom, people in their fifties are still in the prime of their working years,” Yang Zhiyan said. If you want to earn property for your precious son, do it yourself. Don’t drag me into it.
“Keep working hard and try to buy my brother another apartment. When you’re old—seventy or eighty—I will fulfill my legal obligation to support you.”
With that, she pushed herself away from the cabinet and gripped the handle of her suitcase. It sprang up with a crisp click.
“Yanyan…” her mother’s voice chased after her.
Yang Zhiyan didn’t look back.
She opened the door. The suitcase wheels rolled over the threshold with a dull thud.
The sound activated the motion-sensor light in the hallway. It flicked on with a snap, bathing her face in harsh white light that clearly revealed the bluish shadows beneath her eyes.
The door closed behind her.
After she had taken three steps, the hallway light went out again. Darkness rushed in from every direction, but Yang Zhiyan didn’t stop.
The suitcase wheels rumbled over the concrete floor, the sound echoing through the empty corridor like a heartbeat—steady, strong, alive.
She pressed the elevator button.
While waiting, she glanced down at her phone.
There were two unread messages.
One was from Teacher Mu:
“Have you rented the apartment? Let me know once you have. I’ll come help you move in tomorrow.”
The other was from Jiang Siya:
“So you really moved out? Seriously? I’m coming over to celebrate your housewarming!”
She replied to Teacher Mu first:
“I’ve rented it. I’m moving in tomorrow. You don’t have to come, Teacher. I can manage by myself.”
Then she replied to Jiang Siya:
“Okay. Let’s have dinner tomorrow.”
The elevator arrived.
She wheeled her suitcase inside and pressed the button for the first floor.
As the elevator doors closed, she looked up at her reflection in the mirror.
The woman staring back at her looked a little pale, her lips lacking color.
But her eyes were bright.
Bright with relief.
Stepping outside the building, the night breeze greeted her.
Late May in Haicheng was no longer cool at night. The wind was warm and gentle, carrying the scent of roadside holly leaves mixed with the smoky aroma drifting over from distant barbecue stalls.
Standing downstairs, Yang Zhiyan looked up at the window she’d lived behind for more than a year.
A faint light still glowed behind the curtains.
Perhaps the living room floor lamp had been left on.
Or perhaps her mother was standing at the window, watching her leave.
She didn’t bother to find out.
Lowering her head, she opened her ride-hailing app and entered her destination:
Prosperity Tianxi Residence.
Estimated fare: 83 yuan.
She glanced at the price before tapping Confirm.
In the past, she would have hated spending those eighty-three yuan. She would have chosen the bus and subway instead, spending an extra hour and a half just to save the money.
But not today.
Today, she wanted to reach the place that belonged to her as quickly as possible.
Five minutes later, her ride arrived.
It was a white Nissan Sylphy. The driver, a man in his forties, got out and efficiently loaded her suitcase into the trunk.
Yang Zhiyan climbed into the back seat, confirmed the last four digits of her phone number, and as the car drove out of the residential complex…
She never looked back.
Outside the window, the city streets slipped away behind her.
She was driving toward the life she’d always wanted.
The entrance to Prosperity Tianxi Residence looked even grander beneath the night sky.
The intricate wrought-iron floral patterns on the gates stood out under the lights. Warm yellow wall lamps illuminated the decorative stone at the entrance, where four bold calligraphic characters had been carved in flowing script.
Yang Zhiyan got out, retrieved her suitcase, and wheeled it into the complex.
She swiped her access card.
The corridor on the twenty-second floor was silent.
The motion-sensor lights turned on the moment she stepped out of the elevator, flooding the hallway with bright white light.
There were only two apartments on the floor.
Hers was on the left.
The one on the right remained closed.
She rummaged through her bag for the key, inserted it into the lock, and turned it twice.
The door opened.
The apartment was pitch-black inside, carrying the distinctive scent of a brand-new home—a blend of hardwood flooring and fresh paint. It wasn’t unpleasant.
Instead, it felt… reassuring.
She reached along the wall until her fingers found the light switch.
Click.
The living room lights came on.
As warm light poured into the room, Yang Zhiyan stood in the entryway, taking in the spacious apartment before her.
The gray-and-white fabric sofa.
The natural wood coffee table.
The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Riverside Park.
The faint lights of boats drifting across the river in the distance.
Suddenly…
She wanted to cry.
Not from sadness.
From happiness.
Being alone.
Feeling light in both body and soul.
She wheeled her suitcase inside, shut the door behind her, and changed into slippers.
This is wonderful.
After standing there quietly for a while, she walked back inside and closed the balcony door.
She still hadn’t unpacked.
The suitcase lay open on the bedroom floor, revealing neatly folded clothes inside.
She took them out one by one and hung them in the wardrobe.
The wardrobe was enormous—a three-door unit.
She only filled the section on the far left.
The other two compartments remained empty.
The hangers swayed gently on the metal rod, producing soft metallic chimes.
When she’d finished, she carried her toiletries into the bathroom and arranged them neatly on the sink.
A bottle of facial cleanser.
A tube of toothpaste.
A toothbrush.
A hairbrush.
“You did it,” she whispered.
Silently, she praised herself.
Yang Zhiyan…
You’re amazing.
Things are only going to get better from here.
At the same time…
Downstairs.
A low-profile black Hongqi sedan drove into the underground parking garage of Prosperity Tianxi Residence.
Its headlights flashed twice at the entrance.
The license plate recognition system beeped, and the barrier slowly lifted.
Qin Yuzheng sat in the back seat with his eyes closed.
He had been drinking tonight.
Not much.
But the alcohol had a lingering kick.
A strange restlessness burned its way up from his stomach, as though something inside him was smoldering.
He loosened his tie, tugged it downward, then unfastened the top button of his dress shirt, revealing part of his collarbone.
His Adam’s apple bobbed beneath his skin.
“Secretary Qin, we’ve arrived at Prosperity Tianxi Residence,” the driver said, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.
Qin Yuzheng opened his eyes.
There were faint bloodshot veins in them—not many, but striking against the whites of his eyes.
“Hm.”
The driver opened the door.
His long legs stepped out first.
Qin Yuzheng normally didn’t stay here.
He was used to living in his villa at Bishui Bay.
It was quiet.
Private.
He had personally planted the osmanthus tree in the courtyard, and every autumn the entire yard filled with its sweet fragrance.
But tonight he wasn’t feeling well.
He didn’t want to travel that far, so he had the driver bring him to Prosperity Tianxi Residence instead.
The elevator rose from Basement Level One.
Qin Yuzheng leaned against the elevator wall.
One hand rested in his trouser pocket.
The other pinched the bridge of his nose.
The skin on his forehead had turned red from the pressure, but he didn’t stop.
The motion helped him stay awake.
The elevator stopped on the twenty-second floor.
The hallway lights flicked on, dazzlingly bright.
Qin Yuzheng stepped out and pressed his finger against the fingerprint scanner.
I really do feel a little drunk tonight…
Even though he hadn’t drunk much, the sensation in his fingertips seemed oddly dulled.
Then…
It seemed to him that the apartment next door was slightly open.
The door stood ajar, warm yellow light spilling through the narrow gap.
And then…
He saw the person he’d been longing for day and night.
She was just inside the doorway.
No…
She wasn’t walking out.
She had her back to the entrance, bending over in the foyer as she set something down.
Her long black hair flowed freely over her shoulders, the slightly curled ends resting near her shoulder blades.
She wore a light blue shirt with a pair of jeans.
The hem of the shirt concealed her waist, making its shape hard to see, but she looked so slender.
Her shoulders were narrow.
Her waist…
Surely just as slim.