The process of signing for the house turned out to be far more complicated than Dong Enze had imagined.
After viewing it in person, the two of them hired a professional home inspection company to thoroughly recheck the house's structure, waterproofing, electrical system, plumbing, and soundproofing. Once the full report came out, there were still several points to confirm with the original owner. The realtor and both sides' lawyers went back and forth revising the contract several times before they finally reached the actual signing stage.
Nearly two months had passed between the first time they saw the house on a tablet and the moment both their names officially appeared on the documents.
On the day they signed, Enze stared at the final page for a long time.
Weiran sat beside him, holding the other set of documents they had just finished signing.
“Can't understand it?”
“I can.”
“Then why are you staring at it for so long?”
Enze's gaze remained fixed on their names.
He had contributed part of the funds according to the ratio they had agreed on. The ownership and all future expenses they would be responsible for were also clearly laid out in the agreement. His share was smaller than Weiran's, but a portion of it genuinely belonged to him.
This was no longer simply a place Weiran had bought and allowed him to move into.
The legal documents stated it clearly: this was a house they owned together.
“It just doesn't feel real.”
Enze reached out and brushed his fingers over the paper.
“So that's it? We bought it?”
“The money's all paid. Are you trying to back out now?”
“That's not what I mean.”
“Then put it away.”
Weiran organized their documents into a folder, then placed it in his briefcase along with the condition report and related receipts.
Watching him, Enze wore a smile he couldn't quite hide.
“Weiran.”
“Mm-hmm?”
“We have a house.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“We really have one.”
“I know.”
“How come you're not reacting at all?”
Weiran looked up.
“What reaction do you want?”
“At least be a little happy.”
“Do I look unhappy?”
Enze studied him seriously for several seconds.
Weiran's expression wasn't much different from usual, but his brows and eyes were noticeably more relaxed than when he had walked in. Even the way he organized the documents wasn't as hurried as when he handled work.
Only someone very familiar with him could see the emotion hidden beneath that calm.
Enze understood it quickly.
“You're happy too.”
Weiran didn't deny it.
He put away the last document and stood.
“Let's go.”
“Where?”
“Eat.”
“To celebrate?”
“What do you want to eat?”
Enze immediately stood as well.
“Then it is a celebration.”
By the time they left the signing office, it was nearly evening. The midsummer sunlight was still bright, and heat hung between the roads and buildings, making Enze squint slightly when it rushed toward them.
Walking beside Weiran, Enze reached out and took his hand.
Weiran glanced down.
“It's hot.”
“Just hold my hand for a bit.”
“Your palm is sweaty.”
“Yours is too.”
“So let go.”
Instead of letting go, Enze threaded his fingers between Weiran's.
“Not today.”
Weiran looked at him, then merely tightened their clasped hands a little.
The house with its huge windows, courtyard, studio, and dance room had finally become the place they would return to together in the future.
They still had a long way to go before they could move in.
Three days after signing, Weiran arranged a time to take Enze to meet the designer.
The design firm had been recommended by the realtor. It had previously worked on several homes requiring professional soundproofing and specialized flooring. Weiran had reviewed its work and confirmed the experience of the design and construction teams in advance before scheduling their first meeting.
That afternoon, the two of them arrived at the design studio early.
The studio occupied an upper floor of an old building, with windows spanning an entire wall and facing the city. Samples of wood, stone, and fabric were displayed in the reception area, while several photographs of completed projects hung on the walls.
As soon as Enze walked in, his attention was drawn to an entire wall of color swatches.
Dark wood, light wood, grain with gray undertones—even shades of ivory that looked almost identical were divided into more than a dozen options.
Standing in front of the wall, he realized for the first time that he had made renovating the house sound far too simple.
In his imagination, the designer would ask what style they liked. They would say simple, clean, and comfortable, and then receive a complete proposal.
Once he actually sat down in the conference room, he discovered that the questions were much more detailed than he had imagined.
