Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 129 Li Chengyi

Maryland.

It's less than a 40-minute drive from Washington, D.C.

The forests of Potomac are always like this.

Despite the limited lighting, it never feels cold or gloomy.

In mid-to-late June, the afternoon sun streamed through the gaps in the tree canopy, falling on the moss-covered stone path.

The driveway is paved with gravel and lined with untrimmed shrubs.

The slender branches were still wet with rainwater, rustling softly in the wind.

The person walking in front was a female real estate agent, carrying a folder and keys.

Blonde, in her early thirties, wearing a white suit with a pearl necklace at the collar.

She turned around and smiled habitually: "Not many people come to view properties in this area in the summer. You are the first customer to make an appointment."

Zhou Yi nodded but did not answer.

His gaze went over her shoulder and landed on the house.

A three-story wooden detached building surrounded by trees.

There is a lawn in the front yard, and some overgrown weeds are already peeking out near the building.

The exterior walls were painted dark gray, and some of the wooden planks were slightly warped, but fortunately, it did not affect the overall structure.

“This house was built in 1975, and the previous owner was a federal judge.”

"After he passed away two years ago, he was transferred to a trust and released for listing by the manager."

As the woman explained, she reached out and pushed open the door.

"The overall layout hasn't changed much; only the kitchen and master bathroom have been upgraded."

"The structure is very stable, the kind built by old-fashioned craftsmen, with a deep foundation and all load-bearing walls made of solid wood."

She casually pointed to the load-bearing column in the living room, "These kinds of houses are not very common nowadays."

The living room is spacious, with dark walnut wood flooring that is polished to a slightly reflective finish.

On the left is a built-in fireplace.

The bookshelf against the wall was mostly empty, crammed with a few old books, their covers rolled up and spines crooked.

Zhou Yi's gaze swept over the coffee table, and he was surprised to find that it looked almost exactly like he remembered it.

“You’re in luck,” the woman continued. “Detached houses in this area are very rare on the market, especially those with this level of greenery.”

“Outside the backyard is a whole protected area.”

"It's not an official national park, but development is strictly prohibited by local regulations. That means you'll never have any neighbors nearby."

“There are no neighbors,” Zhou Yi said softly.

The woman thought he was repeating the key point and nodded in agreement: "Yes, no neighbors, absolute privacy."

"Moreover, the terrain here is high and the foundation is deep, so it is not easy for it to get damp."

"Water, electricity, and natural gas are all available. The property management is privately contracted, and the community doesn't interfere much with the residents."

Zhou Yi stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the grove of trees.

Maple trees grow at the bottom of the slope, swaying slightly in the wind.

Not far away, two white-tailed deer appeared to be walking by.

He remembered this angle.

There is a crack under the eaves, visible only under certain lighting conditions, and it still exists today, unrepaired.

"Can we go upstairs for a walk?" Zhou Yi turned around.

"Of course, please follow me."

The stairs are made of wrought iron and make almost no noise when you step on them.

The second-floor hallway is carpeted in beige, and on both sides are several bedrooms and a study.

She opened each room one by one, patiently explaining the layout.

"This is the master bedroom, which has its own bathroom and walk-in closet."

"The east side is the former owner's study, which can certainly be converted into a children's room."

Zhou Yi reached the end of the corridor and opened a door. The bedroom faced east.

The view outside the window is breathtaking.

The carpet was newly laid; it was light gray wool.

He stood at the doorway, not going in immediately, but first glancing at the corner of the wall.

There was a slight dark color at the edge of the floor, not deep, not clear, and not even worthy of being called a stain.

The sun was cold in 1992. My mother's body lay there, clutching a pistol, lifeless.

The splattered blood didn't drip down the wall; instead, it pooled together.

Zhou Yi observed carefully for a few more seconds before entering the room and standing by the window.

The leaves rustled in the wind, and a familiar chill seemed to seep into my bones.

He slowly squatted down, his fingers tracing the floor before finally stopping at a slightly raised tenon joint.

Zhou Yi pried it up with force.

The slot loosened with a click, the thin plate was removed, revealing a space of about half a meter square inside.

There, on the floor, lay a notebook with a kraft paper cover and three books without covers or titles.

There was also a typewriter-printed manuscript, bound with nails, the paper yellowed.

He pulled out one of the books and opened it.

The title page is written in Russian, with extremely neat penmanship.

The content involves some kind of analysis about *******.

It cites Luxemburg, Grossman, and a long list of Eastern European socialist documents from the 1930s.

The other volume is a purely Chinese manuscript.

The conclusion states:
"After 1960, most Western left-wing theories lost their basic framework for revolutionary analysis and degenerated into academic soliloquy."

"The most serious problem with the American New Left is that it believes in anti-culture and avoids power."

Finally, a black and white photograph, taken on a street somewhere, was included.

Three men and one woman stood side by side, wearing thick woolen coats, looking relaxed.

Turning it over, there were only a few words on the other side.

Remember me—Li Chengyi

Just then, the sound of high heels clicking on the carpet came from outside the door.

The woman then appeared in the doorway, smiling as she said, "The light in this room is wonderful; it must be very comfortable to wake up in the morning."

She was halfway through her sentence when she noticed the naked spine manuscript in the man's hand, and a hint of hesitation appeared on her face.

"Huh? Are there still books in here? I remember the bookshelves were all cleared out."

She took two steps closer, and after seeing the yellowed pages clearly, she paused. "What are these?"

Zhou Yi closed the book and casually put it back in the hidden compartment.

“I guessed,” he said calmly.

"what--"

The woman paused, seemingly unsure whether to continue the conversation, and could only awkwardly compliment, "You have a keen eye for old books; that's quite rare."

Zhou Yi didn't reply, but put the cover back in place without leaving any gaps.

Seeing this, the woman wisely refrained from asking further questions and then said, "Shall we continue?"

"There are still quite a few pieces of equipment left by the previous owner on the third floor, which you might be interested in—if you have a fitness hobby."

“No need,” Zhou Yi said. “I want this one.”

The woman paused for a moment, then reacted and asked in surprise:
"You mean we can prepare the contract now?"

"Full payment," he said. "Send me the documents before noon tomorrow."

Upon hearing this, the woman's smile became even more genuine, even tinged with excitement:
“Of course, I’ll contact the law firm tonight to handle it. To be honest, we rarely encounter buyers as decisive as you.”

She looked at Zhou Yi, hesitated for half a second, and then added:
"Actually, if you're free tonight, I know a bar nearby that's nice and not noisy."

(End of this chapter)