Gu Lizhou knocked on the door of 301 for quite a while, but no one answered. Instead, a middle-aged woman with dyed hair came up the hallway, holding a small folding stool in her hand.

“You’re also looking for Zhong Weishi ah?” The woman curiously sized him up.

“Ah.” Gu Lizhou nodded.

“He owes you money ah?” The woman asked.

Gu Lizhou was taken aback, “No ah, did he owe you money?”

“Yes ah, he hasn’t paid last month’s rent yet. Always delaying, delaying, and now I can’t even reach him by phone. Today, I’m determined to catch him,” the woman said.

When the old house was sold years ago, it was handled by Gu Lizhou’s father. Gu Lizhou didn’t know about it. It wasn’t until after his college entrance exams that he found out the old house was gone—he couldn’t go back.

“Are you the landlord here ah?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“No, the house belongs to my cousin. She’s gone abroad, so I’m here to collect the rent for her,” The woman couldn’t stop once she started talking. “The little kid is actually quite straightforward. He’s been living here for several years, but he’s too playful, always hanging out with a bunch of odd people. I suspect he’s deliberately avoiding me… If he doesn’t show up today, I’m going to call someone to change the lock.”

Gu Lizhou watched her make a call.

It was indeed off.

The woman started nagging again, “He’s also unwilling to find a proper job, always dreaming about becoming an actor. I mean, with the thousands of people in the Film and Television City, what are the chances that kind of luck will fall on him? It’s all about having connections ya. Kids just don’t understand these things…”

To Gu Lizhou, her chatter sounded like a buzzing bee, going on and on. It was getting hard to listen to, so he interrupted, “How much does he owe you ah? I’ll cover it for now.”

The woman was first delighted, then curiously asked, “Who are you to him ya?”

“Friend,” Gu Lizhou replied. “Auntie, wait here for me. I’ll go get my phone and transfer the money to you, alright?”

“Sure, sure, sure,” The woman smiled and nodded repeatedly.

After Gu Lizhou paid, he sat on the balcony, lost in thought.

Zhong Weishi would perform some kind of talent for them almost every night, so Cao Zhiheng had left a long bench in the hallway, too lazy to move it back inside.

The old lady who sold takoyaki would always greet him with a smile when she saw him, “Waiting for the moon again ah?”

“Ah.” Gu Lizhou lit a cigarette.

If it were anyone else, they might think he was sick in the head, but the old lady would cheerfully say, “The weather’s great today. The moon will definitely be bright.”

Tonight’s moon was indeed very bright.

In City B, the smog was severe, and even on clear days, it was rare to see such a clear moon. But Yucheng was different.

The night sky twinkled with stars, as plentiful as shells on a beach, so abundant that one could step on them with every other step.

His thoughts drifted away.

Around nine o’clock, most of the lights in the apartment building had gone out.

When Zhong Weishi trudged up the stairs, exhausted, he was startled by a tall figure standing still at the door of 301.

“You finally know to come back, huh?”

When the other party spoke, Zhong Weishi breathed a sigh of relief, “It’s you ah. You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing standing here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?!”

As Zhong Weishi fumbled for his keys to open the door, Gu Lizhou stepped inside right behind him.

“Do you need something?” Zhong Weishi dropped his backpack and collapsed onto the sofa.

Gu Lizhou said, “It’s not me who needs something; it’s your landlord. She said you’re two months behind on rent.”

“Oh…” Zhong Weishi rubbed his sore eyes and patted his calves. “I’m out of money.”

“Out of money again?” Gu Lizhou put one hand on his waist, pointing at him. “What about the money you make going out early and coming back late every day?”

“I gave it all to my grandma,” Zhong Weishi said.

Gu Lizhou frowned, “Didn’t you say you’re an orphan?! Where did this grandma come from?”

“She’s the grandma from the orphanage who used to take care of me. Her granddaughter called me this afternoon, saying she had a stroke and passed out,” Zhong Weishi explained.

Gu Lizhou froze.