Their usual waking and sleeping times, who cooked more often, how many clothes they had, the sizes of their work equipment, their storage habits, whether they often had visitors, and even where they each spent the most time when at home all had to be explained one by one.
The lead designer in charge of their house was a woman in her thirties with the surname Jiang. She projected the original floor plan onto the wall and first confirmed which areas the two of them wanted to preserve and which they wanted to change.
“The biggest changes right now are to these two rooms on the first floor.”
She marked the partition walls slated for removal with her pen.
“After opening them up, you'll make a dance room, correct?”
Enze nodded.
“Correct.”
“Will it mainly be used by one person, or will other dancers come in too?”
“Mostly just me. Occasionally I might discuss choreography with people from the dance company, but not often.”
“Do you need enough space to run through full formations?”
“No, it doesn't need to be as large as a formal rehearsal room. It'll mainly be for practice, stretching, and reviewing routines before performances.”
The designer made a note.
“Do you have any specific requirements for the flooring's structure or material?”
Enze took the information he had prepared in advance out of his bag.
He hadn't only listed his flooring requirements. He had also clearly written down the mirror height, handrail placement, and approximate space needed for the sound system. Several sheets even included simple diagrams.
Weiran glanced at them from beside him.
“When did you make these?”
“These past few days.”
“You come home that late every day and still had time for this?”
“During breaks at rehearsal.”
“Didn't I tell you not to overdo it?”
“This is different.”
Enze handed the information to the designer, then said quietly to Weiran, “Besides, I really want it.”
The expectation in those final words was impossible to hide.
Weiran stopped himself from saying whatever he had been about to say.
“I know.”
The designer flipped through the materials, clearly surprised.
“This is very thorough. It'll save us a lot of time during the confirmation process.”
Enze smiled.
“Thank you for your trouble.”
“Not at all. However, the dance room will be on the first floor, and part of the upstairs space connects to the primary bedroom. Besides interior sound absorption, we'll also need to deal specifically with structural sound transmission.”
The designer looked toward Weiran.
“Does Mr. Xu's studio also require professional soundproofing?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“The two spaces serve different purposes, so their soundproofing structures will be designed separately. Besides exterior soundproofing, the music studio will need its interior reflections controlled. The dance room, meanwhile, will need to balance floor elasticity, footfall noise, and the sound system.”
She marked the plans again.
“Construction for both areas will take a significant amount of time.”
Enze turned toward Weiran.
“Will it take longer than expected?”
Weiran didn't answer directly. He only asked the designer, “What's the preliminary estimate?”
“If it's just interior work, there's a chance we could finish in around six months. But the two of you want to replace all the windows, redo the electrical and plumbing, and redo the insulation. The kitchen, bathrooms, and soundproofed spaces will also need to be stripped and rebuilt, and some of the materials will need to be custom-made.”
The designer paused.
“Conservatively speaking, from confirming the design and submitting applications to officially completing the work, it may take ten months to a year.”
Enze froze.
“A year?”
“That is the conservative estimate. If construction goes smoothly, it may finish earlier, but I don't recommend scheduling your move-in date too tightly. The mirrors and flooring in the dance room, as well as the studio's acoustic work, will all require repeated testing.”
When they had first viewed the house, the realtor had only mentioned that the renovation would take at least several months.
Enze had always assumed they would be able to move in around the time their old apartment lease expired.
He hadn't expected the timeline to stretch to nearly a year once all their requirements were listed out.
“Then maybe we don't need to change so much?” he asked instinctively.
Weiran looked at him.
“Which parts shouldn't we change?”
“The windows don't necessarily all need to be replaced. And the dance room could start with the basics, then we could—”
“Take it apart and do it again later?”
“But it would take a year.”
“A year is a year.”
There wasn't the slightest hesitation in Weiran's voice.
“We're going to live there for a long time. A few extra months don't matter.”
