Chapter 22: Caught
As the saying goes, you can escape the first fifteen, but not the fifteenth.
There’s another saying: You can run away from the monk, but you can’t run away from the temple.
Mu Mu and Zheng An perfectly fit the conditions of both sayings. The landlord was determined to get them, and no matter how early they left and late they returned, there would eventually be a day they were caught.
That day, neither far nor near, was four days later, and the one caught by the landlord was Zheng An.
That day, Mu Mu had been out all day, still unable to find a job that would hire him. In the past, even if his mood was low, he would still summon his spirit to find the next job.
But at that moment, he didn’t know what came over him; he only wanted to go home and didn’t want to try finding another job.
Mu Mu hesitated at the public transit station for a long time, missing two flights before finally deciding to take the next one home.
When he arrived home, Zheng An hadn’t finished work yet. Having nothing to do, he cleaned the apartment thoroughly.
When he finished, seeing that he still had some time, he did something inexplicable: he went to his room and pulled out a small, worn leather suitcase from under the bed. The corners were chipped, the surface scratched, but it was still clean.
Mu Mu neatly folded all the clothes from the closet and put them in the suitcase. After thinking for a moment, he added the clothes and backpack from the coat rack by the door.
Much later, during a casual conversation when Zheng An visited Mu Mu, they inadvertently mentioned that day.
Zheng An marveled at Mu Mu’s foresight, knowing to pack his clothes in advance, unlike him, who usually left his belongings scattered all over the room.
The landlord didn’t throw away all of Zheng An’s things, probably having secretly kept many of his valuables.
Mu Mu just chuckled foolishly, without answering.
He actually didn’t know how to answer. He also found his sudden urge to pack that day strange.
Perhaps, it was his animal-like sixth sense, accurately predicting danger.
But those were things from much later. Back to the present. Although Mu Mu had lived in this apartment for a long time, his personal belongings were few.
The seasons on Liuli Star weren’t distinct. Three-quarters of the year was summer, the heat blurring the lines between spring and autumn. The remaining winter wasn’t very cold, more like autumn.
Because of this climate, Mu Mu didn’t have many clothes. All his clothes barely filled half the suitcase, leaving the other half for his other belongings.
At this point, Mu Mu hesitated, wondering whether he should pack everything.
He sat beside the suitcase, surveying the small bedroom, picking up a star-shaped nightlight that rested on the clothes, idly turning it in his hand.
Should he really move?
Mu Mu had feelings for this small apartment he had lived in for a long time. If he could, he really didn’t want to move out.
He even harbored a faint hope of sitting down with the landlord to negotiate, hoping he would raise the rent only slightly, so they could continue renting.
The star-shaped light flickered on and off. Mu Mu sighed heavily, putting the nightlight back in the suitcase. Then, inexplicably, he added his favorite small milk-velvet blanket with a cute border collie pattern.
Mu Mu closed the suitcase, rubbing his hands along the surface. Under his palm were rough scratches and the texture of the suitcase itself. Only then did he feel the weight lift from his heart.
He got up, picked up the bath towel draped over the chair back, intending to take a shower. As he left the room, he heard a “bang bang bang!” knocking on the door.
He abruptly stopped, his face turning pale, his expression terrified as he stared at the closed door, his hands clutching the towel tightly. It was as if he wasn’t facing an ordinary door, but an old, loose gate holding back a flood of ferocious beasts.
Mu Mu had developed some PTSD from the thunderous knocking these past few days. The first thing that came to his mind when he heard the knocking was that the landlord was back, no wonder he was so scared.
After a few minutes, the knocking, which seemed to be about to break the door down, finally stopped.
Mu Mu’s heart finally settled a little. He lowered his head and sighed softly, patting his chest, silently comforting himself not to be afraid, that the people outside would leave soon, just like before.
But this time, Mu Mu was wrong. The precariously balanced blade hanging over their heads finally fell.
The knocking, as Mu Mu had expected, sounded for three rounds, then stopped. But what followed was a rough male voice he’d heard these past few days.
“Got him, got him! Stop knocking on that damn door! I brought one back! See if it’s that Zheng kid?”
Mu Mu, separated by a door, heard the word “Zheng,” and shuddered, his eyes widening in shock as he stared at the closed door.
No! An An wouldn’t be caught! An An is so smart, if anyone is to be caught, it would be the stupid Mu Mu.
Mu Mu kept comforting himself, turning his head to the right, positioning his ear towards the door to hear the sounds outside more clearly.
But the clearer he heard, the more despairing Mu Mu became.
Because the landlord shouted excitedly in his hoarse voice, “Zheng An, you little brat, playing hide-and-seek with me?! I still caught you! Try hiding! Try hiding again! I’ll tell you, trying to cheat me out of money, no way!”
“Today I’m going to pack you two little brats up and throw you out, let you sleep on the street!”
Interspersed with the landlord’s excited, unpleasant voice were dull “thumps,” like bouncing balls.
Mu Mu knew that sound was the sound of a hand hitting a head. Those men made that sound when they hit him before.
The landlord was hitting An An. At this thought, Mu Mu’s eyes reddened. He threw the towel down, spun around in the small living room, saw the broom leaning in the corner after his cleaning, quickly picked it up, and held it in front of his chest.
The next moment, the closed door opened.
Zheng An was the first to enter, pushed forward by a burly man behind him. He tripped over the threshold, almost falling to his knees.
Behind him was a black, bald, burly man, whose black short-sleeved shirt looked like a tight-fitting bodysuit. Standing behind Zheng An, he made the 180cm tall Zheng An look surprisingly petite and adorable.
Following the bald man was a stooped little old man wearing a semi-transparent loose-fitting short-sleeved shirt of indeterminate color and dark green shorts—Mu Mu’s landlord.
Behind the landlord were four or five more men of varying heights but equally burly builds.
The apartment was small, and the men were large. Four of them filled the tiny living room, with the remaining two having to stand in the hallway.
As soon as the men entered, they saw Mu Mu, his eyes wide and red, his chin lifted, his chest puffed out, clutching the broom like a small, spirited rooster. They paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.
Was Mu Mu scared? Of course, he was. Looking at these burly men whose heads almost touched the ceiling, his hands trembled as he gripped the broom handle.
Yet, he bravely took a step forward, glaring at the bald man with eyes red from fear or anger, shouting forcefully, “Let An An go! Otherwise, I’ll hit you! It’ll hurt, you know!”