Chapter 32: Can’t We Move House?
The very first part-time job of their lives left a deep impression on every student in Class 9 of Grade 11.
When Mu Xiangxiang arrived at school the next day, she found the once-noisy classroom much quieter. A few of the better-performing students in the front rows were actually doing morning self-study like the students in the regular classes nearby.
A large section of the “underachiever corner” at the back by the window sat empty. Including Yan Zhiyang, seven boys from Class 9 were gone. Some had directly participated in the dropout incident, while others had always wanted to quit school but never dared say it aloud before—this time, they’d all gone through with it together.
Those guys had always been the most flamboyant in class, so among the rebellious underachievers of Class 9, they carried considerable influence. Their absence quickly became the hottest topic among the students.
After sitting down, Mu Xiangxiang overheard a girl nearby say, “Guo Zhi said they’re going house-hunting in the city today…”
House-hunting… Right. During yesterday’s discussion in the hospital room, those boys had eagerly demanded that their families let them move out.
The gossiping girl continued, “…My mom’s been nagging me nonstop these past two days—sleeping too late, waking up too late, not paying attention while eating, always playing on my phone. Sigh, I’m so jealous of them. Once they move out, they’ll be completely free. No more waking up so early for school like us.”
“But freedom aside, working is seriously exhausting. I got chewed out several times last night after working myself half to death. Compared to that, school actually feels easier.”
Mu Xiangxiang spread open the workbook on her desk. The reading comprehension passage was from Dear Andreas—
[My child, I ask you to study hard not because I want you to compete with others in grades, but because I hope that in the future you will have the right to choose—to choose meaningful work with time for yourself, instead of being forced to make a living. When your work has meaning to you, you gain fulfillment. When your work gives you time instead of depriving you of life, you gain dignity. Fulfillment and dignity bring happiness.]
*****
Yan Zhiyang received a message from one of his fellow bottom-ranked friends at school: [Yo, congrats on your early liberation. Go enjoy life to the fullest now.]
Throwing his phone aside, he collapsed weakly into his chair and closed his eyes with a tired sigh—
Life after becoming “independent” was nothing like he had imagined.
He had thought that the exhausting first night of work was already the worst disaster possible. But after experiencing all the troubles that followed, he realized that wearing mascot costumes and getting yelled at was nothing compared to everything else.
The place around them was a complete mess. Torn cardboard boxes were scattered everywhere, clothes and shoes and socks and suitcases piled up chaotically. The group of brothers who had dropped out together kept bumping into each other around the cramped room, somehow making the already tiny space even more unbearable.
The room itself was incredibly bare-bones—worse than the school dorms. At least the dorms had desks. This place had absolutely no decoration whatsoever, just four bunk beds crudely crammed inside.
Yan Zhiyang had originally planned to sleep in now that he no longer had to attend morning self-study, but he’d been forced out of bed at six in the morning—because the landlord had work, and they needed to finish all the handover procedures before she left.
The landlord was a middle-aged woman nearing retirement and incredibly difficult to deal with. She laid down countless rules and spoke in a bossy, overbearing tone. Under normal circumstances, Yan Zhiyang wouldn’t even bother giving someone like her the time of day—if annoyed enough, he might even argue back. But this time, he couldn’t afford to act however he wanted. After all, her place was the cheapest.
In short, the entire rental process had been unbearably humiliating.
Guo Zhi, stubbornly persevering despite his injury, hobbled around the room on crutches. Seeing Yan Zhiyang sprawled in a chair slacking off, he stopped and tapped his leg with a crutch. “What are you doing? Stop slacking and get up. Fold your clothes already.”
Yan Zhiyang grabbed at his hair in agony. After resisting for a few seconds, he still had no choice but to obey. Otherwise, the room would truly become impossible to walk through.
But housework really wasn’t his specialty. The limp, crumpled clothes became even more unmanageable in his hands. After much stuffing and fumbling, he barely managed to separate them into piles. Then his shoes smelled so bad that the others forced him to wash them. The tap water in the middle of winter was freezing cold, and while scrubbing the shoes, his hands felt like they were about to fall off from numbness.On top of that, there was sweeping, mopping, putting sheets on beds, making blankets, and endless other trivial chores. None of them seemed difficult individually, but piled together, they became unbearably irritating.
And yet they had to be done.