Enze fell silent.
The designer glanced at the two of them and continued explaining. “If you're sure you want the full renovation, I'll divide the work into stages and provide an estimated timeline for each one. You can also separate the priority items from the secondary ones, which will make things easier to adjust if the budget or schedule needs to change.”
The first meeting lasted a full three hours.
Besides the dance room and studio, they also discussed the primary bedroom, walk-in closet, kitchen, living room, and courtyard.
Weiran preferred things simple and clean and didn't want too many useless decorations in the house. Enze, on the other hand, didn't want the colors to be too cold, especially in the living and dining rooms. Ideally, they would retain plenty of wood and soft lighting.
“All white makes it look like a hospital,” Enze said.
Weiran looked at the reference images the designer had displayed.
“I didn't say all white.”
“But everything you picked is white, gray, or black.”
“Simple.”
“Too cold.”
“Then you pick.”
Enze flipped through several reference images and pointed to a space featuring warm wood and dark gray.
“This one.”
Weiran studied it for a while.
“Fine.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Enze kept flipping.
“The sofa should be dark, or it'll get dirty too easily.”
“Weren't you planning to keep the old sofa?”
“The old one can go upstairs. The living room still needs a new one.”
“You pick.”
“If I pick, you can't complain.”
“Let's see what you pick first.”
They spent nearly half an hour just looking at sofa fabrics.
The designer didn't rush them, merely recording their preferences from the side. By the time the first meeting ended, the tabletop was covered with the color swatches and material samples they had selected.
It was already dark outside when they left the studio.
As soon as Enze stepped into the elevator, his shoulders sagged.
“I'm exhausted.”
Weiran pressed the button for the first floor.
“Weren't you excited?”
“Being excited and being tired aren't mutually exclusive.”
“This was only the first meeting.”
“How many more are there?”
“We'll see.”
Enze's reflected expression stiffened instantly in the elevator doors.
“Wasn't today enough to confirm everything?”
Weiran turned to look at him.
“You thought three hours could decide the entire house?”
“Couldn't it?”
“No.”
Enze leaned against the elevator wall and closed his eyes briefly.
“I'd rather rehearse for eight hours.”
“Regretting it now?”
“No.”
“Then we continue next week.”
“Next week?”
“We'll need to review the preliminary design once it's ready.”
Enze opened his eyes.
“You've already scheduled it?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“How do you do everything so fast?”
“Otherwise, should I wait for you to schedule it?”
Enze thought about it.
If he had to handle it himself, just contacting the design firm would probably take him half a month.
“Then you schedule it.”
The elevator reached the first floor.
Weiran walked out, with Enze following behind and naturally draping an arm over his shoulders.
“What are we eating tonight?”
“Didn't you say you were tired?”
“You still have to eat when you're tired.”
“Find something nearby.”
“I want meat.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And something sweet to drink.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“How come you agree to everything today?”
Weiran stopped and looked back at him.
“You were practically falling asleep while looking at the designs.”
“So this is my reward?”
“I'm just feeding you.”
Enze laughed and hugged him a little tighter.
“Close enough.”
The preliminary design proposal arrived in both their email inboxes four days later.
It was Saturday, and Enze happened to have no rehearsal, so the two of them connected the tablet to the living room TV and sat on the rug to look through it.
Following the contents of their first meeting, the designer had created two different directions.
The first leaned toward the clean, cool tones Weiran liked. The second added more wood and warm colors, while also keeping the old furniture they wanted to bring into their new home.
Enze shook his head after looking through the first option.
“Too cold.”
Weiran sat at the edge of the sofa.
“It's fine.”
“Look at the primary bedroom.”
“What about it?”
“It looks like a hotel.”
“Is a hotel bad?”
“Not bad. It just doesn't look like somewhere we'd live.”
Weiran looked up at him.
“Then what kind of place would we live in?”
Enze switched to the second option.
