It's just that they have money.

Fang Chen was talking to Zhang Wen when his phone rang.

"Answer the phone."

"Chenchen! Have you asked about the house yet? The designer said the design was completed a long time ago, but you haven't given me any feedback, so they don't dare to start construction!"

My mother's voice came through the receiver, strong and clear.

Fang Chen subconsciously moved his phone away from his ear, but it was too late. He glanced at Zhang Wen sitting opposite him—Zhang Wen was holding a water glass, his lips twitching slightly, his gaze drifting out the window, pretending he hadn't heard anything.

"Mom, I'm outside. I'll talk to you later."

"What's wrong with being out? Can't we talk about serious things outside? I'm asking you, the designer sent us the kitchen plans, and your dad thinks the stove's location is wrong—it faces the door, which is bad feng shui. Find someone to change it!"

"Okay, okay, we'll change it."

"Don't just say you'll do it, when are you actually coming back? Your dad's been nagging you every day these past few days, saying that now that you have money, you're never home..."

"Mom, I understand. I'll be back in a couple of days. I'll hang up now."

Fang Chen hung up the phone and placed it face down on the table.

"My mom."

"I can tell." Zhang Wen finally glanced at him, his face conveying an expression that said, "I understand, but I won't laugh at you." "Are you urging me to go home?"

"The house in my hometown needs to be renovated." Fang Chen didn't explain further.

The soup was still simmering in the kitchen, the bubbling sound coming from the stove, mixed with the silence of the two people.

"Your mom's voice is exactly the same as my mom's back then."

"Back then, I was working at a hotel. My mom would call me every few days, asking when I was coming back, your dad's back was killing him, and you weren't even taking care of him? The neighbor's son got a new car, and you're still driving your beat-up car?"

Zhang Wen smiled as he said this, not a bitter smile, but the kind of warm smile that he would find amusing many years later.

"And then?" Fang Chen asked.

"Later, I brought her to Jiangcheng to stay for a while, about half a month, but she said she couldn't get used to it and went back." Zhang Wen stood up, walked to the kitchen door, glanced at the soup on the stove, turned the heat down a bit, and then came back to sit down. "That's how old people are. When you're away, she nags. When you bring her here, she can't stay. What can you do? There's no other way but to run back and forth."

Zhang Wen added, "But your situation is different from mine back then. You were being nagged, while I was being pressured to get married. Your mom was just urging you to come home, while my mom was urging me to bring someone home with me."

Fang Chen didn't respond, feeling that he shouldn't have come today.

He picked up his water glass, took a sip, put it down, and glanced at his phone. No new messages. No calls to rescue him from here.

"Where is your villa located?" Zhang Wen asked.

"The hard furnishings are almost finished, but the soft furnishings haven't even started yet."

"How much longer?"

"It'll be a month or two, at most two months."

Zhang Wen nodded.

"What about your house back in your hometown?"

"It hasn't been demolished yet."

Zhang Wen glanced at him, and the corners of his mouth curved up again.

"You didn't get to stay at either end?"

"I didn't get to stay at either end."

Zhang Wen finally smiled.

It wasn't the kind of loud, hearty laughter, but the kind of smile that showed you how hard you'd been through. The wrinkles around your eyes were gathered together, the smile wasn't big, but it was genuine.

Fang Chen also laughed, but it was a helpless laugh.

"You," Zhang Wen picked up his water glass, held it to his lips but didn't drink, "bought a villa in Jiangcheng, built a house in your hometown, started a farm stay at a blueberry farm, signed actors for your film company, and expanded your medical company overseas. After all that work, where do you live?"

"Renting a room".

"Sigh."

After Fang Chen finished eating, he stood up and said, "I'm leaving now. You can take your time thinking about the menu. There's no rush."

"I send you."

He got into the car and started the engine. As the car drove out of the alley, he rolled down the window, and the night breeze blew in, warm but not cold against his face.

He texted Ivy from his car: "Could the design of the building in my hometown be modified?"

Ivy's reply came quickly, in her usual unadorned tone.

"I won't do the architectural design, as I told you before. I can't do the interior design until the civil engineering work starts. You just build the house first, and I'll come in once it's finished. Also, the hard decoration of your villa is almost complete, and I can help you oversee the soft decoration."

She's right.

Interior design requires the house to exist. Since the house in her hometown hadn't been demolished yet and the foundation hadn't been dug, she really couldn't start designing it.

When are you coming to check out the materials for your villa's interior design? If you don't come soon, I'll order them for you.

Fang Chen thought for a moment and typed: "You can decide, no need to ask me. Send me the photos to take a look."

Ivy sent a question mark.

Are you sure?

"Sure."

"Okay. I'll take it. Don't say you don't like it later."

Fang Chen did not reply.

He knew Ivy's taste; he would most likely not dislike anything she chose.

Fang Chen placed his phone on the passenger seat, started the car, and was about to shift gears when his phone vibrated again.

It's still Mom.

"I forgot to tell you about the house demolition. Your dad had someone choose an auspicious date, the eighth day of next month. You need to come back then."

Fang Chen paused for a moment while gripping the steering wheel.

"The eighth day of next month? So soon?"

We'll have to move before we can demolish the house. The villa here isn't finished yet, so we can't just rent another place for my parents, can we?

"This is the only auspicious day; other times are not suitable."

There was nothing Fang Chen could do; his parents were particular about these things, so he couldn't say much.

"Come and transfer here."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Fang Chen heard Xiang Pingping whispering to her father. Their voices were very low, and he couldn't hear what they were saying, but it sounded like they were discussing what to bring.

My dad's voice came through the receiver again, muffled.

"Isn't your house rented? How big is it?"

"Over 140 square meters. Three bedrooms."

Dad fell silent again. This time, the silence lasted shorter than before.

"Okay," he said.

Fang Chen gripped the steering wheel, momentarily stunned. He thought his father would say a few more things about whether he could get used to living there, but his father didn't.

"I'll go back a day early, on the seventh day of the lunar new year, to help you pack."

"You don't need to pack. Your dad said he can do it himself." Xiang Pingping paused, "You only need to come back alone."

"it is good."

After hanging up the phone, Fang Chen felt a pang of emotion.

My parents either live in their hometown or work in other places, renting a dilapidated house in an urban village. They have never really experienced life in a big city.

He remembered many things.

When he was a child, his father would take him to school on his bicycle. He would sit on the back seat, holding onto his father's clothes with both hands.

In winter, my dad's cotton-padded coat would billow in the wind, like a sail.

He huddled behind the sail, where he felt no wind.

The man on the bicycle will soon be coming to Jiangcheng in the car he gave him.