My 27-Year-Old Landlady

Jiang Xun, a documentary filmmaker, lost everything overnight:

His girlfriend married someone else, his brother ran off, his grandfather passed away, and he was left with a debt of over a million yuan.

His only remaining asset was an old Western-style house in Hangzhou inherited from his grandfather, but it came with a tenant who refused to leave.

Chu Ran was 27, proud, stubborn, and exceptionally skilled at her work.

She was a rich heiress, but refused to take over the family business, choosing instead to work on restoring old buildings in a historic alley.

She had a valid five-year lease, so I had no right to sell the house.

Since I couldn’t get her to leave, we’d have to live together.

A three-page cohabitation agreement laid out our boundaries. We’d mind our own business and stay out of each other’s way.

But I never expected that this prickly woman would pay one hundred thousand yuan on my behalf when my creditors came knocking;

that after I made a stunning short film about her designs, she would tell me earnestly, “You’re the best photographer I’ve ever met”;

or that when her father used every connection he had to crush me, she would clasp my hand and say, “Even if we lose everything, I still want to be with you.”

Later, I was forced to say the cruelest things to break up with her, and she left for England, heartbroken.

Three years later, her name appeared on the shortlist for an international architecture and design award.

Meanwhile, the film I directed, A City in the Alleys, was nominated for one of the country’s top film festivals.

We passed each other backstage at the awards ceremony.

She stopped and said softly,

“Jiang Xun, it’s been a long time. Your documentary was wonderful.”

In that moment, I knew that this time, no one would ever tear us apart again.

Finding Your Way in the City | A Comeback Story | Pursuing Dreams and Love Together