The room was fairly clean, but the beach was definitely a mess.
There were a few houses nearby, though not many. Farther away was a salt farm.
I had no idea where this guy had found a two-story house, but it was clear that it wasn't new. On the contrary,
it looked very old—probably at least twenty or thirty years old. Quite a few places were damaged, but at least it was still
in livable condition.
Mo Buyan had tidied up a room for me. It was very clean. Originally, it must have been a really nice room.
It was right in the middle of the second floor, facing the sea,
and there was a balcony beside it. In theory, the view should have been beautiful, but the beach really ruined it.
After dinner, Buyan told me he'd cooked it himself. I never would've guessed he had that kind of skill. At any rate, it was
at least better than the food outside.
After dinner, I sat at the table and watched Buyan bustle around, clearing away the dishes. I wanted to help, and had just
started to get up when he sternly
talked me out of it.
"You're still recovering! You can't go moving around! Sit down. I've got this!"
So I could only watch him clear the table.
I listened to the water running in the kitchen and looked at the candle burning in front of me. We were so far from the city
that the power lines didn't reach here...
Of course, that was Mo Buyan's explanation. The salt farm not far away had electricity. As far as I could tell, he simply
hadn't been able to bring the power over.
I sat in a chair listening to a CD. By the time Buyan came out of