Chapter 107: A Brand New Beginning

Inside the airport bookstore, Zhang Chu wandered about, dragging his suitcase. The place was actually quite small, yet bustling with people. Travelers waiting for flights or in transit often found themselves with ample free time; while many chose to play on their phones or watch videos, a considerable number preferred to read books.

Although the bookstore was limited in size and selection, its profitability likely surpassed that of Zhang Chu’s own Hanlin Pavilion bookstore. The prime location attracted heavy foot traffic, including numerous business professionals and tourists, all with substantial spending power and a willingness to part with money.

After browsing around, Zhang Chu mentally categorized the books: the bestsellers were the usual junk—meaningless “chicken soup” psychology books, useless theoretical success manuals, dull and nonsensical mystery novels, bland biographies of prominent figures, and impractical travel guides. Many avid readers brought their own books rather than buying from the airport bookstore.

As Zhang Chu prepared to leave, his eyes caught an LED advertisement on the wall displaying “Detective Sherlock.” The irony hit him hard—he hadn’t expected to see his own book promoted at the airport. Considering how many airports there were nationwide, if his book had ads in each one, it was proof of decent sales.

“This ad is pretty eye-catching. I wonder how many copies they sell daily,” he mused. In bookstores around Jiangcheng, including Xinhua and other chains or independent shops, he had never seen such lavish LED ads—usually just posters or nothing at all, with the books simply shelved.

The airport was vast, with multiple bookstores, but Zhang Chu had already heard the boarding announcement. It was time to embark on his journey to Yanjing.

—

Several hours later, amid the bustling crowd at Capital International Airport, a young man stood out only to himself; the reporters lingering around showed no interest, as he was no celebrity.

Zhang Chu swiftly navigated through the airport, not lingering but intent on finding a place near Yanjing University to settle. He would spend the next few years there, so renting a place nearby was the wisest plan.

Of course, if he could afford to buy property, it might appreciate by millions in four years’ time. But with his tight finances, renting was the only option.

The distance from Capital International Airport to Yanjing University was considerable. Taking the subway required multiple transfers, so unfamiliar with the city, Zhang Chu opted for a taxi.

The queue for taxis snaked endlessly, discouraging those behind from joining. Zhang Chu shook his head and pulled out his phone to order a ride-share, unsure if he could get one in Yanjing.

To his surprise, a driver accepted the order almost instantly.

“A big city really does need your own car,” Zhang Chu muttered. He regretted declining the pick-up service from Nanhai Publishing Company; heading straight to the hotel would have been easier.

Fortunately, the ride-share driver was parked in the underground lot. After exiting the taxi stand, Zhang Chu followed the signs to the parking spot.

The driver was a typical Yanjing local, talkative from the moment Zhang Chu got in, chatting non-stop and easing any awkwardness.

“Heading near Yanjing University, huh? Must be a top student,” the driver guessed.

“Yanjing University’s quite something—the first university in the country. You’ve got to be a high scorer to get in, especially as an out-of-town student.”

“Are you a freshman or a returning student? I think the new students haven’t started, but sophomores are already back training.”

Zhang Chu responded comfortably, the two exchanging questions and answers. The journey sped by without a dull moment.

For an average young person, arriving in such a bustling metropolis might be disorienting, but Zhang Chu, with his wealth of life experience from past lives, saw this merely as a fresh start and challenge.

The hotel reservation he made earlier allowed immediate check-in. Yanjing University was in Zhongguancun, a prime area with correspondingly high prices and service quality.

Lying on the bed with his room card in hand, Zhang Chu finally exhaled—though the journey wasn’t over yet. Tomorrow was the suspense literature summit, but he wanted to settle his housing situation this afternoon to have a stable base. Staying in a hotel felt too transient.

With enough money, any service was within reach.

He placed his suitcase in the room and used his phone to contact a rental agent, then slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out.

In the hotel lobby, a young man dressed in a white shirt and suit pants approached. “Hello, are you Mr. Zhang Chu? I’m Xiao Tu, an agent from Fangtianxia.”

“Yes, I mentioned on the phone that I want to rent a place near Yanjing University. Preferably a quiet environment with good security. One or two bedrooms, but no shared apartments.”

He preferred renting over dormitories for the peace needed to write. A mature residential community was much better.

Xiao Tu nodded and gestured toward a nearby sofa. “Yanjing University’s area is popular. Affordable good homes get snapped up immediately, especially during the start of the semester when many prospective graduate students from Yanjing and Tsinghua are hunting for places. We do have some good listings, but prices tend to be high.”

Zhang Chu was mentally prepared. Since he began searching, he’d tracked local rents: two-bedroom units generally started around six to seven thousand yuan per month, while one-bedroom places weren’t much cheaper, typically four to five thousand.

It's Zhongguancun, after all—top schools and companies abound.

“As long as the environment and décor are decent, price isn’t an issue,” Zhang Chu said calmly. The rates were beyond ordinary students’ means, but for first or second-generation wealthy individuals, not a problem.

Those who could afford to rent here were definitely not ordinary. Xiao Tu smiled and pulled out an iPad. “We can preview the styles and layouts here. If you like one, we can go see it in person. How does that sound?”

Zhang Chu had no objections—it saved him from wandering around under the blazing sun.

On the iPad, he could see detailed information: bus and subway routes nearby, various amenities, and the distance to the university campus.

He wasn’t picky; for a move-in-ready place, as long as it looked acceptable, it was fine.

The one-bedroom units seemed too small, barely different from a dorm room. After a quick glance, he moved on to the two-bedroom listings.

“This one’s nicely decorated and the layout is quite square. Has it been rented out yet?” Zhang Chu pointed at the screen. “What’s the monthly rent?”

“That one’s a newly listed matrimonial home, so the price is a bit higher. It’s 70 square meters, two bedrooms and a living room, 7,000 yuan per month. You could consider sharing it. Located within Weixiuyuan near Yanjing University’s west gate, low floor without elevator. If you attend Yanjing, biking there daily is easy.”

Zhang Chu was decisive. “How long to walk there now? Let’s go see it immediately.”

—

The rental agent probably hadn’t expected the process to be so swift. After a brief inspection of the layout, appliances, and furniture, Zhang Chu decided to rent the place.

He signed the contract, received the water, electricity, and gas cards, plus the door keys. After paying nearly thirty thousand yuan, he realized this apartment had become his new home base.

Many items inside needed replacement or purchase—bed and bedding had to be new, daily necessities were absent, and the sofa and air conditioner required thorough cleaning.

Exhausted by the day, Zhang Chu planned to hire a cleaning company for a deep clean and disinfection tomorrow before moving in.

As for internet service, he’d simply contact a provider. In today’s world, no one could survive without connectivity.

Renting was mentally and physically taxing. After all was settled, he was utterly spent, not even wanting to explore the Yanjing campus.

“I wonder when I’ll be able to buy a place here. At least five more books to write,” he pondered.

Currently, each book earned him only tens of thousands of yuan—barely enough for a down payment. He considered approaching Nanhai Publishing about his “Journey to the West Diary.” Constantly updating it online for free wasn’t sustainable.

“Good thing it’s free—otherwise I’d get slammed again,” Zhang Chu muttered, recalling the backlash from “Psychological Crime.” He vowed not to repeat past mistakes.

****************

After this lengthy transition, the story truly begins to unfold~