After several shots, Yan Huan had completed her scenes. She was allowed to go home and rest before her final shooting, then she could start working another job.
“Let’s go,” Yi Ling said as she carried Yan Huan’s belongings. She was counting on her fingers, figuring out when she could eat next. What shall we have for dinner when we get home?
Yan Huan turned her head, looking at Qi Haolin and Su Qiao who were shooting on their rival show.
Such was life.
If she was Hong Yao, if she was in this situation, there would be nothing to be compared with a rich woman who was high-born and well-bred, as the world was unfair.
But there were still a lot of people who wanted to live even though life was not fair.
Life, whether it was good or bad, had to be lived.
At the mercy of fate, would Qingqiu still be the last choice of Jiang Chao?
It was almost 7pm when Yan Huan got back to their new apartment.
“I’m going to go buy some food,” she said, grabbing her purse.
“I can go!” Yi Ling insisted, rolling up her sleeves and ready to go out. She felt she must do it as buying food was heavy and hard work.
“No, I’ll go.” Yan Huan opened the door. “I know where I can go to buy the good food, I’m afraid of the food you might buy.”
Yi Ling curled her lips, she wasn’t that bad.
Yan Huan went out in the end, Yi Ling stayed home to mind the house and bathe Little Bean. Little Bean was a well-behaved cat, she would eat the food that had been given to her and she didn’t scratch things, but sometimes she misbehaved. Perhaps cats were born to be afraid of water, for Little Bean hated taking baths and the house would fill with her piteous meowing every time.
Yi Ling was stubborn and slightly obsessed with cleanliness, she didn’t hate keeping a pet, and she liked Little Bean the most, but the deal was Little Bean had to be bathed twice a week. They didn’t want her smelly and shedding fur.
Yan Huan didn’t know the fuss that was going on at home. She went to the market and bought a lot of food to cook at home. She felt dizzy suddenly, leaning against a wall for a long time, but then she felt better.
She forced a smile, it wasn’t easy to build up her health.
Pulling up her sleeve, she wondered if she hadn’t taken good care of herself, for there was a large bruise in the middle of her arm.
She pulled down her sleeve again and bit her red lips; the bruise hurt.
Yan Huan, fighting, this new life is just beginning.
She carried the bag home, walked into the elevator, and was about to close the doors, when a tall man walked in.
“What floor are you?”
She was really surprised to see the man as there were not many people living here. She heard that this apartment had some affiliation with the military region, thus, there were very few people living here and it was quiet.
“Thirteenth floor. Thank you.”
The man had a low voice, like the most pleasant harmony played by a cello. It wasn’t hoarse but instead deep, like a fermented red wine, it was low-key but also luxurious.
