Psst! We're moving!
On Monday, she drew lots; on Tuesday, she chose the orientation of her apartment; and by 10 a.m. on Wednesday, Cheng Simin had paid a deposit of 3,000 yuan and five months’ rent at the municipal service hall. She finally received the keys to Apartment 1203, Building 6, Phase III of Huanghe Garden.
Huanghe Garden was conveniently located, with its entrance opening onto Yingbin Avenue, not far from the farmers’ market where Cheng Simin’s parents once sold vegetables. However, the once-bustling market had long since vanished during the city’s rapid expansion. By the time Cheng Simin entered high school, the market had been shut down and incorporated into Banshan’s new commercial development plans.
Now, the site of the former market was densely packed with entertainment and leisure venues: KTVs, barbecue joints, card rooms, and foot massage parlors. Every summer night, countless neon signs glimmered under the reflection of beer bubbles.
Cheng Simin’s simple-minded parents never belonged to these flashy industries—their entire skill set revolved around buying low and selling high.
After the market closed, they used their savings to open vegetable shops at the entrances of several residential complexes. But inevitably, these straightforward businesses ended in losses.
The new residents of Banshan had abandoned the habit of visiting markets. Most worked nine-to-five jobs and were unaccustomed to haggling at small vegetable stalls. They preferred shopping at large supermarkets with fixed prices.
Even when some neighborhoods still had vegetable vendors, it was often just a gimmick to attract customers. These shops also doubled as courier pickup points or stocked groceries to complement their offerings.
During Cheng Simin’s senior year of high school, the couple lost everything they had. Cheng Wei was hit hardest and fell into a deep depression, spending his days drinking at home.
Left with no choice, Chen Xiaofen turned her attention to the cheaper urban villages, where old-style markets still existed—better suited for traditional operators like them. After careful consideration, she settled on a small shop called “Guangfeng Bedding and Textiles.” It had a steady range of products and reliable supply chains. Moreover, Chen Xiaofen was skilled at sewing and could offer services like hemming pants and replacing zippers, attracting loyal customers.
Everything about this business seemed promising except for one problem: they had no cash on hand and couldn’t borrow any either.
To open the shop, they needed to pay three years’ rent and a transfer fee—a sum that required selling the family home in the city where they had lived for over a decade.
Of course, Cheng Simin didn’t want her parents to sell the house. A high school student at the peak of adolescence, she already bore an unpleasant nickname at school because her parents sold vegetables. She had eagerly hoped they would stop and find ordinary jobs like most of her classmates’ parents.
But now, they were planning to sell bedsheets, pillowcases, thermal underwear, and cheap clothing. Just imagining it made Cheng Simin dread the even more humiliating nicknames she’d face.
Moreover, the environment in the urban village was terrible. The nearby high schools rarely produced top-tier university students. How could she possibly agree to transfer there? Was her education supposed to be flushed down the drain?
To resist her parents’ decision, Cheng Simin cried for three days and nights. But her voice carried little weight. Cheng Wei and Chen Xiaofen dismissed her protests as childish tantrums. Selling the house and opening the shop were non-negotiable priorities for the family.
As for Cheng Simin threatening to refuse transferring schools, the couple compromised slightly by arranging for her to board at school for a year.
Physical distance bred emotional estrangement. During her senior year, Cheng Simin—who already had no friends—felt incredibly lonely. Whenever conflicts arose with her roommates, she bitterly resented her parents’ decision to sell the house. She longed to return to the home where her height had been marked on the walls every year.
The sparrows that occasionally perched on the small balcony never minded the smell of rotting vegetables clinging to her. The spiders that scurried away from the kitchen cutting board didn’t care if her fingernails were caked with dirt. In that house, she had been the proud little mistress, able to eat, sleep, listen to music, and study in peace.
Her home was the only refuge that never rejected or belittled her—it already understood everything about her.
But now, the room that held her childhood memories had been taken over by strangers. She no longer had a home. Her parents had chosen to be “bosses” over being parents.
Looking back, it was probably from that moment that Cheng Simin’s relationship with her parents began to drift apart, eventually leading to a complete rupture.
The keys jingled in her hand as Cheng Simin walked briskly toward her new “home.”
In the two weeks while waiting for the apartment, she had wandered aimlessly through Banshan.
She spent her days idling in various corners of the city. During the day, she ate cheap meals at hole-in-the-wall eateries, then lingered in malls, supermarkets, libraries, and other indoor spaces to enjoy free air conditioning.
At night, she wasn’t worried about finding a place to stay. Newly opened internet cafés offered half-price promotions at nine yuan per night, and group-buying vouchers for bathhouses cost fifteen yuan for overnight stays with unlimited shampoo usage. Though living like a stray fly wasn’t dignified, Cheng Simin didn’t waste the money saved on lodging. Instead, she used it to send Beibei to a foster family.
She wanted to keep Beibei with her at all times, but it wasn’t possible—Banshan wasn’t a pet-friendly city, and Beibei couldn’t enter indoor public spaces.