A group of tall, strong young men spent several hours struggling with tasks that had looked simple and easy, yet the room was still a disaster. When Yan Zhiyang finally hung his dripping wet shoes outside the window with aching hands, he suddenly found himself missing his clean and tidy home.
That morning, when he packed his things to leave, his mother had even cried.
That nagging, annoying mother of his… How had she managed to keep such a large home so neat and orderly? Yan Zhiyang realized he had never once thought about that question before. Soft clean blankets. Bedsheets changed every week. Sneakers scrubbed spotless. All things he’d woken up to every day, so naturally that he’d taken them completely for granted.
By noon, everyone was starving. One of the exhausted boys suggested, “Let’s go eat something good outside! To celebrate the official start of our independent lives!”
The atmosphere immediately brightened at the proposal. But after counting the communal funds in his pocket, Guo Zhi said awkwardly, “…We only have a little over three hundred left.”
When they’d declared their independence, they’d proudly promised both the school and their parents that they would never ask their families for money again. Yet when they actually left home, their families still stuffed them with some cash. Together with their usual allowance money and the wages they’d earned, it wasn’t a huge amount to begin with—and after paying rent and deposit that morning, there was barely anything left.
Three hundred. What the hell could three hundred buy? Never mind the places Brother Nan treated them to. Even when they paid for meals themselves before, they usually spent at least seventy or eighty yuan per person.
Everyone fell silent, clearly shaken by the realization. Was the first day of independent living really going to be celebrated with instant noodles?
After a long pause, Yan Zhiyang tried to joke through the misery. “It’s okay. Doesn’t this place have a kitchen? We can cook ourselves.”
But then came another catastrophe at the market. For the first time in their lives, boys who had never paid attention to household expenses discovered that the ingredients they liked eating were actually expensive. After carefully squeezing one hundred yuan into enough meat, vegetables, rice, and noodles for seven people, they returned only to argue over who had to wash the vegetables. Then everyone clutched their phones and searched Baidu for things like how much water to add to rice and how much salt to put in meat. After total chaos and disaster, they finally managed to eat well past the school lunch break.
There was no table, so they flipped over cardboard boxes to use as makeshift dining surfaces.
The excitement from earlier had long since faded.
There weren’t even stools in the room. Yan Zhiyang squatted on the floor eating from his bowl. Strangely enough, despite being starving, he had no appetite at all.
Was it because the food tasted bad? Not entirely.
Then someone suddenly muttered, “…My mom’s cooking tastes better.”
Yan Zhiyang lowered his head into his rice bowl. The room fell into silence. Not a single person spoke.
*****
But even this wasn’t the most crushing part.
When they went to work that afternoon, the mall apparently considered them “experienced” now, so their assignments became far more intense and demanding. Only then did they realize just how easy jumping around inside heavy mascot costumes had actually been.
Early spring in City A was cold—especially at night. After sunset, the freezing wind cut against their skin like blades.
The young men wrapped their coats tightly around themselves as they handed out flyers to passing pedestrians in the plaza.
The wind slipped through every opening—collars, sleeves, cuffs. Their exposed faces and hands had nowhere to hide, and their thick coats offered little protection against the prolonged cold. They shivered violently, forced to keep moving just to stop their limbs from stiffening. But the worst part wasn’t even the weather.
Pedestrians clearly disliked having flyers shoved at them. Only a small number would raise a hand to take one. Most simply ignored them completely, walking past their smiles and greetings without even looking at them. And then there were the harsher reactions—
“No thanks.”
“Go away.”
“Don’t bother me.”
“Fucking annoying. Can’t you see my hands are full? Are you blind? Get lost already!”
These boys had always been popular figures at school. When had they ever suffered humiliation like this? Guo Zhi, still leaning on crutches, exploded immediately after hearing it. The forced smile on his face vanished instantly. “Say that again, asshole!”
By the time the mall supervisor rushed over, the boys were already brawling fiercely with the foul-mouthed pedestrian.
They were dragged into the office and viciously scolded. “But he was the one who started cursing first!”
“So what?! This is work! Once you take the money, don’t expect things to go your way like they do at school! Nobody here cares about your feelings!”
The supervisor didn’t care in the slightest what they had experienced. He simply slammed the desk and yelled at them nonstop, showing absolutely no concern for preserving their dignity. In the end, he even ordered Guo Zhi to apologize to the rude pedestrian.
Of course, Guo Zhi refused. He hadn’t started it. The supervisor’s face immediately turned cold. “Fine then. Don’t come tomorrow.”
