That Slip of Paper Proving Eligibility for Low-Rent Housing

Hearing Manager Wang's words, Lisa Liu's face flushed red.

Before she could speak, Helen Han had already hurried forward and said, "I heard you two just now, constantly cursing at this VIP!"

"That's right, I heard it too. The things you said were nasty. But this VIP is generous—he didn't even get angry!" Another salesgirl from the office stepped up to chime in.

By now, Manager Wang's stance was obviously on Evan Lin's side. The salesgirls in the office weren't stupid—they knew perfectly well who actually put food on their table.

It was a bit of a shame to lose a sale, but looking at the situation, those two who just got beaten up probably wouldn't be buying a house here anymore anyway.

"You—you've gone too far!" Lisa Liu pointed her finger this way, face full of anger, but she was helpless to do anything.

"Let me know when the paperwork's done. Here's my number." Evan Lin left his phone number with May Wang, then strode straight toward the main entrance.

He hadn't gone all out on Kevin Cheng or Lisa Liu. In a tiny place like Whitewood County, if a murder case broke out, it would be all too easy to drag Joy Zheng into the mess.

Evan didn't want Joy Zheng to worry or live in fear because of anything he did.

After Evan left, Manager Wang looked at May Wang. "Your name is May Wang, right?"

"Yes, Manager." May Wang had been staring in a daze at Evan Lin's departing figure, but snapped back to reality at Manager Wang's words, looking at him a bit nervously.

"Good, very good. You're officially hired—come see me tomorrow to finish the paperwork."

"Really? Thank you, Manager!"

May Wang's eyes lit up with joy at Manager Wang's words, her face breaking into a smile.

Getting hired meant an extra five hundred yuan a month. For May Wang, who was strapped for cash, that was no small sum.

"Of course it's real—why would I lie to you?" Manager Wang chuckled, then asked, "By the way, what's your relationship with that client who just bought the houses?"

Manager Wang had paid special attention when Evan Lin said to have the deal signed under May Wang's name.

He wasn't keen on offending local big shots like Kevin Cheng and Lisa Liu, but compared to them, that young man who could casually pay the full price for two houses was someone he really didn't dare cross.

Anyone who could pull out that kind of money definitely wasn't as simple as they looked on the surface.

As soon as Manager Wang asked, everyone nearby turned to look at May Wang, their eyes full of curiosity.

"We... we're just junior high classmates. Just regular classmates," May Wang made sure to emphasize the word "regular."

Now, Evan Lin seemed so mysterious to her that she couldn't help but feel a little inferior.

"Oh." Manager Wang nodded, then called over the security guards and told them to take Lisa Liu and Kevin Cheng to the hospital and let them handle their own wounds.

Evan Lin got home at seven thirty in the evening.

The houses were bought; now he just had to wait for the property certificate and keys. But figuring out how to get Joy Zheng to move in—and under what pretense—was giving Evan a real headache.

Telling Joy Zheng the truth was out of the question. Whether she'd believe him or not, Evan wasn't about to take that risk. Sometimes, knowing less was actually safer.

When he got home, dinner was already set on the table. Joy Zheng sat at the old desk, working on her lesson plans under the glow of a desk lamp.

Hearing the door open, Joy Zheng turned and smiled at Evan Lin. "You're back. Did you eat tonight?"

"If you haven't eaten, I can heat up the food for you. You're back so late—did you have too much fun out there?"

Her tone was gentle, but it was clear she was tired.

The after-school class run by Joy Zheng and Flora Huang mainly taught elementary school kids, covering just two subjects: Chinese and math.

In elementary school, those two are the core subjects. But when it comes to exams, math matters way more than Chinese. No matter how bad your Chinese scores are, the gap on finals is just a few points, maybe ten at most.

But math is a different story. One question can be worth a ton of points—just missing a few can drop you ten, twenty, even thirty points in a snap.

The impact on grades is obvious.

Most parents sent their kids to the class mainly to improve their math.

Flora Huang taught Chinese. Her classes were pretty chill—kids just memorized texts, sometimes got quizzed on Tang poems or passages, and if things got busy, she'd have them write an essay for practice. Easy and relaxed.

But Joy Zheng was different. She taught math, and every night she came home to write lesson plans for the next day, figuring out each child's weak spots. If a kid struggled with calculations, she'd focus on that; if they had trouble with word problems, she'd cover those more.

She was busy and exhausted. Evan Lin had tried telling her not to work so hard, but she'd just scolded him.

In Joy Zheng's words: What parent doesn't want their kid to succeed and get better grades? It's only natural. If they're willing to pay for tutoring, it's because they trust her as a teacher.

For the sake of that trust, Joy Zheng worked hard to help the kids improve their grades.

Evan Lin still remembered how Joy Zheng once pulled open a drawer to show him a pile of certificates—honors from teaching competitions, proof of her classes' outstanding average scores.

There were plenty of honors and awards, but what stood out most was the low-rent housing application letter sitting right next to them.

All these years, Joy Zheng had wanted to get Evan a better place to live, but she couldn't afford to buy or rent. She tried for low-rent housing, but every application over the years had been rejected.

Society hadn't rewarded Joy Zheng for her hard work. She lived in a shabby, rundown house, finding joy in her honors and her students' progress, always worrying if Evan Lin had enough to eat or wear, but rarely thinking about her own situation.

As for the tutoring class, Joy Zheng couldn't afford to rent a place, and Flora Huang's husband worked in the education bureau, so they started it together.

Flora Huang provided her family's underground garage as the classroom, and even the cost of installing air conditioning and desks was split between them. But when it came to teaching, Joy Zheng handled most of the workload, while Flora did much less—yet Flora took the lion's share of the money, leaving Joy with only a small portion.

There were plenty more things like that—too many to count.

"It's fine. In this summer heat, cold food's not bad." Evan Lin grinned, scooped himself a bowl of rice, and sat down at the table to eat heartily. Joy Zheng smiled faintly, then bent her head back to her lesson plans.

"Oh, by the way, Auntie Lu called just now. She said Lillian might come over to play in the next few days."