Momo's Gradual Change - VOL. 1

C112. Moving Day!

Chapter 112: Moving Day!

Moving to a new home is no easy task.

Even though Grandma Song had resolved to leave most things behind, once she started packing, she couldn’t help herself. This item was too useful to abandon, that item too full of memories. Soon, the living room floor was so cluttered, there was hardly room to stand.

Song Yimo tried to step in and stop her, but Zhai Muyang held her back. “Let Grandma pack as much as she likes. She could bring everything if she wanted.”

“But it won’t all fit.”

“Don’t worry; it will. When I got the new place ready, I left plenty of room. Older people hold on to things—they mean a lot to her. If we’re missing anything when we get there, we’ll add it then.”

Song Yimo sighed, glancing around. “With Grandma’s packing, there’s bound to be more and not less. But you’re right—let’s let her enjoy herself.”

Back in her own room, Song Yimo took a long look around. “I don’t have much to bring. Some clothes, schoolbooks, and my computer, and that’s about it.”

“All set? If you’re sure, I’ll take your computer over first. The internet’s already up, so you’ll be able to use it right away.”

“Yes,” Song Yimo replied, pulling a few bags from the closet and starting to pack her clothes. “This room belonged to Song Yi before. I’ll only take what’s mine. I don’t want even a trace of her things in my new room.”

Zhai Muyang instantly understood what she was feeling. His little sister was marking her territory, unwilling to bring even a trace of someone else’s things into her new space—especially Song Yi’s.

But…

He glanced at her soft profile, smiling to himself. Song Yimo must already be thinking of the new place as home.

With that thought, he couldn’t hold back a grin. “Let me help you.”

Song Yimo looked up at him, her smile spreading in response. “My things are easy to pack, Dage. You should go help Grandma. Don’t let her overwork herself—and if she’s taking too much, try to gently talk her down.”

“Alright. Just call me if you need anything.”

“Got it.”

That night, Zhai Muyang drove back and forth twice, and by the next morning, the moving truck he’d arranged arrived along with six strong movers. Working for their boss, the movers put their best effort in, lifting and loading until every last item was downstairs in no time.

And just then, as luck would have it, several elderly neighbors were out for their morning stroll, buying groceries and chatting. When Song Yimo helped Grandma down the steps, they were already huddled, eyeing the movers curiously. Song Yimo glanced at her grandmother but gave no signal.

There was no need for her to ruin Song Zhi’s reputation. It was rotten enough as it was. Even if she kept quiet, word would spread. Once they left, stories of how Song Zhi had thrown his own mother and niece out for the sake of that apartment would fly like wildfire.

This was exactly the result she wanted. As for anything else, she would tolerate it all for Grandma’s sake—even if it meant holding her tongue.

As Zhai Muyang directed the movers to load up carefully, he turned and held Grandma’s arm on the other side. “Grandma, you and Yimo should sit in the car and wait for a bit. Everything will fit. We’ll be off as soon as we finish here.”

Before Grandma could respond, an elderly neighbor caught sight of her. “Chunxiang, are you moving? Where to? Will we be able to see you as often?”

“Of course! It’s close by; I’ll come visit you often.”

“That’s a relief. We thought we’d lose a good neighbor.”

“Oh, Chunxiang, was it Song Yi who bought the house for you?”

“Yes, was it really her? After all you’ve done raising your granddaughter, she ought to be taking good care of you now.”

Grandma forced a smile and patted Yimo’s hand, letting out a soft sigh. “I, Zhang Chunxiang, never had the fate to enjoy the care of my own children. If it weren’t for my eldest grandson, who bought us a place, Yimo and I wouldn’t have anywhere to go.”

“Impossible! Weren’t you fine right here?”

Hearing this, Grandma’s eyes filled with tears she could barely hold back. These people might be neighbors, but they’d shared decades of friendship. They were always the first to help in times of need; when her husband passed, it was these friends who helped ensure his sendoff wasn’t lonely. Remembering all of that, her tears fell faster.

“Grandma, why are you crying?” Song Yimo, wiping what felt like endless tears, turned anxiously to her brother.

Zhai Muyang gave her a small shake of the head, signaling her to let Grandma cry it out—it would do her good.

The neighbors, all elderly themselves, crowded around, offering their support.

With a choked voice, Grandma Song explained, “Lately, there’s been talk around town that property values are going up. Song Zhi came back with his family, claiming the apartment is his and insisting I change the deed into his name. But how could we, with an elderly woman and a girl still in high school, keep fighting with him every day? If he wants it, he can have it. From now on, I’ll act as if I have no son.”

One neighbor clucked angrily. “That ungrateful brat! Next time I see him, he’s going to get an earful from me. The nerve, as if he’s owed something after all you did to raise him.”

“That’s right, Chunxiang! Why let him push you around? You should have told him off—if you couldn’t handle it, the law could.”

But Grandma Song only managed a tired smile. “I know exactly what he’s like. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll keep at it. And I don’t want any more ugly fights—Yimo’s schooling matters far more.”

The group continued to console her, gradually nudging Song Yimo and Zhai Muyang aside. Zhai Muyang leaned down and murmured, “Did you ask Grandma to say all that?”

Song Yimo shook her head. “Grandma must be so disappointed.”

When the last of the items were finally loaded, Song Yimo stepped forward and said gently, “Grandma, it’s time to go.”

Grandma Song nodded and, turning to her friends, said, “I’ll come by soon to go shopping with you all.”

“Of course, go on and take care of your own business,” one replied.

Song Yimo smiled at the group. “Once we’re all settled in, I’ll have you all over to warm our new home.”

“Yes, yes, we’ll definitely come by and celebrate with you!”

As they watched the two moving trucks pull away, the neighbors murmured their relief. “Chunxiang’s blessings are still to come.”

In the car, Grandma looked back at the old apartment growing smaller in the distance, her eyes filling once more.

Song Yimo slipped an arm around her and spoke softly, “Grandma, we’re really close by. You can come visit anytime.”

But even as she said it, Song Yimo understood that things had already changed. The old place had been a home. Now, it was just a place to visit.

Her home was now in Fuhai Garden, Apartment 201.

Song Yimo smiled at the thought. Her home!

A home with her grandma, her big brother, and a room all her own—filled with only her things, her own scent, no one else’s traces.

A home where the stairs weren’t rusted, where the hallway lights weren’t broken more often than not.

A home where there’d be no calls from Song Yi, no visits from Song Zhi and his family, barging in, pointing at everything and reminding her it was their apartment, and she, Song Yimo, had no right to it. A place where no one would call her bad luck.

No one would whisper in her hearing that she was cursed, dragging her grandmother down with her…

The thought filled her with an almost unbearable yearning to go home.