Chapter 68: Purchasing a House of Profound Significance

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Buying a House of Profound Significance

To spar in wit and courage with the future in-laws is a battle every “aspiring” son-in-law must endure. If the roles were reversed, it would likely become that legend: “Mother-in-law looks at the son-in-law— the more she looks, the more pleasing he seems!”

Alas, this was not destined for Zhang Le; he had to face such a battle and, moreover, emerge victorious if he wished to claim his beloved.

Zhang Le’s strategy was undoubtedly correct. The Yang family was always led by the patriarch, Yang Ke. If he could win over Yang Ke’s favor, with his support, Zhang Le would have the most solid backing.

This old soldier, who emerged from a mountain of corpses and seas of blood and dedicated his life to the nation and the people, could not bear to see his country fall short of others or witness cowardice.

If films were inferior to foreign ones, Zhang Le displayed remarkable talent in this field. Were he to change careers for Yang Xin’er, he would not win the old man’s approval, nor his support.

The wisdom of age is profound— how could Yang Ke not see through the little schemes of Zhang Le? He saw through Xin’er’s thoughts as well. The fact that both were moved by each other made him all the more satisfied with Zhang Le.

To yield, to flatter, to evade— in Yang Ke’s eyes, these were acts of the timid. To forge ahead, to face challenges boldly— that was what a man ought to do.

As for the art of health preservation, Wudang’s methods, rooted in Daoist tradition, were naturally more adept than those of the Chan Buddhist Shaolin. Zhang Le and Yang Ke practiced push-hands, discussed health, sparred with Wei Minghua, and exchanged techniques; time passed swiftly.

They did not stay overnight; after dinner, they took their leave.

“Did your family agree?”

Zhang Le looked at Yang Xin’er with anticipation. He could read something from her expression, but his anxious heart needed a definite answer.

“Not bad, you’re quite impressive,” Yang Xin’er patted his shoulder with a smile. “You actually knew to win favor through my grandfather. Once he nodded, my parents naturally wouldn’t— or rather, wouldn’t dare— oppose us. But, don’t get complacent. The revolution is not yet complete; comrades must keep striving. Young man, I have high hopes for you!”

“Guaranteed to accomplish the mission! I ask the commander for guidance!” Zhang Le stood at attention and saluted seriously.

“Ah!”

Yang Xin’er was in excellent spirits and just about to revel, when Zhang Le suddenly swept her up and pressed her onto the sofa.

Their eyes met, a gentle affection flowing between them. Each wore a sweet smile; feelings blossomed in their gaze...

“Take a shower first, you smell awful!” Yang Xin’er said.

“Together?” Zhang Le replied.

“Carry me!” said Yang Xin’er.

Those two words, though not direct, spoke for themselves. The rest of the process faded into privacy...

Now, the mornings no longer found Zhang Le rising quietly alone— to run, practice, cook, and wait for Yang Xin’er to awaken.

Early morning runs and a session of martial arts were no longer only Zhang Le’s habit. Yang Xin’er had joined in.

Running and practicing together brought Zhang Le even more joy.

“Ninety degrees to our right?”

Running through the nearby park, Zhang Le suddenly spoke to Yang Xin’er beside him.

“Hm?” Yang Xin’er looked over, puzzled, then frowned and said, “Those people are everywhere. Should we consider moving? Running here in the apartment is fine, but practicing martial arts always gets interrupted. The apartment’s too small, there’s nowhere to train. I don’t want to see you practicing on the balcony railings anymore.”

“Move? That’s worth considering.” Zhang Le nodded.

Yang Xin’er’s apartment was a studio; after Zhang Le moved in, their closeness didn’t feel crowded, but there was no space to practice. Before, Zhang Le practiced alone on the balcony rail; now that Yang Xin’er had joined, that was no longer possible.

Of late, they ran and practiced in the nearby park.

Running was exercise, and in the morning the park was mostly filled with elderly people; few young folks. Zhang Le and Yang Xin’er were popular and well-known, but only among the younger crowd. Even if the older folks recognized them, they didn’t have the fervor of youth for chasing celebrities. They wouldn’t stop them for autographs or photos.

Running was rarely interrupted. As for martial arts, they could find a secluded spot and manage. But both were public figures, and occasionally sneaking a day or two by unnoticed was possible. Over time, however, they inevitably attracted the attention of media and gossip reporters.

Once word spread, there would be no peace for their training.

“Consider? What’s there to consider?” Yang Xin’er asked, curious.

“What kind do you want? Where do you want it?” Zhang Le smiled. “These are things to think about, aren’t they?”

“That sounds better!” Yang Xin’er glanced at Zhang Le, as if she could see through his thoughts. She continued, “Are you planning to wait until the income from ‘Crazy Stone’ comes in before buying?”

“Exactly! If we’re buying, let’s get something good!” Zhang Le smiled. “We’ll buy this place as our new home!”

“If we’re buying, it should be a new house— not secondhand...” Yang Xin’er began, then caught herself, looked at Zhang Le, cheeks flushing, nodded, and said no more.

The difference between “new house” and “new home” is subtle in words, but vast in meaning.

In truth, Yang Xin’er asked because she guessed Zhang Le’s reasoning.

If they bought now, the money would come from Yang Xin’er, since Zhang Le had very little. His savings in the capital could barely buy a restroom.

But if they used the profits from “Crazy Stone” to buy a home— whether the money belonged to Yang Xin’er or Zhang Le— it was undeniable that Zhang Le had earned it.

Zhang Le did not want to use Yang Xin’er’s money. No matter how strong their feelings, as a man— and somewhat old-fashioned at that— he could never forgive himself for using a woman’s money. Living in a home bought with her money would always leave a knot in his heart.

Yang Xin’er understood, but she asked just to let him know: her money was his, too. Between them, there was no need to distinguish.

Yours is mine, mine is yours— everything is ours.

A new home, naturally, meant a house for a new marriage. If bought with the profits from “Crazy Stone,” that would be truly meaningful. So Yang Xin’er acquiesced and let it go.

“Crazy Stone” was Zhang Le’s first film; its significance to him was profound. It was also the first film Yang Xin’er invested in and produced— a milestone for her as well. The film was the inaugural project of their studio— Xinle Film Studio— giving it yet another layer of meaning for them both.

To buy a new home with the film’s profits made the house all the more significant.

When they returned to the apartment from the park, Zhang Le went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Yang Xin’er indulged in the thing women love most— dressing up.

Together, the cooking fell entirely to Zhang Le. He did it willingly, not to win her heart through her stomach, but simply because love made anything possible.

When love is deep, anything is worth doing— especially cooking!

Yang Xin’er had considered learning to cook, but lacked talent; after several chaotic attempts that left the kitchen in shambles, she gave up.