I Livestream in the Zhou Dynasty

I laughed a little.

"I owe you. I owe you six hundred."

The landlady was pounding on the door outside.

"Lin Daiyu! Six hundred yuan! If you don't pay today, get your things out of here tomorrow!"

I pulled my headphones down a little and lowered my voice. "Hang on a moment, everyone. I'm going to open the door."

I turned off the camera, went to the door, and opened it a crack.

Auntie Wang stood outside, wearing one slipper, with her other foot on the step. She held an enamel mug of cold tea.

"Auntie Wang."

"Don't call me Auntie Wang," she said. "You've been calling me that for three years, and it hasn't gotten me a single extra cent."

"By the end of this month."

"Last month, you said you'd pay at the beginning of this month."

I opened the door a little wider so she could see inside.

A twelve-square-meter room: a bed, a table, a ring light, three boxes of sweet potato noodles, two boxes of lotus root starch, and a box of returned goods.

"Auntie Wang, look at this room," I said. "If I had money, the first thing I'd do is get rid of that box of returns. It's taking up space, and I still have to pay rent for it."

She stared for two seconds.

"What's that got to do with me?" she said.

"It has everything to do with you," I said. "If I move out, who will you rent this place to? Who else would rent somewhere like this?"

She said nothing.

There was a whole row of single-story houses on the old town's back street, and fewer than five had their lights on at night. Two years ago, three milk tea shops opened. Two went under. The last one sold seven cups a day, three of which the owner drank herself.

"The end of the month," she said. "If you still haven't paid by then, I'll really kick you out."

"Okay."

She left.

I closed the door and went back in front of the camera.