Following the exterior stairs, Wang Qiqi ambled slowly to the doorway of the attic apartment. Qiqi had initially found the surroundings pleasant—lush green lawns and towering trees—but the terrace she’d just seen left a sour impression. Despite having a glass awning, it wasn't fully enclosed. Fine rain would be manageable, but heavy downpours would leave it completely exposed. Qiqi wondered why they hadn't enclosed the staircase, but then again, it wasn't her house; what right did she have to complain? Moreover, if it counted as an emergency exit, then enclosing it would be impossible anyway.

Han Tao produced the key the landlord, Mark, had given him and unlocked the attic. Qiqi had half expected to find some cleaning needed inside, but the space was immaculate. Upon entering, there was a compact kitchen integrated with a dining area and living room. It wasn't huge, but the decor was cozy, immediately exuding a homey atmosphere. The only thing missing, Qiqi thought, was a fireplace. In winter, sitting by the hearth, reading while basking in the sun, would have been idyllic. But seeing the surrounding wooden furniture, Qiqi knew installing one was an absolute impossibility; safety came first.

Beside the sofa stood a row of bookshelves, and to Qiqi’s surprise, they held actual books. “Wow, this landlord is really great. He provides furniture and appliances, and even books.”

“Some of those are mine,” Han Tao said, walking over to the shelf. He noticed, without surprise, that the books he hadn't taken with him on his last departure were all right there.

Han Tao’s books? Qiqi moved to the bookshelf by the sofa. “Which of these are yours?” Although she asked him, Qiqi suspected Han Tao’s collection would lean toward computer science texts. She casually picked up a few related to computing and was pleased to find two of them were her man’s own notebooks. However, several others had writing in them, though it was in English. Perhaps the previous tenant was also in IT, Qiqi mused. Silicon Valley truly lived up to its name—surrounded by tech companies, even the last tenant must have been in computing.

“Mark and the others don't rely on rent for their living. Actually, very few people around here rent out properties,” Han Tao explained. He had initially assumed many residents commuted to various tech companies like he did, seeing the cars leave the community daily. It was only later, chatting with Jone, that he learned this neighborhood was legendary as an affluent district; they certainly didn't depend on meager rental income. To put it frankly, if not for Mark and Jone’s connection, Han Tao wouldn't have stood a chance of renting here. “This is Jone’s parents’ house.”

Qiqi had been wondering how her man got so lucky to stay here twice without relying on rent. To learn it was Jone’s parents’ home was surprising. “Oh, Jone is such a thoughtful person.” In Qiqi’s view, foreigners weren't usually this helpful. Moreover, their connection seemed to have blossomed from a chance meeting on a plane, bonding over shared specialties, but it didn’t quite seem enough for such significant assistance.

Han Tao nodded. “Jone is a good person. It was just that last time when I couldn't find a place, Jone helped out. But he also mentioned that whether I could stay long-term depended on me.” The parent-child dynamics among Westerners were definitely different from back home. Jone lived relatively close to his parents, yet they might see each other only a few times a year, often meeting outside for meals to maintain personal space. “Then, I performed well, and I kept the place quite tidy.” Han Tao omitted that he occasionally spent downtime chatting with the older couple. Though they claimed not to be lonely, as they aged, having someone to converse with was something Mark and his wife genuinely enjoyed.

Qiqi finally understood the ease of the arrangement. “I initially thought the rent was a bit steep, but now I realize it’s quite a good deal.” After all, Han Tao had secured the entire attic for the year by only paying three months' deposit.

Impatient to see the space she’d inhabit for the next two months, Qiqi pushed open a door, revealing the bathroom. Crammed with a toilet and a bathtub, it felt small, but what struck Qiqi as odd was the absence of a washing machine. Had they placed it in the kitchen?

Han Tao, needing the restroom himself, saw Qiqi peering in. “What are you looking for?” There was nothing notable in the bathroom at the moment. “Right, we’ll go shopping with Mark later. There’s so much we need to buy now that you’re here.”

Qiqi murmured, “Where’s the washing machine? You don’t dry-clean your winter clothes, do you?” That would be too extravagant.

Realizing she was hunting for the laundry machine, Han Tao pointed toward the terrace visible through the bathroom window. “The washer is outside. You can hang your clothes there too, but you’ll need to screen the area off; it might look a bit unsightly if people see them.” Westerners favor dryers; very few air-dry clothes. Han Tao, however, disliked the alternative, always feeling that clothes not touched by the sun were inherently uncomfortable to wear.