Yan Zhiyang and the others were trembling with rage. They almost snapped back with Who the fuck do you think you are talking to us like that? We’re not coming anyway.
But before they could speak, Guo Zhi raised a hand and stopped them.
That night after work, everyone’s mood was heavy.
Their faces were pale as they carefully glanced toward the front of the group. Guo Zhi, hobbling ahead on crutches, actually looked the calmest of them all.
Yan Zhiyang rubbed his face. Thinking about how Guo Zhi had been forced to apologize while that asshole kept berating him relentlessly, he felt so suffocated his throat tightened. After a long while, he finally asked quietly, “Da Zhi… you okay?”
“Huh?” Guo Zhi turned back. Seeing the concern on everyone’s faces, he gave a helpless smile. “Come on, I’m fine. Why’s everyone acting like this? Just ran into some asshole, that’s all. Think of it like getting bitten by a dog.”
No one replied. They all knew he couldn’t possibly be taking it that lightly.
But they had only just moved out. They desperately needed money. The jobs of all seven people depended on his decision alone.
Yan Zhiyang clenched his fists, his eyes heating up slightly, but he still didn’t expose the lie. “Then let’s go get some late-night food together.”
Guo Zhi smiled lightly. “Nah. You guys go ahead. I want to walk around by myself.”
Under the worried gazes of his friends, Guo Zhi slowly limped away alone on his crutches. He was exhausted—mind and body alike. Since childhood, he had never been this tired.
He wandered aimlessly with an empty head. By the time he snapped back to awareness, he realized he had unknowingly arrived at the entrance to his own home.
The old apartment building was low and shabby. At this hour, warm lights glowed from every household window. Guo Zhi looked up, searching for his own family’s window. His vision suddenly blurred.
The hallway sensor light flicked on. Startled, he quickly looked around and hid behind a nearby tree with his crutches. Then he froze.
The figure walking out of the apartment entrance was someone familiar. The middle-aged man shivered from the cold wind hitting him head-on. He set down the things in his hands, hunched over, rubbed his hands together, and breathed warm air into them.
Then he tightened his collar, picked up his things again, lowered his head, and hurried away. Guo Zhi stared at his father’s back. A moment later, for reasons even he didn’t understand, he followed after him.
The man stopped at the neighborhood’s bicycle parking shed, where a long pushcart food stall was parked. He switched on the lightbulb hanging from the canopy and slowly began arranging ingredients under the dim light.
A security guard passing by called out from afar, “Old Guo!”
Then he walked over quickly and immediately started complaining—how the cart was always in the way, how residents had filed complaints, and so on. His tone was aggressive and unpleasant.
Yet Guo Zhi’s father didn’t seem angry at all. The light illuminated his dark, weathered face lined with deep wrinkles. The fierce expression he usually wore around Guo Zhi was now replaced with a flattering smile. “Ah, really sorry about that. Causing trouble for your property management again. How about this—Xiao Li, call the night-shift brothers over for a drink later. My treat. Let it count as an apology.”
The bossy security guard pretended to refuse while simultaneously calling several others over. The middle-aged man smiled and chatted with them warmly. When he lit the stove, the wok tilted slightly, and he instinctively reached out to steady it.
The handle had probably been heated by the flames. He jerked his hand back instantly, his face twisting in pain as his whole body jumped.
But amid the security guards urging him to hurry up, he merely rubbed the burned palm carelessly against his pants, wrapped the wok handle with a rag, and started frying noodles.
Guo Zhi’s lips trembled. The flattering words spoken in his father’s usually harsh voice drifted into his ears. It felt as though an invisible hand had suddenly ripped away his vocal cords. He opened his mouth, wanting to call out Dad, yet no sound came. When he’d apologized to that asshole earlier, his eyes hadn’t even stung once. But now, without warning, tears began pouring down his face.
He didn’t even know how he got back to the shared dormitory. Didn’t know how he changed clothes, washed up, or climbed into that narrow, cold, hard bed.
No one else in the room spoke either. The noisy boys were strangely united in silence that night. Yan Zhiyang lay on the top bunk. He’d made the bed badly, and the mattress dug painfully into his back. He stared into the darkness for hours without falling asleep.
Then, in the pitch-black room, someone choked out a sobbing voice—
“Fuck… I really regret this now…”
******
Qiao Nan narrowed his eyes and let out a cold snort when he saw the nearly identical social media posts from Yan Zhiyang and Guo Zhi. Didn’t expect them to crack so quickly.
