The courtyard house stood at the end of an orchard lane, where a persimmon tree leaned over the gate.
Yan pushed the door open and stopped beneath the eave. The roof leaked near the kitchen; a dark stain spread across the floorboards, and a bucket waited under the worst drip. The outer wall needed a new beam. The two rooms were small, but the back room had a window that looked toward the orchard, and the door had a working lock.
Ning tried it from outside. The key turned without catching. She closed the door, opened it, then locked it again.
“It holds,” she said.
Yan looked at the iron latch. “That’s more impressive than the furnace wheel.”
The landlord, Ruo, laughed and offered them the key. “It needs repair, but the lock is sound. The silver price is written here. The furnace compensation is listed separately, and the land use stays with the village.”
Ning read the paper line by line. “The house itself belongs to us if we pay this amount. The orchard strip is a shared use plot, not private land.”
“That’s right,” Ruo said. “You can grow food there, but you can’t sell the trees or change the boundary.”
