Chapter 6

（During the new book period, please give more recommendations）

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The closer one gets to one's hometown, the more timid one becomes.

Although this was not Wang Yong's true hometown, he had moved to Huahai City with his mother since junior high school and had lived here for six years. One could say this was his second hometown, his home.

It had been five years, a full five years since he had last returned home. But as soon as he stepped into the stairwell, his indomitable heart gave a sharp throb.

A sour feeling rushed to his nose and eyes. What was the point of coming home? Was this still home? Was this still the place where he and his mother had relied on each other, living a hard but simple and happy life?

Wang Yong, this was the name his mother had given him. She had told him more than once that her greatest hope in life was for her son to grow up safely, live a simple and happy life. She did not wish for him to be wealthy or famous. Only by being ordinary could one truly enjoy peace.

But he had never understood. He knew that as a man, even if he couldn't be a pillar of the sky, he should still make a name for himself. Only a life full of ups and downs, full of excitement, was worth living. How could a man be content with mediocrity? How could he be content with a simple life?

Now he understood his mother's wish, but it seemed too late, five years too late.

The inability to repay one's parents when they are gone is one of the greatest regrets in life. He had been back for half a month but had always stayed in a hotel, never daring to stay at home. Although he had buried his mother with his own hands five years ago, he had been deliberately deceiving himself, telling himself that his mother was still alive, living well at home. He was afraid, afraid that when he opened the door, he would find a dusty, empty house. Although he knew very well that this was an inevitable outcome.

It wasn't until yesterday, when he visited his mother's grave on Qingming Festival, that he truly let go of all his thoughts. He was ready to live a simple and ordinary life as his mother had always wished.

However, there was one thing, one thing he had to verify. This thing was like a fish bone stuck in his throat, and he wouldn't feel comfortable until it was removed.

Dragging his suitcase, his steps were heavy, as if two hundred-pound lead weights were tied to his ankles. But he walked with unusual determination, step by step, as if nothing could stop him from returning home. Even if the so-called home was now just for him.

The property management was still doing a good job, and the stairwell was very clean. The narrow stairwell lights turned on one by one as he walked, as if illuminating the path of his dark life, guiding him in the right direction.

Unconsciously, his hand gripped the doorknob, making his heart beat wildly. Although he knew his mother had been dead for five years, he still clung to a sliver of hope, a one-in-a-million chance. He hoped that everything that had happened over the years was just a nightmare, and when he opened the door, he would wake up from his dream. Then he would find that after the argument with his mother after high school, he had not stubbornly joined the military but had followed her wishes and entered university, now graduated for many years, with a stable, decent, and healthy job, allowing his mother to live a life without worrying about money.

His rough hand trembled slightly. He took the key from his neck, a key strung on a red string. The red string was clean but had many knots, though they were tied carefully. It was clear that the string was quite old and had broken many times.

The key was an old-fashioned brass key, which had been worn smooth and shiny from long-term close storage.

This was the key his mother had hung around his neck when she had bought this unit with great effort, telling him that from then on, this would be their home.

It had been more than a decade, but he still remembered clearly that his mother, who was only thirty-five at the time, had already shown signs of wrinkles and a few white hairs due to overwork and lack of care.

He remembered even more clearly how hard his mother had worked to support the family, how she had saved bit by bit to buy this unit. Even after buying the house, she continued to live frugally, saying that there would be many expenses in the future, such as university tuition and the cost of getting married.

However, when it came to his food, his mother was always generous. Milk was available all year round, and there was meat at every meal. She would stew a chicken every few days, but she never touched it, saying that one had to eat the whole chicken to get the nutrition.

At that time, he was not very mature and found his mother's nagging annoying, letting it go in one ear and out the other. But many things are only cherished after they are lost. Over the years, Wang Yong's greatest wish was to hear his mother nag at him again.

As he inserted the key into the lock, his usually resolute heart tightened. A sense of tension he hadn't felt in a long time arose. He tried twice, but the key wouldn't go in.