There were barely any people left on the roads of the urban village. Recently, he’d been busy training Yingcheng School’s basketball team, so he’d been getting home very late. Standing under a streetlamp, he called Mu Xiangxiang to report this “good news.”
Mu Xiangxiang didn’t seem surprised at all. Her voice was soft. “Their tempers are a lot like yours. There’s no way they can put up with the kind of humiliation that comes with part-time work. Sooner or later, they’ll come back.”
Qiao Nan immediately recalled the day he got scolded at work and verbally destroyed the manager until the guy had nothing left to say. He raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I’ve noticed you’ve gotten pretty rude lately.”
Mu Xiangxiang fell silent again. Listening to her quiet breathing through the phone, Qiao Nan curled his lips into a smile. “What’re you doing?”
“Reviewing.” Mu Xiangxiang could hear him walking on the other end. “Why are you only getting home this late?”
“Made a detour to buy some stuff.” Qiao Nan paused before adding, “For your old man and old lady.”
The weather had been cold lately, and Father and Mother Mu had been leaving the house especially early every day. During dinner one time, Qiao Nan had overheard Father Mu mention that Mother Mu’s chilblains—something she hadn’t suffered from in years—had come back.
Recently, Qiao Nan had become weirdly obsessed with buying products for middle-aged and elderly people. Whenever he casually spotted something on the street, he’d instinctively wonder whether it would suit his own dad. But since his biological father’s birthday present had already been handed over to Mu Xiangxiang, buying things for Mu Xiangxiang’s parents didn’t feel much different.
Mu Xiangxiang paused in surprise. “You really don’t have to keep buying things for my parents—”
“Alright, shut it already.” Qiao Nan narrowed his eyes toward the distance. A gaze had been peeking at him from a second-floor window, but the moment it met his eyes, the owner immediately ducked away. He lifted a brow, but his tone toward Mu Xiangxiang stayed unchanged. “They were cheap junk anyway. No need for you to worry so much.”
Mu Xiangxiang could only thank him before asking how her parents had been lately.
Qiao Nan gave a low laugh while recalling the people living on the second floor of the Mu house. “They’re doing great.”
It seemed Mother Mu had quit her job recently and now worked together with her husband every day. Because of the breakfast business, they usually weren’t home in the mornings, but their afternoons were free, so they’d cook dinner together for Qiao Nan when he got home from school.
Mother Mu had become increasingly energetic lately, striding around briskly all day long. Father Mu’s whole demeanor had changed too—his once-hunched back had straightened, and smiles lingered constantly at the corners of his eyes and brows.
And then there was Mu Song. For some reason, he’d also been coming home more often lately. Qiao Nan actually welcomed that. The kid was absurdly talented at tidying rooms and doing laundry—fast and efficient, too.
Just as he was thinking about that, he pushed open the front door and heard Father Mu’s voice, much fuller of spirit than before: “You’re seriously trying to drive me to my grave!”
Qiao Nan froze for a second, inwardly grateful that he’d already hung up with Mu Xiangxiang, before seeing the father and son confronting each other inside. “…What happened?”
Mu Song turned to glance at him. He neither spoke nor stormed out of the house, merely turning back to his room looking dispirited. Other than his unusual hair color, the kid actually looked pretty normal these days. He’d even stopped wearing those outrageously ripped jeans that screamed personal style.
Watching the bedroom door close, Qiao Nan set down his backpack and heard Mother Mu sigh. “What else? Your dad and I went to your little brother’s parent-teacher meeting today. His grades…” She sighed again. “His teacher said he never studies properly, just spends all day hanging around with a bunch of hooligan friends doing that what’s-it-called…”
“Band,” Father Mu supplied.
“Oh right, band. Some messy organization like that.” Mother Mu looked troubled. “And now he wants to borrow money from your dad to buy that…”
“Guitar,” Father Mu said.
“Right.” Mother Mu sighed. “Isn’t that just nonsense?”
The couple was deeply anxious. For decades they had firmly believed in the saying “all professions are inferior to studying,” and had raised their children with the same belief. Their eldest daughter had always been worry-free, but this youngest son had been hopeless academically since childhood. Now he was participating in some “band” thing where, according to what they’d heard, people just sang and danced all day. How could that possibly count as a respectable pursuit? It sounded unreliable no matter how they looked at it.
