Chapter 2

I wake up to the sound of the alarm on my phone, its persistent beeping pulling me from a restless sleep. It's 6 o'clock. I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes, and take a moment to gather my thoughts. The room is still dim, the early morning light just beginning to come through the curtains.

I get out of bed and went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth, which helped me shake off the remaining sleep in my eyes. Just then, my stomach started growling out of starvation from last night.

After a few minutes of searching in the kitchen, I find a pot and a plate kept inside it. I take them out and wash them thoroughly, ensuring they're clean and ready for use. 

Opening the refrigerator, I'm met with a blast of cold air and melancholic emptiness inside it. "What else did I expect," I mutter to myself, feeling disappointed.

Slipping my feet into a pair of worn-out slippers, I decide to head out to buy groceries. I grab my wallet and keys, and step outside. The morning air is cool and refreshing, different from what I had been breathing in the city. 

As I walk through the streets of Xinyuan, the town slowly wakes up. The market is already starting its activity. The scent of freshly baked bread and the sound of people greeting each other fill the air, creating a lively and welcoming atmosphere.

The first shop that attracts me to stop by, is street vendor selling white steamed bread with red beans paste fillings. My mouth waters, just looking at it from afar. I approach the vendor, a young man and buy a few. I am greeted by him warmly with a smile, "Do you live here, sir? Never seen you around."

I put on a forced smile, and reply, "Yeah, I have just moved here."

"Ah, I see? with your family?" the vendor asks.

I suddenly feel short of words in my mouth and take long pause before speaking, "No, it's just me."

He may have seen me as a pitiful alone man, that he just stands there nodding and wrapping the bread in a paper bag, with impressive articulate hand movements. 

I make my way through the market, picking up essentials: eggs, milk, bread, vegetables, and some meat. The vendors are friendly, offering smiles and small talk. Their warmth makes me feel strangely uncomfortable around them, as I am used to of expressionless greetings and fake smiles in the Shanghai streets.

With my bag full of groceries, I head back to my apartment. The walk back gives me time to reflect on the changes in my life and the new beginnings this town might offer. I reached home and made haste to cook myself a simple breakfast, as I didn't want to be late on the first day of my work. 

Back in the kitchen, I unpack the groceries and start preparing breakfast. As the smell of cooking fills the apartment, I feel a sense of normalcy returning. Maybe, just maybe, this place will become a home, a place where I can find peace and purpose.

After taking care of my growling stomach, I hurriedly put on my formals, a white shirt and brown pants, putting on a fairly new dark brown jacket, maybe I am being overly concerned with my attire, it being my first day. 

I turn on the T.V for some news updates, while I sat on the sofa, putting on a pair of socks and wearing shoes. And the face that I see, the instant the T.V turns on, is my ex-wife's. Popular News Anchor, Jenny. She is as graceful as ever and has immaculate facial features that appear to be an artwork of a legend, when she speaks with her confident eyes. 

But I couldn't let myself delve back into the past which I have been trying to overcome. I turned off the T.V and took off for my workplace, after locking the main door. 

As I descended the staircase, I got a glimpse on my landlords.

I come across an old lady who is taking a slow stroll, gently pushing a wheelchair. Her face is etched with deep lines, evidence of a lifetime of worries and responsibilities. Her eyes, though kind, reveal a profound sadness and a lack of sleep, underscored by the dark circles beneath them, her silver hair neatly tied back in a bun, and she moves with a careful grace.

Seated in the wheelchair is her husband, his body partially paralyzed. His face is a mask of quiet resignation, yet his eyes flicker with a hint of longing and curiosity as they meet mine. His thin frame is swathed in a warm blanket, and his hands rest motionless on his lap. His expression is calm, though there's a hint of melancholy in the way he gazes into the distance, perhaps lost in memories of better days.

"Good morning," I say softly, offering a polite nod. The old lady looks up and gives a single, almost imperceptible nod in return, her gaze distant.

Silence hangs heavy in the air as I walk past them, uncomfortably. It's clear she's not in the mood for small talks. With a slight sense of awkwardness, I quickly mumble a goodbye and continue on my way, leaving them to their quiet stroll.

As I step out into the bustling streets of Xinyuan, I can't shake the feeling of the encounter. There's a sadness in the old lady's eyes that lingers with me; pity, of course, but her eyes gave me that she doesn't want this world to pity her. 

The encounter with my landlords weighs on my mind as I navigate the streets of Xinyuan. Despite the cheerful atmosphere around me, their silent struggle casts a shadow over my thoughts. It's a powerful reminder of the complexities hidden behind the facade of everyday life.