The living room walls were still primarily clean, light colors, but dark wood and warm gray fabrics added depth. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows was a sofa large enough for both of them to lie down on at the same time. A low bookcase sat beside it, while the dining room retained a space for their old dark dining table.
“This one.”
Enze pointed toward the dining room.
“Our table won't look weird in there.”
Weiran studied the rendering.
The designer hadn't made the old dining table look brand-new. Instead, they had preserved the marks accumulated over years of use along its corners and wooden surface, then used new dining chairs and lighting to integrate it into the space.
The table they had bought back then because it was thirty thousand won cheaper still looked ordinary in the spacious new home, but it no longer looked shabby.
Weiran stared at it for a long time.
“The second one.”
Enze immediately broke into a smile.
“I knew it.”
“But some parts need to be changed.”
“Which parts?”
“The TV wall doesn't need those cubbies.”
“They can hold things.”
“They'll just collect dust.”
“You don't dust.”
“Exactly. So don't build them.”
They went from the living room to the kitchen.
The island was larger than Enze had originally imagined, with two seats designed on the side facing the dining room. Weiran could sit there and work on his computer while Enze prepared breakfast on the other side.
“This part is great.” Enze zoomed in on the image. “But we need more outlets.”
“Why?”
“For the coffee maker, toaster, and juicer.”
“We have a juicer?”
“We can buy one later.”
“How many times will you use it?”
“If we buy it, I'll use it.”
Weiran's expression clearly said he didn't believe him.
Enze ignored him and directly added the outlet issue to the reply email.
The primary bedroom became the place where they argued the longest.
The designer had placed the bed against the interior wall, leaving a walkway on either side, with a loveseat by the window. The overall colors were quiet, and the walk-in closet was divided into two sides according to the proportion of their clothes.
Enze enlarged the closet layout.
“Why is my side bigger?”
“You have more clothes.”
“You don't have that few.”
“Black shirts can be folded together.”
“No, they can't. The fabrics are different.”
Weiran looked at him.
Enze paused.
“Don't you just shove everything in randomly?”
“I know which ones are different.”
“Then why do you ask me every time you can't find something?”
“You're better at finding things.”
“So I'm still the one organizing everything?”
“We can do it together.”
Weiran didn't call out the obvious lack of reliability in that promise.
He pointed to the bed in the primary bedroom.
“Make this bigger.”
Enze blinked.
“It's already huge.”
“Not big enough.”
“We can sleep on the one we have now.”
“You kick people in your sleep.”
“I do not.”
“Last time I woke up, your leg was on top of me.”
Enze's ears quickly turned red.
Ever since they had confirmed that they would share the primary bedroom in the future, they had stopped deliberately sleeping in separate rooms.
Weiran's equipment was still in his own room, and most of the time Enze still went back to his own room to sleep. But whenever neither of them had to work too early the next day, or when one of them came home late, they would naturally end up lying on the same bed.
At first, it really hadn't been easy to get used to.
Before bed, Enze would always ask himself whether he was taking up too much space, but after falling asleep he would unconsciously inch closer. Weiran complained that he was too warm, but had never actually pushed him away.
“That was because I was asleep,” Enze argued.
“Then make it bigger.”
“If the bed's too big, the room will look cramped.”
“The room is big enough.”
“But—”
Weiran turned his face toward him.
“You don't want to?”
Enze immediately shut his mouth.
Two seconds later, he said quietly, “I do.”
The corners of Weiran's lips lifted slightly.
“Then make it bigger.”
Looking at the bed in the rendering, Enze couldn't help shifting a little closer to him.
The discussion continued from morning into the afternoon.
They ordered delivery once in the middle of it. When the food arrived, they put it directly on the coffee table and continued making changes while they ate.
There were three designs for the dance room.
The first had the largest mirrors but not enough storage. The second preserved more wall space, making it suitable for installing handrails and equipment. The third sectioned off a small changing and shower area in the corner. It had the most complete layout, but would reduce the actual activity space.