Decades ago, a privately-run orphanage opened in the town of City C. It took in many local children who were born with disabilities or were homeless, and it also helped many find new homes.

Grandma Zhao was originally a rural teacher. After retiring, she worked at the orphanage, helping Director Li care for the children.

Eventually, due to Director Li’s age and lack of energy to raise funds from different places, the orphanage couldn’t continue operating and faced closure.

Zhong Weishi happened to be part of the last batch of children there. He was dark-skinned and scrawny as a child, looking like a sickly little monkey, so no one adopted him, even into his teens.

The older he got, the less people wanted to adopt him, fearing they wouldn’t bond properly.

Not long after the orphanage closed, the director passed away. At that time, only Zhong Weishi and a group of children with disabilities were left in the orphanage. Those children were gradually sent to the city’s orphanage, but Zhong Weishi cried and caused a fuss, refusing to leave, even sneaking out in the middle of the night by climbing over the wall.

After Grandma Zhao called the police and found him, she kept him with her.

Most of the children from the orphanage, as long as they didn’t have mental disabilities, were assigned simple jobs at local small units once they reached adulthood. Those who couldn’t work were supported by the government, but their living conditions were often bleak.

Zhong Weishi was considered one of the lucky ones, as Grandma Zhao had forced him to attend high school for two years.

“She used to tease me back then, saying, ‘You’re so ugly. If you don’t study hard and earn money, no girl will want to be with you.’” Zhong Weishi was picking at a small hole in his pants, making it bigger and bigger as he spoke.

A helpless life, a helpless fate. There were always people living difficult lives in unexpected ways, in unexpected places.

“Why didn’t you keep studying then?” Gu Lizhou asked.

“We were too poor at that time,” Zhong Weishi replied. “Grandma was already old and still had to take odd jobs to make money. She also had a granddaughter who needed to go to school, so I quit and went out to work.”

“I see ah…” Gu Lizhou pursed his lips, feeling it was a pity.

Zhong Weishi was in his second year of high school about six years ago. At that time, Gu Lizhou was busy serializing his last piece <Souls of the Departed> for Star Century.

If he had known earlier that such a place and such people existed, maybe he could have done something to help.

“Grandma and the director were really, really good people, but it’s a shame I haven’t made anything of myself. Grandma must be so disappointed in me.” Zhong Weishi hung his head and sighed. “If I had lots of money, she wouldn’t have to live so hard… and maybe her body wouldn’t have worn out from all the work.”

Gu Lizhou suddenly realized that when people are unhappy, even their hair strands are listless and have lost their former brightness.

The living room light flickered due to a faulty connection, and Zhong Weishi’s voice gradually weakened. There were a few soft sniffling sounds, like he was trying hard to hold back his emotions.

Gu Lizhou guessed that his eyes must be very red now.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling, or what he wanted to do, but by the time he snapped back to reality, his hand was already resting on Zhong Weishi’s head.

This was the first time he had ever touched someone else’s hair, and the texture reminded him of petting a large dog.

Soft… and oddly comforting.

“It’s not your fault,” Gu Lizhou’s voice was soft and gentle. “You still remember Grandma’s kindness, and you went to the hospital to see her as soon as you could. I’m sure that made her very happy.”

Zhong Weishi froze for a moment, and a tear slipped from his eye, landing on his thigh. “Really?”

“Of course.” Gu Lizhou’s tone lifted at the end, making his answer sound particularly sincere.

Zhong Weishi sniffled.

Maybe it was because the other party was older, or maybe because his actions and words were so gentle, but he gave off a sense of reliability, and his words felt reasonable.

That’s right, grandma must be happy.

Before Zhong Weishi had a chance to fully recover from his sadness, the reliable one suddenly said, “Just how ugly were you as a kid ah? Do you have a photo I can see?”

“fvck!” Zhong Weishi angrily threw a pillow at him. “Is that the point here?!”

As Gu Lizhou caught the pillow, he saw that Zhong Weishi was smiling.