vstars Chapter 20 | New Home
Chapter 20 | New Home
Time actually flies when you start a job.
The previous weekly meeting was like a shot of espresso, bitter yet sobering. At noon, the planning department dragged him out for a "welcome to the newcomer" lunch, everyone laughing and complaining. Cao Yisen sat in the middle of the group, laughing a few times, but his mind was preoccupied with one thing—
This place is really noisy. But it's not so noisy as to be unbearable.
After returning to his workstation, he worked methodically, helping Park Ji-eun organize data, creating a simple list of overseas public opinion keywords, and archiving several data screenshots chronologically. Someone passing by casually remarked, "You're a pretty reliable newcomer."
Cao Yisen thought to himself: Stay calm my ass, I just don't have the energy to panic.
Just before he was about to leave work in the afternoon, he was dragging the last document into the shared drive when his phone screen suddenly lit up.
It's Cao Rouli.
When the message popped up, he reflexively glanced at his colleague to make sure no one was watching before clicking on it.
The house is sorted out.
Don't go back to the hotel after get off work; just pack your luggage and bring it over.
This is followed by a location and a string of addresses.
She added, her tone very much like her usual domineering "I've made up my mind, so don't argue" manner:
Once you're ready, take a taxi and let me know when you arrive.
Cao Yisen stared at the line of text for two seconds. His first reaction was not surprise, but stunned silence.
"nailed it?"
He muttered to himself, "Didn't you say you were still watching?"
Then he glanced at the address again—a familiar area in Seoul, not far from his workplace, and easily accessible. At that moment, what welled up in his heart wasn't the relief of "finally not having to stay in a hotel," but rather an indescribable complexity.
This woman... her initiative is amazing.
He was about to reply with "When did you do that?", but then he thought it was pointless to ask, and she would definitely reply with "Mind your own business".
So he only typed two words.
【receive. 】
After sending it, he added another sentence, his tone more like a self-talking rant:
Isn't your efficiency a bit ridiculous?
Cao Rouli replied almost instantly after the message was sent.
【ah.】
Stop talking nonsense.
Check out of the hotel as soon as you get off work; hotel fees are still money.
Cao Yisen looked at the screen and couldn't help but smile.
He placed his phone face down on the table and glanced at the clock on the office wall—there was still some time before he got off work. Park Ji-eun, who was carrying a stack of documents, walked by and, seeing him suddenly smile, assumed he had been called out by someone again.
"What's wrong? Is someone causing you trouble again?" Park Ji-eun asked in a low voice.
"No, not at all." Cao Yisen suppressed his laughter. "My sister messaged me saying the house is ready and I can move in today."
Park Ji-eun paused for a moment, then revealed a genuine look of envy: "Your sister... is so reliable. How come your life started so smoothly? I'm so envious."
Cao Yisen shrugged, feigning composure: "Maybe she thinks it's embarrassing for me to stay in a hotel."
"You don't want Versailles." Park Ji-eun gently patted his shoulder. "Alright, you should leave early today. Don't drag out moving."
"I also want to leave sooner," Cao Yisen sighed. "But now I'm afraid she'll ask me why I have so little luggage. Because I really only have one suitcase."
Park Ji-eun laughed out loud: "That's even better, moving is like a business trip."
Cao Yisen didn't stay until the end of the workday; he left two hours early.
When he walked out of the company building, the afternoon in Seoul was already a bit chilly, with a slightly damp air in the wind. Car lights along the roadside lit up one by one, like the city slowly awakening.
He went back to the hotel first. He swiped his room key, the door opened, and the makeshift room instantly seemed remarkably simple. The bed was neatly made, and on the table were his laptop and several half-finished bottles of water. Cao Yisen stood in the doorway for two seconds, then suddenly found it quite amusing—
He's only lived here for a few days, and he's already moving out.
"okay"
Cao Yisen muttered something to himself, then pulled out the suitcase and began packing.
There wasn't much to pack. A few pieces of clothing, a bag of toiletries, a laptop and notebook, a charger, plus a bunch of snacks he bought at the convenience store. As he zipped up the jacket, he even glanced around the room with a hint of reluctance, as if to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
No.