Before securing housing, she certainly couldn’t sleep on the streets with her dog—that would make her truly homeless.
Unemployed though she was, and despite returning to her hometown, Cheng Simin still managed to salvage 150,000 yuan after selling her apartment—a portion of which covered her remaining mortgage and most of her down payment.
With money in the bank, she wasn’t worried. Cheng Simin was far from destitute.
After a 15-minute walk, she swiped her card to enter the gated community. Her mood was as clear and cloudless as the blue sky above.
Once inside, she dragged her suitcase toward the central green space.
Huanghe Garden Phase III was a large-scale real estate project with many street-front shops. Aside from the western buildings (6 to 11), which were designated as government-provided affordable housing, there were also various types of commercial housing within the complex.
With so many residents, the green spaces appeared expansive, but due to insufficient landscaping funds, they often looked neglected. Beyond a patch of uneven shrubs, past sun-faded children’s slides and fitness equipment, Cheng Simin discovered the grassy area she had been searching for.
The lawn had been trampled into a sorry state. To mask its bald patches, the property management had sporadically planted rows of irises. By late August, the flowers had long since faded, leaving only clusters of sword-shaped leaves that stretched toward the sun like stubborn ghosts refusing to die out. But Cheng Simin was satisfied with the desolate scene before her. Her eyes sparkled as she imagined Beibei running across the grass. She loved the space and walked a full circle around it before heading toward Building 6.
Building 6 had a layout of four units per elevator, with odd-numbered apartments on the left and even-numbered ones on the right.
After taking the elevator, turning left, and passing Apartment 1201, Cheng Simin unlocked the door to 1203.
The interior condition was much better than she had expected. The previous tenant must have come into some unexpected wealth, as they had left behind items like the sofa and water heater when they moved out.
Back in Jicheng, Cheng Simin’s 1.5-million-yuan apartment hadn’t offered much choice, so how could she be picky about a place with a monthly rent of just 200 yuan? The living area here was twice as large, utilities were residential-grade, and while sharing an elevator among four households might feel cramped, the shared common areas were minimal.
Cheng Simin was absolutely thrilled with her new home. Not only would she not consider moving out early, but she vowed to renew her lease for another five years once the current contract expired in five years—and then again after that, until she turned eighty!
Spinning circles through the living room, twirling ballet-like steps from the kitchen into the bathroom, Cheng Simin stood on tiptoe to test the water pressure from the showerhead, humming cheerfully as if her mouth held a clothes hanger.
Without hesitation, she plugged in the water heater, deciding to take a hot shower before picking up Beibei.
Living as a street wanderer saved money, but at the cost of personal care. Free shampoo couldn’t solve dry skin, and her hair was brittle and tangled. From head to toe, Cheng Simin desperately needed nourishment.
She unpacked bottles and jars from her suitcase and indulged in a thirty-minute shower, using up all the hot water in the tank. Wrapping herself in a dry towel turban, she finally felt revived. After changing into clean clothes, she stepped into the living room.
Her public rental unit was a one-bedroom, one-living-room layout, already spacious for its size. With the bedroom and living room connected north to south, the space felt particularly bright and airy. The combined living room and balcony measured over thirty square meters, offering plenty of room for decoration—though that could wait. For now, she could sleep on the old sofa left by the previous tenant. Her immediate priority was to schedule an internet installation. Lately, without access to free Wi-Fi during the day, her phone data was nearly depleted.
Plopping down onto the worn-out sofa, Cheng Simin compared broadband packages on her phone while entertaining herself by singing I Love Taking Baths.
The standalone 29-yuan broadband plan seemed appealing, as it didn’t require signing up for a separate SIM card. However, the 49-yuan bundled package included a year of Mango TV membership. Unfortunately, this membership couldn’t be used on a TV, and Cheng Simin wasn’t sure if she even wanted to buy one—she usually streamed shows on her tablet while lying down.
Lost in thought, she suddenly felt an itch on her lower back. Paying little attention, she reached behind her with her left hand to scratch. In the next second, her cheerful “lalala” turned into a high-pitched scream: “Ahhhhhh!”
Startled, she leapt off the old sofa, shaking her body frantically. The frightened baby cockroach, equally alarmed, fluttered its wings and flew back onto the sofa, disappearing into the gap between the cushions.
Clutching her mouth, Cheng Simin forced herself to stay calm. Summoning her courage, she lifted her right leg and gingerly used her big toe to lift the cushion she had just been sitting on. Sure enough, more tiny black shadows scurried away in panic.
The sheer number of bugs made her scalp tingle. Letting out another piercing scream, Cheng Simin fled to the kitchen, wailing and hopping on one foot, barely noticing the slipper dangling from her ankle.
Forget about broadband for now—her immediate concern was figuring out how to get rid of this cheap sofa from her home!
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Meanwhile, five kilometers away, at Banshan Garden on Mingsha North Road, the final court-ordered seizure was underway at Shi Ying’s family villa.