Chapter 333: The Second Floor of Grandfather’s House

The pitch-black sky showed no stars, only a moon shrouded in clouds and mist.

The city night seemed to have no starry sky to accompany it.

However, the city night was indeed much noisier than the small city.

Here, you could hear the roar of cars beyond the neighborhood fence, and from within the neighborhood came the constant din of voices—either someone’s family arguing, someone scolding their kids, or someone’s stereo blasting too loud…

Though she couldn’t make out the words, she could clearly sense that there were many residents here.

Being surrounded by such abundant human presence brought an extraordinary sense of security.

That night at her grandfather’s house, An Jing felt there might be another reason she couldn’t sleep—the surroundings were simply too quiet.

An Jing… really didn’t care much for quiet.

A not-so-cool evening breeze gently brushed her face, lifting a few strands of hair, and she kicked open the half-closed door with one foot, huffing and puffing as she tossed her bags of belongings inside.

This was the second floor of her grandfather’s standalone house.

Because there was only one bedroom, the living room space felt exceptionally large.

However, this upstairs living room was completely empty—not just lacking a TV, but even a sofa and coffee table were absent. Only a few cardboard boxes were stacked here, and judging by their appearance, they seemed untouched for a long time.

The room had been cleaned, but those cardboard boxes alone were covered in dust.

Actually, An Jing never understood why her father and mother insisted on renting a place outside. Her grandfather’s house wasn’t small at all—even if they didn’t use the downstairs bedroom, the upstairs bedroom was certainly more than enough to live in.

If the issue was discomfort living with an elderly person, that shouldn’t apply here.

At least An Jing felt her grandfather was kind and easy to talk to—even if there were any concerns, couldn’t they just head upstairs after work?

The second floor and first floor were separate; to come up, you had to use the outside staircase. Calling them two independent households wouldn’t be wrong at all.

Although her grandfather said that once two people got married, they should live independently.

But was that really true?

Were there truly elderly parents in this world who didn’t want their children living by their side?

Take An Jing’s grandfather, for example—he loved it when everyone came back to visit him. Otherwise, why would he have set up separate rooms for everyone? Wasn’t that just hoping everyone could stay longer at their hometown?

An Jing shook her head and redirected her thoughts to the luggage before her.

“I probably don’t need to take everything out… otherwise, I’ll have to repack everything when we move to the new house…” she muttered, glancing around. “I’ll put the suitcase with clothes in the room, and just leave the other stuff in the living room…”

The layout of the second floor was spacious. Besides a large living room, there was a bathroom even bigger than the one downstairs. Right next to the bathroom was her grandfather’s study, which contained a very old all-in-one computer—the kind where the keyboard, main unit, and monitor were all built into one piece.

When turned on, it didn’t have the kind of desktop interface modern computers had—just a green backlight, and you had to input code yourself to generate programs.

She remembered one time her grandfather typed in a long string of code and created a game where the graphics were all composed of various characters.

But that was a long time ago, and An Jing had long since forgotten what game she’d played back then.

Behind the study—that is, at the end of the room after passing a short hallway—was the second-floor bedroom.

This was also the room her mother had lived in as a child. At first glance, the furniture seemed sparse—just a neat square bed, a large wardrobe behind the door, a desk with a chair, and a bookshelf.

But actually, just like Nobita’s house in Doraemon, there was also a cupboard.

And the bookshelf was packed with all kinds of books.

There were textbooks her mother used as a child, as well as novels and essays she’d bought in her younger days.

Unlike her grandfather’s place, which was filled with world classics, these were mostly popular literature. An Jing didn’t recognize any of the authors’ names—at most, she felt the name “Haruki Murakami” looked slightly familiar.

Behind the cupboard were clothes her mother wore in her youth, along with some spare bedding and sheets.

Those had nothing to do with An Jing—she could just let them lie there quietly.

However… the desk was hers to organize.

Everything seemed to remain frozen in her mother’s student days. On the desk sat an old, worn pencil case, a notebook, and a bunch of scattered books.

An Jing opened the notebook and glanced through it—it was filled with all kinds of messy lines and short sentences.

It seemed like it was only used for jotting down temporary notes.

“Didn’t you come back during the New Year, Mom? Can’t you organize your own stuff? And you always used to scold me for not tidying up…” An Jing muttered quietly as she straightened up the items on the desk and stuffed them all into the nearby bookshelf.

As for what was originally supposed to go where, that wasn’t her problem anymore.

The wardrobe in the room was empty, so she opened her suitcase, took out two sets of her summer clothes, and hung them inside. She also dug out some undergarments and tucked them into the drawers, so she wouldn’t have to rummage through her suitcase every time she needed something. Then, she looked at the other bag she’d brought up.