He stood the suitcase upright, patted the top of it, and snapped his fingers: "Perfect! Let's go."
As he went downstairs, the receptionist greeted him politely. He nodded and thanked her, then dragged his suitcase to the side of the road and hailed a car.
"Please go to this address." He handed over the phone.
The driver glanced at the GPS and nodded, "Okay."
The car started moving, and the city's neon lights flashed past the window. Cao Yisen leaned back in his seat, holding his phone, staring at the address his sister had sent, a sudden sense of anticipation rising within him.
He thought for a moment and then sent Cao Rou a message about getting a haircut.
I'm off.
I don't have much luggage, so please don't laugh at me.
The other side replied quickly:
Why would I laugh at you?
Hurry up and come.
I ordered takeout.
When Cao Yisen saw the message "I ordered takeout," he felt relieved and was finally free from the torment of that charred dish.
He put his phone away, looked out the window, and couldn't help but chuckle softly.
As the taxi turned onto a quieter section of road, the lights outside the window became noticeably cleaner.
It wasn't the kind of neon-lit shopping street with its chaotic lights, but rather the orderly streetlights below the buildings. The cars parked on the side of the road also looked more understated, without any flashy modifications, mostly just simple black, white, and gray.
The driver started chatting naturally while turning the steering wheel.
"Hey, young man."
He glanced at Cao Yisen in the rearview mirror and said in a warm tone, "Your address... is pretty good."
Cao Yisen hummed in response, not quite understanding.
The driver chuckled, speaking in a tone that suggested he'd seen it all before: "This building is very high-end. The kind of place most people can't afford. You're a white-collar worker, right? You're dressed very formally, and your demeanor is that of an office worker."
Cao Yisen looked down at himself—he hadn't taken off his suit jacket yet, and his suitcase was at his feet; he did indeed look like someone who had just gotten off work and was going home.
He was a little embarrassed, but also found it funny.
"This is not my home."
He honestly distanced himself from the situation, saying, "It's a relative's house. I just went there for a visit."
"My relatives are quite impressive too."
The driver immediately answered, "Buildings like this are for either company executives, celebrities, doctors, lawyers... basically, not ordinary people. Look at this neighborhood, you have to swipe a card at the entrance, and some even have security guards."
Cao Yisen was taken aback.
He didn't really have a concept of the different grades of buildings in Seoul. In his previous life, he came to Korea more for work and investment, and his accommodations were always arranged by his company. He stayed wherever was convenient and never seriously studied "what grade of building this is".
What's more, in this life he woke up in Busan and had only been in Seoul for a few days, and he didn't even know all the subway lines yet.
He could only casually reply, "Really? I don't really know either."
The driver, as if hearing a typical "rich person's remark," immediately laughed even wider: "Judging from your tone, this is definitely not the first time you've stayed in a nice place. You young people are really something these days, living in buildings like this just a few years after graduation."
Cao Yisen silently complained to himself: I don't even know if I'm renting the house now.
But of course he wouldn't explain such details to the driver, and could only continue following the "relatives' house" setting.
"I'll stay here for a few days."
He said, "I just came to Seoul for work and haven't found an apartment yet."
"Oh—new to Seoul?"
The driver nodded, as if he instantly understood. "Your relatives really dote on you. It's hard to find a place in Seoul, especially a decent one, and the deposit is terrifying. Renting the whole place is even worse... tsk, ordinary people really can't afford it."
Cao Yisen hummed in agreement, but his heart was inexplicably touched by the phrase "your relatives really love you."
He recalled Cao Rou's matter-of-fact tone when she sent him the message about getting a haircut—"The house is all taken care of, come and stay, don't go back to the hotel." She didn't mention how many procedures she had handled or how much deposit she had paid; she just arranged it like it was a very ordinary matter: "Just come."
The car drove a little further, and in the distance, a residential building with neater lights and a clean facade came into view. The driver slowed down and pointed ahead.
"Look, that's the building."
He said with a hint of admiration, "This building is clearly not ordinary. Your relative must be quite powerful."
