"And then?" Zhou Yiyang leaned back in the recliner, swaying gently. It would have been more lively if he had been holding a glass of red wine instead of a bottle of mineral water.
Zhang Yiling smiled and cast her soft gaze on the green plant growing alone in the pot.
"I asked, what to grow." Zhang Yiling can now imagine the powerlessness she felt when she saw the girl handing a pot of plants to her.
She also thought that she would be given a cat, a dog or a pet.
Although this would make the owner seem irresponsible, Zhang Yiling still felt that it was more logical.
"I didn't expect that she would give me a pot of flowers, a pot of flowers that required me to take good care of it every day." Zhang Yiling shook her head. She thought she would never use such a plot when she made up her own stories, but she didn't expect it to actually happen to her.
However, after Zhou Yiyang heard this, he showed a completely different expression:
"Do you think she has recognized you?"
"Huh?" Zhang Yiling seemed to have completely lost track of Zhou Yiyang's thoughts. She grabbed her hair hard, as if trying to piece together these disorganized memories. "I don't understand."
"Have you forgotten that you used to be an actor?" Zhou Yiyang raised an eyebrow. He gave Zhang Yiling some hints, and then saw her expression begin to change. "Your movies are quite a few people in China who have seen them. In 'Léon: The Professional,' wasn't Leon carrying around a pot of flowers?"
This idea was something Zhang Yiling had never thought of. She had indeed forgotten that she was an actor before.
It wasn't that she wasn't paying attention while acting; it was simply that the movie was a bit distant in Zhang Yiling's memory. She also had a preconceived notion that her neighbors wouldn't be the type to watch that movie.
"Of course," Zhou Yiyang continued, "it could also be just a beautiful coincidence. In fact, she doesn't know you. She just simply raised a pot of flowers. When she left this city and went far away, she really didn't have the space to carry it with her."
Zhang Yiling finally laughed out loud: "Yeah, actually it's not important."
She still remembered what her neighbor said after she took the pot of flowers in a daze:
"If one day you don't want to keep it anymore and lose interest in it, just throw it away. But I think you'll be happier staying in a place like this every day and looking at it."
Zhang Yiling looked at the flowers that had not yet bloomed, but she believed what her neighbor had just said.
In this old, gloomy and noisy guesthouse, this pot of gorgeous flowers really has a unique charm.
It seemed to really bring in the spring from outside.
"I'll take good care of it," Zhang Yiling said seriously, even though she wasn't sure how much longer her patience would last. "By the way, are you going to work in another city?"
"Yes." The neighbor usually likes to wear heavy makeup, which not only covers her facial features but also blurs her age.
Sometimes Zhang Yiling would wonder if she was already in her thirties.
But now seeing her somewhat innocent and hopeful smile, Zhang Yiling thought that she should not be very old.
"Well, my classmates and friends are all out of town." The neighbor seemed to think it was inappropriate to chat at the door, so she simply waved to Zhang Yiling: "Come in and talk, my room may be a bit messy."
Zhang Yiling walked in. The room was not messy, but it was full of luggage.
She sat on the bed without hesitation, and the neighbor said with a smile:
"I've actually been wanting to leave for a long time. Beijing or Shanghai is so great! The income is high, and it's a big city."
"But those places are also very expensive!" Zhang Yiling said in a low voice.
The neighbor just smiled and didn't seem to care. "So what? I'll just find a job with room and board. You know, I've worked downstairs for two years and saved 30,000 yuan!"
Zhang Yiling thought she was pretty good, because she had read online that most young people nowadays couldn't save money, and it was good enough for them not to owe money.
"Then why didn't you go out earlier?" Zhang Yiling asked.
The neighbor's smile faded almost instantly. She sighed and patted the bed with her hands. "My old man was sick, and I had to stay here to take care of him. But last month, he was finally freed, and I'm free too."
Zhang Yiling seemed to want to say something to comfort the other person, but looking at her expression, it seemed that she did not need comfort.
"Am I cold-blooded?" the neighbor muttered to himself. "But there's nothing we can do. If he keeps dragging things on like this, our house will be empty. So I say, his passing is a relief for all of us. Alas, you probably can't understand people like us."
"How could that be?" Zhang Yiling was sure that her identity had never been exposed.
"The first time I saw you, I knew we were not the same kind of people." The neighbor took out a cigarette from her pocket and asked, "Want to smoke?"
Zhang Yiling shook her head. She looked at the woman shrouded in smoke and felt a strange feeling in her heart.
During her rebellious period before she met Zhou Yiyang, she did know a group of young people who were as rebellious as her.
But those people were completely different from the heavily made-up woman in front of him.
Their pain often comes from moaning without any real reason, or even from the pursuit of some kind of popularity.
But this woman's pain should be greater and deeper, but she hasn't given up on life yet.
Zhang Yiling could even see that she had found a habitat of her own in her broken life, and was living on with strength.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