Qiao Nan, however, remained completely calm. Bands? Yingcheng was full of hobby clubs like that. He himself had joined one back in middle school, though everyone had sucked and it had basically just been fooling around.
So without reacting much, he handed the bag in his hand to Mother Mu, went back to his room to change clothes, then came out and knocked on Mu Song’s door.
A moment later, the door opened. Mu Song’s delicate yet cold face appeared from behind it. After several days of “training,” however, he no longer dared act up in front of his sister, so his tone remained fairly restrained. “What?”
Qiao Nan shoved his dirty clothes into Mu Song’s arms and jerked his chin toward the bathroom.
Mu Song: “……”
He thought bitterly: I literally just finished arguing with Dad and I’m still pissed off. Could you maybe show me a little respect?
Obviously not.
So in the end, he could only drag a dark face around while hugging the laundry and silently head into the bathroom.
As Mu Song stepped out, Qiao Nan’s gaze swept past him into the room behind, and he raised an eyebrow slightly. Mu Song’s room looked completely different from Mu Xiangxiang’s. It was just as cramped, but the personal style was intense—pitch-black walls, dim lighting, posters of The Beatles, BEYOND, and various other bands plastered near the bed. A corkboard hung on the wall with pages pinned to it. The contents weren’t clear, though they looked vaguely like guitar tablature.
Wow. Very rebellious teenager. It matched the gray hair perfectly.
Qiao Nan looked away and saw Father Mu and Mother Mu examining the gloves he’d bought. The irritation from their earlier argument with Mu Song had completely disappeared from their faces.
The way the couple looked at their daughter was so warm it was practically melting, yet they still complained verbally: “You brat, always buying random stuff like this. Was it expensive?”
Qiao Nan decided not to tell them the real price. “Street stall stuff. Thirty yuan a pair. Cheap.”
“Thirty yuan and you still call that cheap?” Mother Mu looked pained as she carefully put the gloves away. “If you’ve got money, you should spend more on yourself…”
Qiao Nan had never been a patient person, so he immediately started feeling irritated.
Then he watched as Mother Mu grumbled about how expensive the gloves were while returning to her room. A moment later, she came back carrying another bag.
The instant Qiao Nan saw the logo on it, he froze. The irritation faded somewhat. “What’s this?”
Mother Mu exchanged a glance with her husband and revealed a mysterious smile. “Look.”
She opened the bag and pulled out a brown leather handbag with one hand. This time Qiao Nan genuinely froze, because he recognized the style instantly. He’d once owned one himself—it was the trendy briefcase-style school bag popular among Yingcheng students.
Of course, the school didn’t distribute them. It was simply a trend started by generations of students. The differences between Yingcheng Private School and ordinary schools in City A showed in many ways, including the more refined aesthetic tastes of wealthy kids.
The plain cloth backpack Mu Xiangxiang carried every day had actually become an oddity at school. Still, Qiao Nan understood why—after all, the leather school bag cost over two thousand yuan, an absurd amount for the Mu family’s financial situation.
Father Mu squinted happily as he smiled. “Other people’s daughters have one. My daughter should have one too.”
Qiao Nan stared blankly. “You guys…”
Mother Mu stuffed the bag into his arms and rubbed his head. “Just use it. Your dad and I have been making pretty good money from breakfast lately. It’s not expensive.”
She wasn’t exaggerating either. The breakfast business was far more profitable than she’d imagined, especially since rice noodle rolls had incredibly low production costs. They’d earned back all their startup expenses—ingredients, equipment, stall rent—on the very first day.
They’d originally thought that alone was already astonishing. Who knew business would only get better after that?
As their rice noodle roll stall gradually became famous, regular customers started bringing in new ones. Some people who didn’t even work near Youth Plaza would deliberately make detours just to eat there.
In all their lives, the Mu couple had never experienced money coming this easily. Mother Mu had practically quit her old job without hesitation. After all, three days of breakfast stall profits already matched nearly an entire month of her previous salary.
If not for that, the couple would never have had the confidence to step into the store selling that bag.
Yet what surfaced in Qiao Nan’s mind was the image of this mother frowning while nagging that the “thirty-yuan” gloves were too expensive. Lowering his head, he didn’t avoid the hand on his hair the way he once would have. His emotions became complicated.