Cao Yisen stared out the window for two seconds, with only one thought in his mind:
What exactly did my sister do behind my back?
He nodded calmly, feigning nonchalance: "Yeah, I guess so."
The driver parked the car smoothly in the temporary parking area at the entrance, turned around and smiled, saying, "We're here. Take care. Young man, life in Seoul isn't easy, keep going. You look good too, maybe you'll be even more successful in the future."
Cao Yisen almost laughed at the comment "good-looking," paid the fare, and got off the bus with his suitcase.
As the car door closed, he heard the driver mutter, "A relative's family... this relative is too awesome."
Cao Yisen stood downstairs and glanced up at the streetlights. The wind was a bit chilly, and the reflection of the streetlights on the building's glass made it look cold.
He suddenly felt a little guilty.
It wasn't that he was afraid of staying in a good place, but rather that he was afraid that when he walked in, Cao Rouli would casually say, "It's very cheap," and he wouldn't even dare to ask how "cheap" it actually was.
He pulled his suitcase toward the access control, and another message popped up on his phone from Cao Rouli.
Have you arrived? I'll come down to meet you.
Cao Yisen looked at the line of text, replied, and his unease subsided somewhat.
"Never mind," he muttered to himself with a self-deprecating laugh. "I'll just treat this as a visit to relatives."
Then he looked up and walked towards the door.
Cao Yisen stood by the roadside, looked up at the building, and his first reaction was not "high-class", but rather - it was well hidden.
The entrance isn't on the main road, nor does it have an extravagant signboard. Instead, it's located on the side of an alley, in a rather inconspicuous spot. From the outside, it looks unremarkable, but once you get closer, you'll find that the security access behind the glass door is quite strict. The lights are clean, the glass looks freshly wiped, and the glass door itself is spotless.
Cao Yisen pulled his suitcase toward the door and stared at the card reader on the glass door for two seconds.
He didn't have a card.
He didn't have a password either.
He couldn't even find an option like "ring the doorbell".
So he could only stand respectably at the door, like a passerby who had come unexpectedly but was too embarrassed to speak. As he stood there, he felt like he was filming some kind of urban drama: the male lead was stood up by the female lead, and he was standing downstairs at a high-end apartment building waiting for someone, dragging a suitcase in his hand. If he had a slightly more refined demeanor, they could have started filming right away.
But the reality was—he really couldn't get in. He started lingering at the door. Two steps to the left, two steps to the right, then back to the door, pretending he was just "passing by" and checking his phone.
He took out his phone and messaged Cao Rou about getting her hair cut.
【I have arrived. 】
Please come quickly, or I might be arrested as a suspicious person.
After sending the message, he put his phone back in his pocket and glanced at the access control again. In the reflection of the glass, he saw himself: a suit jacket, a suitcase, relatively neat hair, and a face that screamed "I'm innocent."
Logically speaking, this setup looks like something a white-collar worker would wear.
The problem is that the entrance to this building is so inconspicuous that even if you're dressed very formally, you'll look like you're staking out a spot.
Just as he was swaying for the sixth lap, the security guards in the lobby finally made a move.
A doorman in uniform pushed open the door and came out. He didn't walk fast, but his direction was clear—he was heading straight for him.
Cao Yisen's heart tightened.
Oh no, I'm going to get kicked out.
The doorman took two steps closer, his gaze first sweeping over the man's suitcase, then his face, and finally settling on the phone in his hand. His eyes clearly conveyed: Who are you waiting for? What do you want?
Cao Yisen quickly held up his phone, preemptively striking while smiling politely.
"Hello, I'm waiting for someone."
He said in a tone that said, "I'm definitely not here to cause trouble," that "my friend lives here, and she'll be coming down to pick me up soon."
Doorman didn't believe it immediately; his eyes became more cautious, and his tone was calm but carried a sharp, cautionary edge.
"You can't stand here for long."
He paused, then added, "And don't take any photos."
Cao Yisen immediately raised his hand to show his support: "I didn't take any pictures, I really didn't take any pictures."
He even subconsciously flipped his phone screen outwards to prove that he hadn't turned on the camera.
