Chapter 11 That Year, That Month, That Love Story_1

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Faye Owen was in a bind but she put on a brave face and said, "Mr King, what do you mean by 'the issue has been resolved'? You clearly stated that you wouldn't blame Miss Zhao for renting out the house without your consent. In other words, you temporarily permitted her to lease it. Therefore, it's obvious that my rental agreement is valid."

"President Owen, please be responsible for your own words. Miss Zhao said she'd reimburse the rental payment to you, but you told her to keep it for emergencies and even generously gave her an extra three thousand yuan! Hence, the eleven thousand yuan you paid is considered a charitable donation to Miss Zhao." Yves King rose to his feet, grabbed her luggage and began to walk out. "All right, President Owen, whether you're out here to experience life or play runaway, I suggest you carry on somewhere else. Stop wasting my time."

"Wait a moment..." In her desperation, Faye stood in Yves' way and said with a somewhat alarmed look on her pretty face, "You... you can't throw me out."

Yves looked at her coldly and said sternly, "Reason!"

"Because, because..." As Faye searched frantically for a reason, a thought flashed across her eyes, and she quickly opened her purse, pulled out all the cash and said, "Because I only have fifty-one yuan left. If you throw me out, I'll be homeless. Yves King, surely you can't bear to see me sleep on the streets? Don't you have any compassion?"

"There are at least a hundred thousand homeless people in Sea City. I can't sympathize with all of them." Yves said indifferently, "If you have no other reason, then..."

"Wait a minute, I have... I have a reason!" Swearing inwardly at the heartless Yves, Faye quickly added, "I donated to Miss Zhao, who helped your family in the past, consider it as repaying a favor on your behalf. Let me stay in this house for three months. Once the time is up, I'll move out immediately."

"I can repay my own favors." Yves responded dismissively, "If you regret the donation but can't ask for it back yourself, I can help you get it back as long as you leave immediately."

"How can I take back the money I donated? What kind of person do you think I am?" Faye retorted unhappily, then took a firm stance: "I'll tell you the truth, I have OCD. If I decide on something, I'll do anything to make it happen. Regardless of any mishaps, I paid for this house and I'm going to live here. Not only will you not be able to throw me out on the street, even if you throw me into the Whangpoo, I'll swim back."

"I'll give it to you straight as well, I also have OCD. If anyone tries to force me to do something I don't want to, I won't bat an eyelid, even with a knife to my throat." Yves retorted sarcastically: "Even if you tried to seduce me, I'd never back down."

"Who wants to seduce you?" Faye was infuriated by his impudent remark, her eyes wide and teeth gritted, "Yves King, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"What kind of person you are has nothing to do with me." Yves replied languidly, "So, President, please kindly leave."

"King, are you really that heartless? Do you want to drive me to my death?" Faye Owen was enraged, her delicate body shaking with anger. Never before had anyone dared to reject her so blatantly. After all, she was an intelligent, well-educated woman with social status. It should have been his honor to have her live in his house. Was it possible that he was gay?

"Drive you to death? Eh, President Owen, that's quite an exaggeration." Yves shook his head dispassionately and said, "Frankly, I have no disgust toward you. I even admire your ways of dealing with the world. But I genuinely don't want anyone living in my house. Look, I'll return to you the eight thousand you donated to Miss Zhao, enough for you to stay in a budget hotel for a month or two. Or you could stay with a friend of the same sex for a while. Or you could live in your company's break room, which not only solves your housing problem but also creates an image of persevering in hardship for your colleagues, enhancing your authority and inspiring many to work overtime with you."

"I don't need to resort to such means to establish authority, nor do I need to exploit employees' overtime to benefit the company." Faye Owen's eyebrows tightened slightly, her management philosophy has always been to develop core competitiveness and enhance the advantages of their products rather than exploit employees' labor for profit. She added, "And I won't need the money I donated returned back."

"Alright, you can go now." Yves King said, waving his hand dismissively as he yawned.

Even the most patient person has limits, let alone the privileged Faye Owen. He waved her off repeatedly, like shooing away a fly. Faye, her anger ignited like a barrel of gunpowder, grew eerily calm just as her fury was at its peak. Her beautiful face remained impassive, her voice ice-cold. "Yves King, Mr. King, I wish to negotiate the terms for staying here. Currently, due to some unforeseen circumstances, I am temporarily without money. But in a few months, as stated in the contract, I will receive a substantial salary. At that time, I can pay you a monthly rent of ten thousand to cover the cost."

Living in the company is not an option. The vacant building at night, with only a few security guards on duty, terrifies and unsettles her. Living with her best friend is not an option either, because her friend had left for Fragant River early that day to handle some business. Moreover, even if her friend were available, Faye wouldn't be comfortable sharing a living space. Her friend's peculiar habits are too much for her to bear.

As for other friends, well, having moved abroad for school in middle school, she really does not have anyone close enough to impose upon. As for her two homes in Sea City, she dare not even consider them. Her father had made his position clear. Being as cunning and relentless as he was, there would be no loophole for her to exploit on this front.

Engrossed in her thoughts, Faye barely noticed when Yves yawned again. "President Owen, take your time. I am hungry, so I'll get something to eat. I do hope that by the time I get back, you will have disappeared."

Before she could react, Yves stormed out. Faye stood there, her feet stomping in frustration yet helpless against his dismissal. She was left with no choice but to sit on the sofa and rack her brains.

When Yves reached the stairway exit, the chilled night breeze in early April was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the day. Tightening his wind coat, he walked out of the neighborhood's side gate at a leisurely pace. Yet, as he looked up at the newly paved, busy road and the construction site opposite, his brow furrowed.

"Ugh!" He couldn't help but sigh heavily. Previously, a bustling old street lay here, with rows of old houses on the other side. Though somewhat dilapidated, the streets were lined with bustling shops and along with several vendors. At one point, an impromptu open-air market had sprung up with people setting up stalls to sell vegetables. The area had been brimming with life.

Yves had fond memories of the street. Growing up, both he and his mother had to cross this vibrant street every day. It was home to many things he used to enjoy eating. This street harbored home to many of his memories. Even at near-death experiences, besides his mother, he would think about his home, and this street.

Besides, he would also think about the girl who loved to wear white, and sported pigtails. Despite all the experiences which made his past feel like a distant lifetime, most events, and many memories had faded. But she, as if etched permanently in his mind, was still as vivid as if he'd just seen her.

Yves wondered how many lifetimes it would take for him to forget her, forget the deep sadness lurking behind the bright spark of her eyes, that were still capable of flashing that seemingly sweet smile.

Truth is, back then, Yves had wished she'd lashed out at him with harsh words. However, she had remained silent, simply looking at him as she smiled through her tears.

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