Brian Bolton heard him speak so rudely, his face darkened and he said, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing much, I just figured if your wife was home, you wouldn't have the guts to come over." Andrew Clark said with a smile.

With people like this, Andrew Clark couldn't be bothered to waste time, so he said, "It's getting late, Brother Bolton, go back to sleep."

"Hey! This whole yard is mine, I can be wherever I want, you, you—what are you doing..."

Andrew Clark walked over and grabbed him by the collar, gave a tug, and Brian Bolton's big, fat body was yanked right off the bed.

"What are you doing! Let go of me! Let go!"

Brian Bolton flailed his arms wildly, finally grabbing onto Andrew Clark's arm, trying to break free.

Andrew Clark's arm, which looked skinny, gripped his collar like an iron clamp.

"Let go! I'm telling you, I'm not renting your place anymore! Damn it, get the hell out of here! Let go, or you'll be sorry!"

Brian Bolton screamed like a pig being dragged to slaughter, but he just couldn't break free.

Andrew Clark dragged him all the way out into the yard, then with a sudden heave, tossed him more than a meter away. He followed up with a kick, landing right on his tailbone.

Brian Bolton let out a pig-like howl, feeling like half his body was paralyzed. The alcohol instantly wore off, and when he looked at Andrew Clark, his eyes were full of fear.

The other two tenants, hearing the commotion, opened their doors and windows to peek out. Seeing the landlord lying on the ground getting beaten up, they were all secretly pleased, but didn't dare get involved. After a quick glance, they pulled their heads back in.

"So, can you walk on your own, or do you need me to take you back inside?" Andrew Clark asked.

The sharp pain from earlier had faded, but Brian Bolton was still shaken, his whole body trembling. He quickly said, "No, no, I can walk by myself!"

He scrambled to his feet and stumbled back into his room, slamming the door shut with a loud "bang."

Andrew Clark shook his head and said to Yvonne Wright, who was standing dumbly to the side, "It's fine now. You should go back to sleep too, and lock your door."

He turned to head back to his room, but Yvonne Wright quickly called out, "Mr. Clark!"

"Yeah? Is there something else?" Andrew Clark asked.

"Can you stay with me for a while? I'm scared." Yvonne Wright's voice was soft, and she didn't dare look at him.

Andrew Clark thought, since he couldn't sleep anyway, he might as well chat for a bit, so he said, "Sure, let me go get some water first."

He went back to his room, brought out his big tea mug, and the two of them went into Yvonne Wright's room.

Chapter 3: Moving

The early spring night was very cold. The wind wasn't strong, but it was biting. The window cracks were all sealed with paper, neat and tight. The stove was burning hot, making the small inner room feel especially warm.

This was the second time Andrew Clark had been in this room—the first time was when he helped her move in. Back then, it was empty and cold. Now, with a quick glance, he saw the small bed covered with an embroidered spread, a dressing table in the corner with four or five bottles and jars on top, and pink curtains trailing to the floor, casting the shadows of the two of them.

Andrew Clark sat on a chair, Yvonne Wright sat on the bed. Neither spoke. The old clock ticked and tocked, its pendulum swinging, and suddenly the atmosphere turned ambiguous.

Yvonne Wright kept her head down, fiddling with the hem of her clothes. Andrew Clark sipped water from his big tea mug, gulping it down, feeling frustrated inside.

He'd just wanted to chat since he couldn't sleep, but once inside, he didn't know what to say. The awkward atmosphere caught him off guard, and he felt a bit at a loss.

"Mr. Clark." Yvonne Wright spoke first.

"Yeah?"

Yvonne Wright said worriedly, "You offended Brian Bolton today. I'm afraid he won't let you stay here anymore."

Andrew Clark said, "It's fine, he doesn't dare do anything to me. But you should find another place, in case he comes back to harass you."

"Where could I go? Rent is so expensive now. This place is a bit rundown, but at least it's cheap. Besides, as long as you're here, I'm not afraid of him." Yvonne Wright's voice grew even softer, her cheeks glowing red in the lamplight, like a peach blossom in bloom.

"Uh... I might have to move out," Andrew Clark said awkwardly.

Yvonne Wright was stunned for a moment, then anxiously asked, "Move out? Where are you going?"

"I ran into two people today—they insisted on having me act in a movie, so I have to go to Shanxi for a while."

Andrew Clark didn't hide anything and explained the situation.

Yvonne Wright asked suspiciously, "A movie? They want you?"

Realizing her words could be misunderstood, she quickly waved her hands, "I didn't mean it like that, I just—"

"Heh, don't worry, I don't believe it myself," Andrew Clark laughed. "They're two students from the film academy, seemed pretty legit. I don't have much going on, so I agreed. Figured it'd be a new experience."

"Are they paying you?" Yvonne Wright asked, voicing the same question he had.

Andrew Clark gestured with his hand, "This much."

"Two hundred?"

Andrew Clark sweatdropped, "Two thousand!"

"That much!" Yvonne Wright was a little surprised—that was nearly three months' salary for her.

"It's alright, I'll be there for two months, so it's not that much when you think about it."

"So, you won't be living here anymore?" Yvonne Wright asked.

"Yeah, I'll be leaving in a few days. The lease is almost up anyway, so I'll just move out. I was being serious earlier—Brian Bolton is a real scoundrel, he'll definitely cause you trouble in the future. Try to find a new place soon. While I'm still here, I can help you move." Andrew Clark said as he drank his water.