This glance was significant; Doorman only relaxed slightly after seeing the Korean address and location on his phone's chat interface.
But it was only "a little bit".
He had clearly seen plenty of people like that.
The building's excellent privacy suggests that its residents are not ordinary people. And if the residents are not ordinary people, it means there will never be a shortage of people "hoping to bump into" them at the door.
Cao Yisen—over 1.8 meters tall, well-dressed, and with a rather handsome face—was loitering at the door, dragging a suitcase. Although he was decent-looking, how could anyone tell he wasn't the kind of fan "preparing to wait at the door until dawn"?
They might not even be ordinary fans.
It's the more complicated kind, a private meal.
Cao Yisen read this meaning in the doorman's eyes and felt both amused and exasperated.
How did I go from being a "white-collar worker" to a "sasaeng fan"?
He quickly tried to salvage the situation, his tone becoming more sincere: "Really, I'm not a fan. I just... came to help with my luggage."
Doorman looked at him for two seconds, as if assessing the credibility of his statement.
Then he suddenly asked, "Who are you waiting for? Name?"
Cao Yisen was stunned.
He certainly couldn't just shout "Cao Rouli" by name at the door—there might actually be quite a few celebrities in this building, and shouting it out would only make him look like a fan waiting for someone. Besides, he wasn't sure how sensitive the area was about resident information.
So he could only vaguely say, "...a relative who lives in this building."
The doorman's eyes immediately turned cold again.
"relative?"
The tone was as if to say: This is how you sasaeng fans make things up now.
Cao Yisen almost choked on his own words. Just as he was about to explain again, he suddenly heard a series of hurried footsteps behind him.
"Hey—Cao Yisen!"
The voice was bright and familiar, with a slight panting, as if the person had jogged down the street.
Cao Yisen turned around.
Cao Rouli was wearing a hat and a mask, but her eyes were bright. When she ran up to him and stopped, she first glanced at his suitcase and then at the doorman, as if she instantly understood what had happened.
She naturally took Cao Yisen's arm, her tone particularly self-assured, with a hint of smugness:
"Have you been waiting long? I was just looking for the keys upstairs."
After she finished speaking, she added, "He's my brother."
The doorman's expression visibly stiffened for a moment.
Cao Yisen could even feel the awkwardness in the air as the "misunderstanding was cleared up".
The doorman immediately resumed his professional smile and nodded: "Okay. Welcome."
As Cao Rouli swiped her card, she glanced sideways at Cao Yisen and whispered, "Why are you standing at the door daydreaming? Can't you make a phone call?"
Cao Yisen lowered his voice and replied, "I called. You didn't answer." He then innocently shrugged.
Cao Rouli exclaimed, "Ah, I didn't see it just now, Mia Mia."
The access control beeped, and the glass door slid open slowly.
As Cao Yisen dragged his suitcase inside, he couldn't help but glance back at the doorman. The doorman was also looking at him, the wariness in his eyes not completely gone.
Cao Yisen sighed silently, inwardly muttering to himself:
This building does a really good job of protecting privacy.
It was so good that I, a legitimate guest, was almost mistaken for someone staking out the place.
As soon as the glass door behind me closed, the sound of the wind outside was immediately blocked, as if I had suddenly entered another world.
The lobby wasn't large, but it was quite luxurious. The lighting was a warm white, not glaring, and it reflected a faint glow on the floor. The floor was so clean that you'd instinctively want to rub your shoes against the door. The walls and ceiling were also well-matched, without the ostentatious gold of a mansion, but rather a more understated "I don't need to tell you I'm expensive" kind of thing.
Upon entering, you're immediately faced with the reception desk, its surface flat, behind which are neatly arranged storage compartments and a security monitor. To the right is a waiting area with several dark sofas surrounding a low table. On the table sits a magazine and a small vase; the flowers aren't vibrant, but they're clearly not the cheap plastic kind you'd find in a convenience store. Next to the sofas is a floor lamp, casting a soft light, seemingly designed for people to relax while waiting.
Cao Yisen dragged the suitcase inside, the wheels making almost no sound on the ground.
