As mentioned, even if Qiao Sheng liked something, she wouldn’t feel comfortable dumping all the burden onto Gu Huo without any psychological weight.
She was a practical person by nature. If she liked something and could afford it, she’d buy it. If she couldn’t, she’d endure until she had the money and still wanted it.
In short, she would never allow herself to become a burden to Gu Huo.
When Qiao Sheng saw the price of the Lolita dress, she hissed sharply.
The family was already struggling to make ends meet, yet the original owner had spent over six hundred yuan on a dress she could barely wear a few times!
What a waste!
The platform’s after-sales service was excellent. After the courier picked up the item, the refund was quickly returned to the original payment method.
Six hundred yuan wasn’t much, but it was enough to cover their living expenses for half a month.
The washing machine was tirelessly doing its job, and Qiao Sheng wasn’t idle either. Rolling up her sleeves, she tidied up the house while thinking.
As mentioned earlier, Gu Huo loved cleanliness and couldn’t tolerate messiness.
So, although this rented apartment was simple, everything in sight was neatly arranged in its proper place. The windows were clean and the room was bright, making it very friendly for someone with obsessive-compulsive tendencies.
That is, unless you opened the original owner’s room…
After all, men and women were different. Gu Huo was bound to the original owner out of a sense of responsibility, but he never casually entered her private space.
Who knew how long it had been since the original owner’s room was tidied up? The windows were closed year-round, the curtains drawn, leaving the room dark and gloomy. The air was filled with particles that made one feel suffocated and short of breath.
Qiao Sheng first pulled open the curtains, and the bright afternoon sunlight immediately streamed in, dispelling the heavy atmosphere in the room.
Then she opened the windows, letting fresh air rush in. Under the bright light, the mess in the room was laid bare.
The cotton quilt was a tangled mess inside the duvet cover, haphazardly thrown onto the bed.
The bedsheet was wrinkled, with a few conspicuous stains on the light pink floral pattern. Qiao Sheng recognized them at a glance—they were menstrual blood…
Aside from the accidentally stained menstrual blood, the bed was littered with all sorts of miscellaneous items—clothes, socks, cosmetics, hair… you name it.
The bed was a disaster, and the floor wasn’t much better. It was dusty and felt sticky underfoot.
Qiao Sheng’s temples throbbed.
Her blood pressure was about to spike.
She remembered that during the past two days when the original owner was on a hunger strike, Gu Huo had entered this room quite often. How had he managed not to frown every time he came in?
It must have been tough for him.
Qiao Sheng couldn’t stand it for another moment and started cleaning up.
Opened bags of potato chips—throw away.
Leftover spicy strips from who-knows-when—throw away.
Miscellaneous comic books and beauty magazines—throw away.
Shriveled oranges—throw away.
The pillowcase reeking of scalp oil, the grimy duvet cover, and the bedsheet stained with menstrual blood—Qiao Sheng had already thrown them away, but then she remembered their current financial situation, where they often didn’t know where their next meal would come from. Reluctantly, she picked them up from the floor again.
Sigh, forget it. Although washing someone else’s menstrual blood was quite unpleasant, their financial situation didn’t allow for waste. If she threw them away, wouldn’t she have to spend money to buy new ones?
If she washed them clean, they could still be used.
After all the throwing away, the floor was a mess, making it impossible to walk.
Qiao Sheng spent most of the day cleaning, exhausted to the point of wanting to die, yet she couldn’t stop.
Her obsessive-compulsive tendencies were kicking in.
Could a tiny room really defeat her?
She had to conquer it!
The light outside the window slowly dimmed from its initial brightness.
Unknowingly, the entire afternoon had passed.
Qiao Sheng sat on a small stool, looking at the room she had finally tidied up properly. The suffocating, unsettled feeling in her heart could finally be released with a long sigh.
All the messy, flashy clothes from the original owner’s wardrobe had been sorted out by her. Throwing them away felt wasteful, but selling them as scrap was hardly any different.
After some thought, she realized most of those clothes were almost brand new, some even still had their tags attached. Qiao Sheng decided that when she had time, she would take photos and upload them to a second-hand platform to sell at low prices. Selling even one piece would be better than scrapping them.
Someone knocked on the door—probably the scrap collector she had just contacted.
Opening the door, she saw it was indeed him.
Everything she could throw away was already packed into a woven plastic sack to be sold as scrap.
It was too heavy and bulky, so she dragged the sack toward the door with all her might, as if in a tug-of-war.
She didn’t like bothering others, but before she could ask the scrap collector for help, the middle-aged man couldn’t stand watching any longer and stepped in to assist her.
Qiao Sheng was immensely grateful and was about to thank him when a cool voice interrupted, “What are you doing?”
Turning her head, she saw Gu Huo already stepping over the threshold.
He seemed a bit anxious, having even forgotten to change his shoes—though perhaps there was no need, as the floor was somewhat dirty. Qiao Sheng planned to mop it again after selling the scrap.
Gu Huo quickly glanced at Qiao Sheng before turning a wary gaze toward the scrap collector, making the honest, middle-aged man feel awkward and unsure how to react.
Qiao Sheng hurriedly explained, “I’m selling scrap. This is the uncle I called to collect it.”
Gu Huo was taken aback.
It wasn’t his fault—the original owner had always been wasteful, either stuffing unwanted things in corners to gather dust or simply throwing them away.
The idea of selling scrap had never occurred to her.
In contrast, Gu Huo himself would calmly pick up empty plastic bottles on the street, flatten them, and store them in a bag tucked away somewhere out of the way.
He would also collect cardboard boxes from the original owner’s deliveries and sell them periodically.
The money wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy a couple of steamed buns.
To survive, he had shouldered far more burdens for this household than he should have.
If not for taking care of the original owner, if not for her selfish pursuit of pleasure, he—or rather, they—could have grown up peacefully and steadily, if not wealthy, at least without hardship.
From now on, he wouldn’t have to struggle like this anymore.
Qiao Sheng wouldn’t be a burden to him; she would even share the weight of life’s challenges.
Not only did she not want to follow the original owner’s doomed path of being thrown into the sea as fish food, but her own conscience wouldn’t allow it either.
Seeing Gu Huo silent, Qiao Sheng thought of something and untied the woven sack to show him, “I’m not selling things recklessly. It really is all useless scrap!”
Gu Huo’s gaze shifted from the sack to Qiao Sheng’s face.
He paused slightly.
Perhaps it was his imagination, but after just an afternoon apart, she seemed different from how he remembered her.
The old Qiao Sheng only looked presentable when going out. At home, she was disheveled and unkempt, despite being at a youthful, blossoming age. She often seemed greasy and unappealing, like an unwashed bowl, making people keep their distance.
At this moment, Qiao Sheng, though also with disheveled hair, had a clean and plain face, each strand of hair distinct, faintly carrying a sweet fragrance, the whole person fresh and neat.
Just from taking a bath, the entire demeanor had changed, completely different from before.