Cheng Ye had spent three years singing folk songs in Chengdu. On the night he was fired, he returned to his rental on Yulin Road and found that the locks had been changed. A Chongqing girl in her pajamas, her hair still wet, opened the door and looked him up and down. "Who are you?" He smiled. "And who are you, beautiful?"
Her name was Su Wantang, and she became his new landlady. The first thing she did was raise the rent. Cheng Ye pulled out the contract and pointed to the third clause. "The rent doesn't go up when you renew. That's common sense." She frowned. "What'd you say?" He switched back to standard Mandarin. "It's common sense."
The two of them began a long tug-of-war in a shabby old apartment. She called him a fool, and he teased her for being fierce. She made hotpot that filled the place with chili fumes. He couldn't handle spicy food, but didn't say a word. He played guitar and wrote songs. She complained about the noise, then secretly listened.
Later, she mortgaged her apartment, and he put up the ten songs he'd written. Together, they opened a shop called "Wanye" on Fangcao Street. She handled the clothes, while he took care of the music. She set the direction, and he had her back. They argued every day, but neither of them left.
Then Chen Yu's betrayal, Su's father's illness, and a 300,000-yuan bet all came crashing down at once. For the first time, she softened her tone with him. "Cheng Ye, you're actually... pretty decent."
He smiled. "Can you compliment someone without adding a 'but'...? Forget it, you didn't add one this time."
The apartment sat empty for three years. Then she showed up at his door with a bowl of hotpot base and knocked.
"Do you eat spicy food?"
"Sure."
She scooped half the chili peppers into her own bowl.
