His physiological preference

Yang Zhiyan was taken aback. She hadn't expected her mother to give in so easily.

Sure enough, Yang's mother said the second half of the sentence.

"But you have to pay alimony."

Yang Zhiyan leaned against the shoe cabinet, her back against the cold wooden board. The chill seeped through the fabric of her shirt and clung to her skin.

"Mom, you're in your fifties, the prime of your life," Yang Zhiyan said, thinking to herself, "If you want your son to inherit the family fortune, go ahead and do it yourself. Don't drag me into it."

"You should work hard first and try to earn another house for my brother. When you're in your seventies or eighties, I will support you according to my legal obligations."

After she finished speaking, she straightened up from the shoe cabinet, turned around, and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. The handle popped out with a crisp "click."

"Yan Yan..." Yang's mother's voice came from behind.

Yang Zhiyan did not turn around.

She opened the door, and the wheels of her suitcase rolled over the threshold with a dull thud.

The motion-activated lights in the corridor were activated by the sound and turned on with a "snap," the pale light shining on her face and clearly illuminating the bluish-gray under her eyes.

The door closed behind me.

The motion-activated lights in the corridor went out again three steps after she stepped out. Darkness surged in from all directions, but Yang Zhiyan didn't stop.

The wheels of the suitcase rumbled on the concrete floor, echoing through the empty corridor like a heartbeat, strong and alive.

She pressed the elevator button.

While waiting for the elevator, she glanced down at her phone.

There were two messages on the screen. One was from Teacher Mu: "Have you rented a place yet? Let me know if you have, and I'll come help you settle in tomorrow."

The other message was from Jiang Siya: "You moved out? Really? I'm going to your housewarming party to congratulate you on your new home."

She replied to Teacher Mu first: "It's rented, I'll move in tomorrow, teacher, you don't need to come, I can pack by myself."

He replied to Jiang Siya, "Okay. Let's go out for dinner tomorrow."

The elevator arrived. She pushed her suitcase inside and pressed the button for the first floor. As the elevator doors closed, she looked up at the mirror inside the elevator.

The person in the mirror had a pale face and bloodless lips, but bright eyes, with a relieved gleam.

As I stepped out of the building, the night breeze hit me in the face.

In late May, the night wind in Haicheng was no longer cool, but rather lukewarm, carrying the scent of holly leaves from the roadside and the aroma of smoke drifting from distant barbecue stalls.

Yang Zhiyan stood downstairs and looked up at the window where she had lived for over a year. A faint light shone from behind the curtains; it was probably from the floor lamp in the living room that hadn't been turned off, or perhaps her mother was looking down from the window.

She didn't check.

I looked down, opened the ride-hailing app, and entered my destination: Shengshi Tianxi.

The system displayed the estimated fare: 83 yuan. She glanced at it and clicked confirm. Previously, she would have felt bad about spending 83 yuan and would have considered taking the bus and then the subway, saving an hour and a half.

She didn't want to save money today. Today she wanted to get to her place as quickly as possible.

The ride-hailing car arrived five minutes later. It was a white Nissan Sylphy, and the driver was a man in his forties. He got out of the car and helped her put her suitcase into the trunk quickly.

Yang Zhiyan opened the back door and got in, gave the last four digits of her phone number, and didn't look back as the car drove out of the residential area.

The street scene outside the car window was receding. She was heading towards her happy life.

The gates of Shengshi Tianxi look even more magnificent at night than during the day.

The intertwined floral patterns on the wrought iron gate are outlined in three dimensions by the light, and the wall lamps on the gateposts emit a warm yellow light, illuminating the landscape stone at the entrance. Four characters are engraved on the stone in running script, with sharp strokes.

Yang Zhiyan got out of the car, took her suitcase from the trunk, and dragged it into the residential area. She swiped her access card.

The corridor on the 22nd floor was quiet.

The motion-activated lights turned on the moment she stepped out of the elevator, illuminating the corridor in a blinding white light. There were two apartments per floor; hers was on the left, the right door was closed. She took out her key from her bag, inserted it into the lock, and turned it twice.

The door opened.

The room was dark and had the distinctive smell of a new house, a mixture of wood flooring and wall paint. It wasn't pungent; instead, it made people feel at ease.

She reached out and touched the wall, found the light switch, and with a "click," the living room light turned on.

The moment the lights shone down, Yang Zhiyan stood in the entryway, looking at the bright space before her: the gray and white fabric sofa, the light wood coffee table, the night view of the riverside park outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the faint lights of boats on the river in the distance. Suddenly, she felt like crying.

I'm happy. Being alone makes me feel relaxed, both physically and mentally.

Yang Zhiyan pushed her suitcase inside, closed the door, and changed her shoes. That's good.

She stood there for a while, then turned around and went back inside, closing the balcony door behind her.

The luggage wasn't packed yet. The suitcase lay flat on the bedroom floor, zipper open, revealing neatly folded clothes inside.

She took out the clothes and hung them in the wardrobe one by one. The wardrobe was large, with three doors, but she only occupied the leftmost shelf, leaving the two shelves on the right empty. The hangers swayed back and forth on the horizontal bar, making a soft metallic sound.

After hanging up the clothes, she took her toiletries to the bathroom and placed them on the sink: a bottle of face wash, a tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a comb.

"You did it," she said.

Yang Zhiyan silently praised herself in her heart: Yang Zhiyan, you are great, you will get better and better.

---

At the same time. Downstairs.

A discreet black Hongqi car drove into the underground parking lot of Shengshi Tianxi. The headlights flashed twice at the entrance, the license plate recognition system beeped, and the barrier slowly rose.

Qin Yuzheng sat in the back seat with his eyes closed.

I drank some alcohol tonight, not much, but it had a strong aftereffect. An indescribable, irritating feeling rose from my stomach, like something was burning inside.

He loosened his tie, pulled his bow tie down a bit, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone. His Adam's apple bobbed beneath his skin.

"Secretary Qin, we've arrived at Shengshi Tianxi." The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

Qin Yuzheng opened his eyes. There were bloodshot veins in his eyes, not many, but they were particularly noticeable against the whites of his eyes.

He grunted in agreement, and the driver opened the car door, with the long-legged man stepping out first.

Qin Yuzheng doesn't usually live here.

He was used to living in the villa in Bishuiwan. It was quiet and private. The osmanthus tree in the yard was planted by him, and every autumn the yard was filled with sweet fragrance.

But I wasn't feeling well today and didn't want to travel that far, so I asked the driver to take me to Shengshi Tianxi, which is nearby.

The elevator goes up from the basement level.

Qin Yuzheng leaned against the elevator wall, one hand in his pocket and the other pinching his brow.

His forehead was pinched until it turned red, but he didn't stop, because this action kept him awake.

The elevator stopped on the 22nd floor.

The motion-activated lights in the corridor turned on, glaringly white. Qin Yuzheng walked out and pressed his fingerprint. He felt a little drunk tonight, but he clearly hadn't drunk much; the tactile sensation in his fingers had become dulled.

Qin Yuzheng seemed to see that the door next door was open a crack.

The door was half-open, and warm yellow light shone through the crack.

Then he saw the person he had been longing for day and night.

She was walking out of the door—no, not walking out, but with her back to the door, bending down to put something down in the entryway.

Her hair was loose, black, and draped over her shoulders, with slightly curled ends that fell to her shoulder blades.

She was wearing a light blue shirt and jeans. Her waist was hidden by the hem of the shirt, so it wasn't very clear, but you could tell she was very thin, with narrow shoulders and a slim waist.