Enze went back and forth between them many times.
“We can skip the changing room.”
“Didn't you say you'd bring people from the dance company over?” Weiran asked.
“Only occasionally.”
“What about the shower?”
“There are bathrooms outside.”
“They're some distance away.”
“Not that far.”
Weiran looked at the floor plan.
“Keep the shower. Make the changing room smaller.”
“There won't be enough space.”
“Move the wall out a little.”
“That'll eat into the walkway.”
“The walkway is too wide.”
They spent nearly an hour discussing the measurements before finally organizing their ideas and sending them to the designer.
Weiran handled the studio himself.
Enze had thought this part would be the fastest, but Weiran changed the positions of the monitor speakers and work desk three times alone.
“You called me difficult.” Enze lay sprawled on the rug, watching him redraw the wiring. “This is you.”
“This affects the sound.”
“Mirrors affect my dancing too.”
“That's why I didn't rush you.”
“But you frowned just now.”
“My face always looks like this.”
“You were obviously annoyed.”
“No.”
“You were.”
Weiran set down his pen.
“Dong Enze.”
“What?”
“You're loud.”
Enze grinned.
“You like it.”
Weiran looked at him for several seconds.
“Mm-hmm.”
The admission was so direct that Enze froze instead.
“How come you don't argue anymore?”
“Saves time.”
“That's dismissive.”
“Want me to argue?”
“No.”
Enze climbed up from the rug and sat beside the sofa, then lifted his head and kissed the corner of Weiran's lips.
The movement was much more practiced than the first time.
Weiran still paused for a moment. Then he reached out, clasped the back of Enze's neck, and kissed him again before he could pull away.
By the time they turned their attention back to the designs, several minutes had already passed.
After they sent in their first round of revisions, the designer scheduled another online meeting for the following day.
The second proposal incorporated the changes they had suggested, but new problems appeared.
After the kitchen island was moved, it would narrow the path between the dining table and the floor-to-ceiling windows. Enlarging the bed in the primary bedroom meant the loveseat by the window would have to be made smaller. In order to preserve the shower in the dance room, the mirrors and equipment storage would need to be rearranged again.
Over the next few days, their lives were almost completely filled with floor plans, material samples, and budget sheets.
During breaks at rehearsal, Enze would receive pictures from Weiran.
“These two flooring colors.”
He would crouch in the corner of the rehearsal room, zoom in to compare them, and reply that the second one was better.
When he got home at night, more wood samples from the designer would be waiting on the dining table.
Weiran placed two boards that looked nearly identical in front of him.
“Pick.”
Enze stared at them from side to side for a long time.
“Is there a difference?”
“Didn't you say the last one was too cold?”
“But these two really look the same.”
“One leans gray, and one leans yellow.”
“Where?”
Weiran held the samples beneath the light.
Enze still couldn't see the difference and finally pointed at the one on the left based on instinct.
“This one.”
“Sure?”
“Which one do you like?”
“The right.”
“Then the right one.”
Weiran frowned.
“Why did you change your mind again?”
“I can't tell the difference. You decide.”
“Are you going to live there?”
“Yes.”
“Then look carefully.”
Enze took a deep breath and bent over the table to compare them for another ten minutes.
In the end, he still chose the left one.
“Because this one feels warmer.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Didn't you like the right one?”
“The left one is fine too.”
Only then did Enze realize that Weiran hadn't really been trying to force his own preference. He simply didn't want Enze to give up his opinion just to accommodate him.
During the week they finalized the design, they discussed some small detail nearly every day.
Sometimes they agreed and decided quickly. Other times neither would give in, so they would leave the images on the dining table and look at them until late at night.
The most serious disagreement was over whether the living room should have a wall-length storage cabinet.
Weiran didn't like open shelving and didn't want the wall packed too tightly. Enze thought the house would always have things that needed storing, and if they didn't build enough storage now, more and more storage boxes would inevitably appear later.
