My 26-Year-Old Female Tenant

As the woman in red finished her slice of watermelon, the sun also happened to vanish beyond the distant horizon, leaving behind on the tranquil river surface the last reluctant glimmer of twilight—night still arrived, unstoppable.

She placed the eaten watermelon rind into the trash bin, and I timely offered her a tissue, to which she said "Thank you" as she took it from my hand.

After signaling that there was no need for thanks, I stood up and walked towards the railing, gazing at Xitang Street enveloped in the night. At this moment, the street seemed to write its own solitude with the lights of thousands of homes and the twinkling stars.

It must be lonely, because a once-peaceful water town had been transformed into a commercial tourist area, receiving all kinds of people every day. It must yearn for its former charm, and loneliness stems from that yearning.

The woman in red stood beside me and asked, "You mentioned earlier that you were troubled by a business problem, what exactly is it?"

I put away my solitary thoughts that drifted with Xitang Street and shared with her the contradiction between the surge in tourist flow brought by the "Perfect Travel Plan" and the limited capacity of the inn.

She wore a contemplative expression... I didn't rush her, as I didn't expect her to offer any good advice.

Time trickled away as she pondered, and with nothing else to do, I lit a cigarette for myself, making my little corner blur into obscurity, as if echoing the solitude of the entire Xitang Street.

When I was halfway through the cigarette, she finally spoke: "You could consider a shell lease."

"A shell lease?"