Inside were the clothes her grandfather had bought her at the supermarket earlier—a loose sleep dress, some properly sized undergarments, two sets of formal outfits for going out, and a pair of lightweight, breathable sneakers. Blue ones.

Among all these, the shoes were probably what An Jing liked the most.

As for the rest… the sleep dress was a bit too pretty—covered in all sorts of lace trim, which was somewhat embarrassing for her.

But the formal outfits for going out were unexpectedly proper. Though they incorporated An Jing’s own small requests, her grandfather agreeing was the key part.

These two sets weren’t skirts, but women’s short-sleeved tops and pants.

Both were lightweight jeans—one pair of long pants, and the other a pair of shorts that exposed half her thighs.

But at least they were pants. Even if they were a bit short, An Jing felt she could accept them.

After all, no matter what, she didn’t have to worry about them being blown up by the wind like a skirt.

“Hmm… I’ll hang these up too, so they’re ready to wear later.” An Jing muttered as she hung them in the wardrobe, then placed the shoes by the door.

“The floor’s still a bit dusty. I’ll mop it in a bit, then I can walk in barefoot…” On the second floor, except for her grandfather’s study, there was no need to change shoes.

Every time An Jing came, she’d make her room as clean as her grandfather’s study, so naturally… she also had to change shoes when entering.

Of course, in the summer, she preferred going barefoot.

The painted cement floor felt cool to step on, unlike the wooden floor, which turned warm and cozy in the summer.

“Hey—Yinjin Courier! Open the door!”

A young man’s shout came from downstairs. An Jing only confirmed it was coming from below her grandfather’s house after hearing him yell a second time.

But this kind of matter didn’t require her concern—her grandfather was on the first floor anyway…

Sure enough, the sound of the door opening came from downstairs soon after.

“Although it’s a bit late, I appreciate your hard work.”

“It’s because my electric bike ran out of battery halfway!” the man cursed grumpily. “Please sign the receipt! What I’m delivering is… uh… let me check… traditional local-flavor pastries for elderly tastes… with an insulated ice box… is that right?”

“Yes, I commissioned an old friend to make them. Turns out he has to go out tomorrow and couldn’t make it today, so I had to ask someone to deliver them. Thank you.”

“No problem, I get paid for this. Go ahead and open it to check—if everything’s fine, I’ll be on my way.”

“Mm, let me take a look—no issues. Thanks a lot, young man.”

“Young man? Uh, alright then, I’m off! If you need anything, call our company for errands! Yinjin Courier, mission must be accomplished!”

“Grandfather bought pastries?” An Jing patted her already full little belly and lightly pursed her lips. “Whatever, I’ll eat them tomorrow. I’m too full today…”

“An Jing—wanna come down and have some pastries? They were just made today!”

“Grandfather—I’ll have them tomorrow—!” An Jing dragged out her words, then worried he couldn’t hear her from inside the room, hurried to the living room, pulled open the door, and called out to her grandfather standing by the stairs. “Tomorrow—!”

“Alright, are you going to sleep now? Did you take the milk upstairs?”

“Got a carton already! I’m going to take a shower now!”

“The solar water heater has hot water ready!”

“Okay—” An Jing dragged out her voice again, then slammed the door shut with a “thwack.” “I’ll just wash with cold water…”

In this heat, she didn’t want to wash with hot water.

She’d probably end up even hotter afterward.

In her memory, the only person who insisted on taking hot showers even in the summer was Minghui Yu.

Zhu Ying… she’d never mentioned whether she still used hot water to shower when the weather was hot.

An Jing glanced at the night outside the pale blue window, where hazy lights flickered, and stretched wide, extending her body with effort. “Mm! Time for a refreshing cold shower! Then milk! The computer… I’ll set up the computer tomorrow. If only it were a laptop—then I could put it out whenever I wanted. So much more convenient than a desktop…”

Although her grandfather’s bathroom was old, it was very tidy.

Closing the slightly paint-chipped green wooden door, An Jing walked a few steps forward and casually pulled open the bathroom window.

Even though it was clean, there was still a slightly damp, musty smell, so it was better to air it out.

As for whether someone might see her showering from outside the window…

An Jing probably hadn’t thought of that at all right now.

After all, back when she was a boy, such a thought would never have crossed her mind.

Not only showering with the window open—even hosing herself down at the front door with a garden hose wasn’t out of the question, though she’d been young back then.

Some subconscious habits just don’t change that quickly.

Then she walked back to the door, braced both hands on the sink, and stared blankly at herself in the mirror, unable to help murmuring softly: “A familiar yet strange face…”