Qiqi acknowledged this with a soft sound, indicating she understood. Still, having a large terrace made her quite happy. She’d been wondering why the attic felt smaller than the house appeared from the outside. Even though the view of the terrace through the bathroom window showed it wasn't vast, it was still a private space, wasn't it?

After inspecting the bathroom, Qiqi opened the next door to find the bedroom. It was modest: a queen-sized bed, a wardrobe against one wall, and a full-length glass door opposite the bed leading to the terrace. This gave Qiqi a strong premonition that the room would be stiflingly hot in the summer, requiring the air conditioning to run constantly—she could already foresee the electricity bill soaring. “It’s simple, certainly, but the price is steep. By the way, why doesn't the living room have a door to the terrace? What if we invite guests over in the future?” In Qiqi’s mind, when Han Tao lived alone, hosting colleagues wasn't a big deal, but now that she was here, some gesture should be made.

“Foreigners don't really focus on that sort of thing. Don't worry, your man relies on competence.” Han Tao understood Qiqi’s concern about his standing at work. Truthfully, the US was quite exclusionary; unless you possessed significant ability, and given that everyone was in a demanding technical field, people simply lacked the time or energy for petty discrimination. “To the boss, anyone who helps him make money is a good employee.”

Qiqi thought her man had a point—it was better to cause fewer troubles. “That saves me effort too. Say, is the supermarket far from here? If it is, I might buy a bicycle so it’s easier to get around when I run errands.”

“It’s about a twenty-minute walk to the main area. Why don't we buy a bicycle today? That would make it easier for you to shop. Though, what we really need is a car.” There were too many items to source through personal shopping; a bicycle wouldn't suffice. But driving required a license, and Han Tao wasn't sure if Qiqi was in a position to take the exam now.

“It’s fine. I can ask Shi Man to help with the purchasing.” Qiqi remembered Shi Man was around, though she wasn't sure how much US currency Shi Man had on hand. “In a few days, once Shi Man and the others are settled, I’ll go see them.” This also presented an opportunity to finally embark on the cross-America trip Qiqi had long dreamed of. With only two months, she doubted she could see much, perhaps just settling into one place at a time.

Han Tao watched Qiqi leaning against the glass door, gazing out at the terrace with a soft smile, detailing her upcoming plans. He walked up and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I…” Han Tao desperately wanted to express his regret at not being able to travel with her the entire time. Even though Feng Xuanxiang was there, he knew that would only make Qiqi feel worse—having a boyfriend, Shi Man’s boyfriend could accompany her, while he was stuck here earning money, unable to join her in doing what she wanted.

Qiqi covered Han Tao’s mouth. “Don’t say sorry. Actually, I should thank you. Because of you, I can be in the US. Your mission is to work hard and earn more…” Qiqi knew Han Tao was destined to stay and work; his industry wouldn't allow him to be away for long. She needed to adapt to his intense work schedule, just as Han Tao needed to learn to love a wife who wasn't perfectly demure and devoted to housekeeping. “And I might travel around more often in the future.” Qiqi felt a flush of embarrassment when she said this. Luo Hongjuan had envisioned Qiqi going abroad to look after Han Tao. Qiqi couldn't bear to imagine what his mother would think if she knew her future daughter-in-law planned to be a wanderer. Would she regret ever wanting Han Tao to marry her?

Han Tao patted Qiqi’s back. “I know, I know. Alright, let’s see what we need to stock up on at home. Even though they’ll bring over groceries, Qiqi, I think we can…” Although this was technically a welcome dinner for him, it was also the perfect opportunity to introduce Qiqi to them, and good food was the best way to break the ice. “I know. I’ll cook a few Chinese dishes. But their palates…” Qiqi wasn't entirely sure. She’d heard that Chinese food abroad was all modified. Would her authentic home-style cooking be met with disdain?

“No problem, no problem,” Han Tao reassured her. “We want to show them what real Chinese food tastes like. Once, they…” Han Tao recalled a time Jone took him out for Chinese food that was supposedly excellent. The taste was far inferior to his own cooking, let alone a comparison with Qiqi’s or his mother’s. As for Qiqi's worries, in Han Tao’s eyes, they weren't an issue at all; it was simply about letting these foreigners see how truly unappetizing the so-called authentic Chinese food they usually ate was.