Right at that moment, rhythmic knocking sounded from the door, followed by a familiar voice outside: “Old Mu? Younger brother and sister-in-law? You home? It’s me.”
Mu Xiangxiang’s eldest aunt?
Qiao Nan looked up, temporarily pushing aside his emotions, then frowned. He suddenly remembered that this seemed to be the person who’d been secretly peeking at him from the second floor earlier.
*****
The eldest aunt of the Mu family, Hu Cui, narrowed her eyes and listened to the sounds inside before giving her husband a look. Her husband still seemed hesitant. “You really want to say it?”
“Of course!” Hu Cui shot him a glance. “I went to check a few days ago. Their stall has the best business in the entire plaza. One of the nearby vendors said with that kind of customer traffic, they make at least this much every day—”
She raised her fingers in a gesture, her face showing a strange mixture of envy and jealousy. “And when A-Si came home today, she was carrying shopping bags from XX brand. I don’t even dare look too closely when I walk past that store.”
Her husband fell silent for a moment. “…But we already promised…”
Back then, they’d taken advantage of Father Mu’s desperate need for money to acquire this house, causing a huge uproar among relatives. The couple had been criticized behind their backs for years. Only after they voluntarily rented the first floor back to Father Mu’s family had the gossip died down a little. The Mu relatives all loved meddling in other people’s business, and he cared a lot about face. Nothing scared him except being criticized behind his back. He truly worried that if they crossed the line again, people would seize on it.
“Promised what?” Hu Cui snapped unhappily. “They’re allowed to make money while we suffer losses? What kind of logic is that? We’re just raising the rent a little—it’s not like we’re refusing to let them live there!”
Just then, the door opened. Her expression instantly changed into a smile directed at Mother Mu.
*****
“Fifty thousand a year?!” Mother Mu’s eyes widened in shock. “Sister-in-law, this… this increase is way too much, isn’t it?”
The Mu family’s original annual rent had only been a bit over twenty thousand. This was more than double!
Hu Cui glanced sideways at the bag tucked in her niece’s arms before smiling. “A-Si, you know perfectly well the rent we’ve been charging you was already below market price. Just compare it to nearby houses—where else could you possibly rent something this cheap?”
Then she turned toward Father Mu. Thinking about his current income, she no longer addressed him as “cripple” like before. “Right, little brother? Besides, it’s not like you’re short on money anymore.”
Father Mu didn’t refute her. Neither he nor his wife were good with words. His sister-in-law’s request sounded logical and well-supported, leaving him unsure how to argue back. And honestly, she wasn’t wrong. With the breakfast stall’s income, their family truly wouldn’t lack fifty thousand yuan in the future.
Facing the overwhelmingly dominant elder brother’s family that had always suppressed him, Father Mu—who had only recently begun regaining confidence in life—once again felt weak and timid. Years of enduring and yielding in front of them had become instinct carved into his bones. Avoiding his sister-in-law’s aggressive gaze, he lowered his head, his back unconsciously hunching again. “Th-then… then let’s…”
“Dad.”
Just as he was about to agree out of habit—thinking as always that it was better to avoid trouble—a calm voice suddenly rang out beside him.
He instinctively turned around and saw his daughter leaning expressionlessly against the wall, holding her new school bag.
Qiao Nan narrowed his eyes as he swept a glance around the room, lingering on the two faces that annoyed him immensely. He genuinely couldn’t understand why Mu Xiangxiang’s parents still kept tolerating these people after everything.
So he simply voiced what was on his mind. “Can’t we just move out?”
Father Mu froze. Mother Mu froze too. After a brief silence, the eldest aunt’s family immediately changed expressions. “Hey—!”
But nobody paid them any attention anymore. The husband and wife merely exchanged a look, and at the exact same moment, both saw the same dawning realization appear on each other’s faces.
Move out?
That’s right. City A was no longer the city it had been many, many years ago—back when they’d wandered homeless and couldn’t even find a place to rent no matter how much money they had.
Perhaps they had simply lived in this shabby urban village for far too long.
So long that, before hearing their daughter say it aloud, the thought had never even occurred to them.
Author’s Note:
The Mu family’s new life is finally beginning~~~ Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!
However, none of this has anything to do with Mu Song.
Mu Song [holding dirty laundry]: “Why do I have to do laundry?!”
Mu Song [scrub scrub scrub]: “These are delicate hands meant for playing guitar!”
Mu Song [hanging clothes]: “So mad!”
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