The doorman followed him in, his attitude noticeably more relaxed than at the door, but the procedures remained the same. He walked to the front desk and politely asked, "Please confirm the resident's name."
Cao Rouli gave her name naturally. The doorman nodded, casually operated the visitor registration screen at the front desk a few times, and then looked back at Cao Yisen, as if to confirm routinely: You did come with her, and you didn't just sneak in.
He then stepped aside to make way, speaking in a very professional tone: "Okay. Visitors can go upstairs. If a package arrives, it will be placed in the collection area here, or we can assist in notifying the resident."
Cao Yisen listened and clicked his tongue inwardly.
It turns out that the wary look at him at the door earlier, as if asking "Are you a sasaeng fan?", wasn't just his imagination—this building genuinely treated "visitors" as a job. You can't blame him, right? After all, it's his job.
As he dragged his suitcase toward the elevator, he glanced at the area to the side of the reception desk. Sure enough, there was a row of parcel lockers and temporary storage racks there, with several notices posted next to them: rules such as large items need to be registered, takeout is not allowed upstairs, and visitors must be escorted by residents.
Cao Rouli walked ahead and complained to him in a low voice, "There are a lot of rules here, but that's good, at least no one will run up here randomly."
Cao Yisen nodded: "If you had been two minutes slower, I might have already been taken to make a statement."
Cao Rouli chuckled and gently patted his arm: "You deserve it. Who told you to stand around at the door like that?"
The elevator was at the end of the corridor, with a clean brushed metal facade and a card reader next to it. Cao Rouli swiped her card, and with a "beep," the elevator doors lit up and slowly opened.
Once inside, Cao Yisen's first thought was: even the elevator is quite high-end. Cao Rouli swiped her card on the panel, and the floor buttons changed from "gray" to "selectable." She pressed a floor button, and the elevator began to ascend.
Cao Yisen stood to the side, his gaze sweeping over the card reader area, floor panel, and cameras, and couldn't help but click his tongue softly.
"What are you clicking your tongue about?" Cao Rouli asked, turning her head to the side.
Looking at the panel, Cao Yisen said with a tone that was half sarcastic and half admiring, "It's nothing. It's just that I feel—this little Han has certainly learned a lot about capital from the United States."
Cao Rouli paused for a moment, then laughed: "Oh! You're at it again. Do you have to criticize other places for 'learning from America' every time you go somewhere?"
"This isn't an evaluation," Cao Yisen said seriously, "it's an observation. Access control, visitor verification, package collection, elevator card-based floor selection... this system is very similar to the apartment I used to live in when I was studying abroad."
After listening to him finish speaking, Cao Rouli gave a soft hum: "Then just treat it as experiencing life. Don't keep comparing this place to New York."
Cao Yisen smiled and said, "I've already been very restrained."
The elevator continued to ascend, the numbers jumping from floor to floor. Cao Rouli stood beside him, her hat pulled low and her mask covering half her face, yet her aura was relaxed—as if she knew this place well, and as if she had finally led him into a "safe zone."
Cao Yisen pulled the suitcase, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the handle. The unease that had started at the door slowly subsided.
At least now, he doesn't have to loiter outside the door anymore.
-----------------
At the same time, the room upstairs was filled with an atmosphere of "pre-battle mobilization".
The living room wasn't big, but it was temporarily transformed into a "celebration site": balloons, disposable confetti cans, fruit platters, a large bag of fried chicken, and beer and soft drinks that no one could say for sure who ordered, piled up on the coffee table.
"Hurry, hurry, they could come up at any moment!"
A girl with a slightly duck-like face sat cross-legged on the carpet, holding a bag of ribbons in one hand and scissors in the other. "Inflate that balloon a little bigger, don't be lazy."
The girl she was criticizing was still chewing on a snack, a far cry from her innocent and adorable image in front of her fans. She mumbled indistinctly, "You try blowing it? That's really tiring, okay??"
The girl with the duck-like face rolled her eyes at her: "I'm in charge of the surprise segment later, okay? I'm the main firepower. Good luck!"