“The apartment is a mess because there's nowhere to put anything,” Enze said. “If we don't have storage, everything ends up piled outside.”
“The new house has enough space.”
“Having space isn't the same as having cabinets.”
“An entire wall would feel oppressive.”
“We can make it light-colored.”
“This isn't about the color.”
They sat at opposite ends of the dining table, genuinely deadlocked over the renovation for the first time.
Enze was already exhausted after a full day of rehearsal, and Weiran had just finished a long stretch of work. Neither had much patience left.
“Then you decide,” Enze said at last.
There was obvious displeasure in his voice.
Weiran looked up.
“Again?”
“What do you mean, again?”
“If there's a problem, say it. Don't throw the decision at me.”
“I already said it, and you disagreed.”
“We can keep discussing it if I disagree.”
“I don't want to discuss it anymore.”
Enze stood to return to his room, but Weiran called after him.
“Dong Enze.”
“I'm tired.”
“So?”
Enze stopped at the entrance to the hallway.
Before they had confirmed their relationship, he probably would have gone back to his room, waited for his emotions to settle on their own, and pretended the next day that nothing had happened.
But Weiran had explicitly told him not to hide problems anymore and not to decide whether he should give in by guessing at Weiran's feelings.
Enze stood there for a long while before finally turning around.
“I'm not mad about the cabinet.”
Weiran looked at him.
“Then what is it?”
“You keep telling me to decide, but every time I suggest something, you have another opinion.”
“Having an opinion doesn't mean I'm not letting you decide.”
“But it makes me feel like I'm being difficult.”
Weiran fell silent.
Enze knew his thinking wasn't necessarily reasonable.
Weiran had never called him difficult, nor had he ever stopped Enze from making requests because of the budget. But the habit of being afraid to take up too many resources wouldn't disappear instantly just because someone said, “This is your home too.”
He would always instinctively weigh whether he was asking for too much.
The dance room, the walk-in closet, the courtyard—even the living room had to be adjusted according to his storage habits.
“I know I own part of the house too,” Enze said quietly. “But you're still paying for most of it. I don't want to ask for everything.”
Weiran leaned back in his chair and looked at him.
After a moment, he asked, “Do you think I find your requests excessive?”
Enze didn't answer.
“If I didn't want to do something, I'd say so directly.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
Weiran stood and walked over to him.
“You're still watching my expression.”
Enze instinctively wanted to deny it, but the words stopped at his lips.
Because Weiran was right.
“If I have an opinion, it means I'm discussing it with you. It doesn't mean I want you to give up immediately.”
Weiran's tone wasn't harsh, but he spoke very clearly.
“It'll be the same after we move in. Every time we disagree, you can't just say, ‘Then you decide.’”
“Then what do we do if we keep arguing?”
“Argue until we have an answer.”
Enze looked up at him.
Weiran reached out and took hold of his wrist.
“What do you want to store in the cabinet?”
“Books, your equipment, and some keepsakes.”
“Make it half a wall.”
“Will that be enough?”
“If it isn't, we can plan storage into the TV wall too, but don't make it run all the way to the ceiling.”
Enze thought about it.
“Can the bottom be closed storage, with just a little open shelving on top?”
“Sure.”
“The same color as the walls?”
“Mm-hmm.”
The problem they had been stuck on for so long found a new direction in just a few sentences.
Enze looked at Weiran.
“Couldn't you have said that earlier?”
Weiran raised an eyebrow.
“Who was it that turned around and walked away?”
“I really am tired.”
“Not anymore?”
“Still tired.”
Weiran reached out and pulled him into his arms.
Caught off guard, Enze bumped his forehead against Weiran's shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Aren't you tired?”
Weiran wrapped his arms around Enze's waist.
“Give me a hug.”
Enze's tense shoulders slowly relaxed.