Suddenly, his somewhat scattered gaze sharpened. The old lock on the door had been replaced with a new, modern security lock.

A cold aura gradually rose from him, and his face darkened.

Teacher Zhao!

She was his mother's former colleague and neighbor in the same building. After handling his mother's funeral, Wang Yong had entrusted Teacher Zhao with taking care of this house, which contained his mother's countless efforts and hopes. Therefore, Wang Yong sent her money every year to maintain the house, with any extra money serving as her compensation.

Teacher Zhao, I hope you don't disappoint me. Wang Yong had deep feelings for this house and didn't want to think the worst. He hoped that Teacher Zhao had simply replaced the old lock because it wasn't working well. This was his mother's legacy and his home. He didn't want Teacher Zhao to be greedy and rent out the house for profit.

Instead of going downstairs to find Teacher Zhao, he found a piece of wire and a piece of wood nearby. After a few quick manipulations, the so-called modern security lock clicked open. As he entered, he saw a spotless home, almost unchanged from when he left.

But a chill ran through him. The lights were on, and there were a few suitcases by the sofa. On the coffee table were a bag of French bread and a box of milk. A white iPhone and a lady's leather purse were also there. Most importantly, the bathroom light was on, and the sound of running water could be heard, with a misty vapor seeping through the door crack.

If he had been his old, short-tempered self, he would have immediately rushed in, dragged the person out, and thrown them and their luggage onto the street. But now, he quietly closed the door, carefully checking the bedroom, kitchen, and balcony for any changes.

It seemed the house had been unoccupied for a long time, and the person had just arrived. Looking at the walls in the living room, he saw that the two framed photos of his parents were missing, which made his anger rise.

Thinking of his mother's frequent reminders to control his temper, he managed to hold back. This house was a place filled with countless memories and warmth. Especially when he was wandering outside, it was like a sanctuary for his soul.

He didn't want to show his bad side here, nor did he want his mother to be disappointed in him from beyond the grave.

He slowly sat on the sofa, his eyes cold and calm. Fortunately, the situation wasn't the worst, and there was still a chance to fix it. He glanced at the suitcases and purse, and the person in the bathroom was likely a woman.

But no matter who it was, he didn't want her to stay. His current limit of tolerance was to wait quietly for her to finish her bath and then ask her to leave. It would be like treating a guest to a bath.

Who knew, he waited for ten minutes, and the water was still running. If it weren't for the woman humming a pleasant tune, he would have thought she had died in there.

He hadn't eaten breakfast and had been wandering aimlessly all day, so he was almost starving. Seeing the bread and milk, he didn't hesitate to take them and start eating, thinking that the woman had wasted a lot of water and electricity. Eating her bread and milk would be a form of repayment.

She should be grateful that he didn't just barge in and throw her out.

The bread was delicious, and the milk was good, imported from New Zealand. This woman was quite extravagant. After devouring the entire bag, his stomach finally had something to settle. Wang Yong started thinking about where to go for a late-night snack after she left.

When the water finally stopped, he heard her moving around inside for about fifteen minutes before the bathroom door finally opened.

Ouyang Feifei was in a good mood. After a hot shower and applying some skincare products, she was about to start a new life. Although it might be tough and challenging, it would be a new experience. She was Ouyang Feifei, a confident, beautiful, and independent woman. No difficulty was insurmountable for her.

She habitually wrapped herself in a towel, revealing her smooth, white shoulders. Wearing slippers and humming a tune, she opened the bathroom door and walked into the living room. It was early April, and the weather was still a bit chilly, so she headed straight for her luggage. If the men and women at her company, who feared her like a tiger, saw her domestic side, they would be shocked.

But as she bent down, she suddenly felt a chill, as if being watched. She looked up and saw a man sitting on the sofa.

If one had to describe this man, he had a "lecherous" look in his eyes.

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