The Knight's First Expedition After Moving

Jose looked at the crumpled bills stuffed into his hand. His lips trembled for a moment before he finally accepted the money hesitantly.

"Thanks," he said solemnly. "This money... I'll find a way to pay you back."

"You planning to skip out on your debt?" Don Quixote let out a drunken belch, raised his glass, and teased, "You owe me money now. Make sure you live long enough to pay it back."

The two raised their glasses and clinked them together.

By the time night fell and the bar began to fill up, Don Quixote and the others had called it a night.

"Fuck, I thought tipping was the stupidest thing ever even before I lost my job."

On the way back, Don Quixote ranted nonstop to Li Wei about America's tipping culture.

"Did you see that waiter's attitude?" he went on and on. "Fuck! He had a sour look on his face the whole time while serving us drinks and snacks, then asked for a minimum twenty percent tip when it was time to pay!"

"8th Avenue is still better," he said through gritted teeth. "I know a Chinese-owned bar that doesn't charge tips. Sure, it's a little more expensive than this place, but looking at it now, 8th Avenue is still the better deal."

Li Wei wanted to laugh whenever this came up.

The drinks at this bar were cheap, but its tips were among the highest in New York.

When it came time to pay, there were only three tip options: 20%, 22%, and 25%. No matter how Don Quixote argued his case, he could only painfully settle for a 20% tip.

With the additional 8.75% tax, a meal that had originally cost just over two hundred dollars before tax ended up costing Don Quixote 265 dollars before they would let him leave.

If Don Quixote had not just received a month's salary in advance from Susan, he probably would not have been able to afford the drinks.

Li Wei gave Don Quixote's shoulder a consoling pat. "Take it easy. Don't we get to start a brand-new life tomorrow?"

Only then did Don Quixote realize it. He smacked his forehead. "Oh, right! We were supposed to move this afternoon!"

But everything had already been packed up, so the two could only go back, reopen the cardboard boxes, pull out their toiletries and bedding, and make do for the night.

At eight the next morning, Li Wei and Don Quixote carried their belongings out of the basement and set them by the roadside, waiting for the moving company's truck to arrive.

Compared to U-Haul, the moving company found everywhere in New York, Don Quixote, being a local, had found a Chinese moving company that was cheaper and more convenient.

The movers helped the two load their limited luggage onto the truck. Then Don Quixote started up his Toyota, which was practically falling apart, and drove all the way from 8th Avenue to Bay Ridge.

When they arrived in Bay Ridge, Li Wei felt that everything there was a cut above 8th Avenue.

Compared with 8th Avenue, which felt more like a labor plaza, Bay Ridge was more like the kind of neighborhood he associated with America—though it was still quite a ways from being a true middle-class neighborhood.

Still, the sounds and smells were much better than on 8th Avenue. There were noticeably fewer car horns, and far less of the nonstop noise that filled 8th Avenue around the clock.

Despite being closer to the sea, Bay Ridge did not have 8th Avenue's fishy seafood stench or the smell of garbage from unknown sources.

The moving truck eventually stopped in front of an unremarkable two-story building made of reddish-brown brick.

"This is pretty nice," Li Wei said casually as he stepped out of the Toyota's passenger seat. "Your boss treats you well."

"Yeah." Don Quixote scratched his head. "I was wondering why she wanted to rent this place to me too. She said that after it was converted from three bedrooms to two, it became harder to rent out. Price it high, and nobody comes. Price it low, and she doesn't want to rent it out. So she figured she might as well rent it to us."

"Mm." Without saying much else, Li Wei calmly carried a large suitcase in each hand and walked inside. "It really is."

The living room alone was much more spacious than their basement had been. There was not much furniture, but all the basic necessities were there, even a sofa.

Ninety percent of long-term rentals in America came without beds, sofas, tables, or chairs by default. Some places did not even provide ceiling lights, only light sockets for tenants to buy and install their own fixtures.

The house Susan had provided was clearly much more comfortable.

Light slanted in from the living room side, passing through half-open blinds and casting sharp stripes of shadow across the wooden floor.

The floor was not new, and it gave a faint creak underfoot, but that gave Li Wei a sense of solidity. The living room was rectangular, with a full row of windows facing the street. Outside stood neatly trimmed roadside trees.

"At least we won't be staring at other people's dress shoes through the window at night anymore," Li Wei said, turning to Don Quixote. "This place should be pretty quiet at night."

"So that's what you were thinking." Don Quixote came in carrying the box containing his armor. "I thought you spent every day looking through that tiny window to sneak a peek at passing women's underwear."

"Fuck!" Li Wei flipped him off. "Don't project your thoughts onto me."

Don Quixote burst out laughing.

Li Wei dragged his two suitcases upstairs and took a quick look at the layout.

Originally, the house should have had a master bedroom on the first floor and two small bedrooms on the second.

But after Susan took over the place, she had knocked through the two smaller bedrooms and combined them into one large bedroom, no less spacious than the master bedroom downstairs. The second-floor bathroom was beside it.

"At least I won't have to listen to you snore at night anymore," Li Wei said to Don Quixote after coming downstairs to the basement. "Are you taking the first floor or the second?"

Don Quixote was staring with shining eyes at the washing machine and dryer against the basement wall. At last, they would not have to go to a laundromat to wash their clothes.

"I'll take the first floor." He thought for a moment. "Let my knees live a few more years."

The house also came with a small garden behind the back door.

The moment the door opened, a draft swept through. The garden was not large. Stone slabs covered the ground, and a few uneven shrubs grew around the edges. Though no one had tended it carefully, it had not fallen into disrepair either.

The movers brought in the rest of their few belongings, and the house fell quiet.

But they were not done yet. Don Quixote had not lived in a proper house for several years. It took him quite a while to realize there was not even any toilet paper in the place.

He and Li Wei went to a nearby supermarket to buy garbage bags, tissues, laundry detergent, and other daily necessities. On the way back, they also picked up two boxes of pizza from Papa John's.

After dinner, Li Wei took a shower in the old but clean second-floor bathroom, threw himself into the bedroom, and happily rolled around on the bed.

Though it was only a little after nine, Li Wei could already faintly hear Don Quixote sleeping soundly.

The soft snoring carried through the first-floor ceiling, but it was at least fifty decibels quieter than it had been in the basement.

Li Wei's high Constitution and Spirit meant he did not need much sleep. He sat down at the desk in the bedroom, opened a Russian dialogue video, and studied it carefully.

Until—

A rustling sound came from downstairs.

Li Wei paused the video on his phone and listened closely.

It was the sound of Don Quixote putting on his armor.