“You've gotten good at this.”
“At what?”
“Knowing when to hug me.”
“You don't like it?”
“I like it.”
Enze wrapped his arms around him in return and buried his face against Weiran's neck.
After a while, he mumbled, “We still need the cabinet.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I have a lot of stage keepsakes.”
“I know.”
“You can put your awards there too.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They're ugly.”
“Who complains that their own awards are ugly?”
“The designs are ugly.”
They sat back down at the dining table and added the last of their revisions to the document.
From their first meeting with the designer to finally confirming the floor plan and basic style, the whole process took nearly a week.
At the end of the final confirmation meeting, Enze leaned back in his conference-room chair and let out a long breath.
“Finally.”
The designer smiled as she organized the materials.
“This is only the first stage of the design.”
Enze slowly sat up.
“First stage?”
“Next come the detailed construction drawings, equipment confirmation, and final material selections. During construction, adjustments may also be needed depending on conditions at the site.”
The hope gradually drained from Enze's face.
Weiran sat beside him, lowering his head to sign the confirmation documents.
“I told you from the start.”
“I thought it would be done once we confirmed the design.”
“It doesn't work that fast.”
The designer turned the preliminary construction schedule toward them.
“Construction is currently expected to begin next month. The initial demolition, structural reinforcement, and utility work will take the most time. Soundproofing and interior finishing will come afterward.”
She pointed to the final section of the timeline.
“If there are no unforeseen circumstances, completion is expected in ten to eleven months. Before you officially move in, we'll also need to leave time for ventilation and inspection, so nearly a year is the safer estimate.”
Enze stared at the timeline that stretched almost all the way into the spring of the following year.
“It really takes that long.”
Weiran put away the documents.
“Otherwise, do you want to move into a construction site?”
“I just didn't expect it.”
“How much longer is your lease?” the designer asked.
“Less than six months,” Weiran answered.
“Then you may need to find a temporary place to stay in the meantime. If you rent a short-term home, you'll need to prepare in advance.”
Enze nodded.
He had initially wanted to ask whether they could have the landlord extend the lease, but the landlord had mentioned several months ago that they planned to renovate the apartment once the lease expired. They might not be willing to renew it for only a few months.
After leaving the studio, the two of them got into the car.
Enze fastened his seat belt but continued looking at the construction schedule.
“Where are we going to live?”
“We'll find somewhere else.”
“Short-term rentals are a pain.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And you have so much equipment.”
“I'll move it to the studio first.”
“What about my stuff?”
“Pack up what needs to be packed.”
Enze leaned back against the seat.
“How does it feel like buying a bigger house means we'll be homeless first?”
Weiran started the car.
“There are hotels and short-term apartments. We'll have somewhere to stay.”
“Staying in a hotel for months would be expensive.”
“We'll deal with it then.”
Weiran's tone was calm, as if he wasn't worried at all.
Enze, however, had already started calculating the time remaining on their lease against the renovation schedule.
They had only just bought a house, and the renovation was already a major expense. Adding long-term hotel or short-term rental costs on top of that would be unnecessary, even if Weiran could afford it.
“I can ask whether the dance company has housing.”
Weiran turned to look at him.
“If you live with the dance company, where do I live?”
“You could stay near the studio.”
“So we're going to start living apart not long after getting together?”
Enze immediately shut up.
He really hadn't thought of it that way.
Weiran kept his eyes on the road and added, “We live together.”
“Got it.”
“Don't make arrangements on your own.”
“I was just offering an option.”
“Rejected.”
Enze lowered his head and smiled.
“You really love bossing me around now.”
“I did it before too.”
“It was different before.”
“How?”
“Before, we were roommates.”
Weiran glanced at him.
Enze immediately corrected himself. “Before, we were just sharing a place.”
“What's the difference?”
“Now I'm your boyfriend.”
Weiran didn't say anything else, but the corners of his lips curved upward slightly.