Sitting in the living room, in front of the French windows, holding "The Analects" in my hands, with the sunlight shining perfectly on the pages. Sometimes pondering, sometimes quietly reading.
Every dusk, I enjoy standing on the balcony, watching the sky gradually darken, listening to the hustle and bustle of the city gradually fade away, feeling the tranquility of being in a foreign land.
Nah, who needs some old rundown house? Ain't solo living just perfect?