Max's Apartment.
Faced with Max's murmurs, Adam just smiled without saying anything.
It was only natural that Max appreciated Caroline.
Adam didn't feel the need to comment much.
Everything should just unfold naturally.
And clearly, Max wasn't expecting Adam to say anything either. Mid-murmur, her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep.
---
Two Days Later. Morning.
"Should I call Adam again?"
Max and Caroline were getting ready to head out, but there was no sign of Adam. Seeing Caroline looking a bit disappointed and nervous, Max picked up her phone, ready to give Adam another call to hurry him up.
"No need," Caroline stopped her. "Adam's a doctor. He's busy. Let's not bother him. I'm just going to check on Chestnut this time… I'm already looking for a place. Once I find one, I'll bring Chestnut home. It's just that affordable houses with yards are hard to find."
Chestnut, Caroline's horse, was being boarded at a professional stable with dedicated caretakers, living the good life.
But that was before.
Now, Caroline could no longer afford such private horse care services.
Luckily, she'd paid for a full year of service upfront, so Chestnut should be safe from neglect until it expired… probably…
But the renewal date was fast approaching.
Caroline had to find Chestnut an affordable new home before then.
Max's apartment was nice, but it didn't have a yard, so Chestnut couldn't settle there.
"Damn it!" Max cursed. "When I bought this apartment, I had my eye on one with a yard, but Adam said first-floor units have bad surroundings—too much foot traffic and the risk of stuff falling from above. He told me not to buy it. Otherwise, Chestnut wouldn't have to worry about being homeless now."
"…"
Hearing this, Caroline was on the verge of tears.
If she rented, she'd probably end up with a place like that too. Just thinking about Chestnut stuck in a cramped backyard already broke her heart, and now there was the added risk of getting hit by something falling from above, potentially dying at any moment.
As Lu Xun said: Poverty limits imagination.
But he also said: Why not eat meat porridge? Wealth limits imagination too.
Chestnut was a thoroughbred Caroline's dad bought for her when she officially entered puberty. It held deep significance, and after raising it for nine years, she'd grown deeply attached.
In American TV terms, Chestnut was family.
And right now, it was the only family Caroline had left to keep her company.
Naturally, she couldn't bear to see Chestnut living in such a dangerous environment.
"Don't worry. We'll find Chestnut a good home," Max reassured her. "Worst case, I'll sell my current apartment and buy a standalone house in the suburbs."
American standalone houses usually have front and back yards. Settling Chestnut in the backyard might mean a smaller space, but it'd still work. It'd definitely be bigger than the backyard of a first-floor apartment in the city, and most importantly, there'd be no risk of things falling from above.
"Can we really do that?" Caroline looked at Max, touched that she'd so casually offer to sell her place and buy a new one for her.
"Why not?" Max waved it off grandly. "It's just a place to live. The suburbs actually have a better environment, more suited for my creative work. I only bought this apartment to be closer to Adam, making it easier for him to come and go."
"And now?" Caroline asked, feeling guilty.
"Now, it's not necessary anymore," Max said, smiling brightly at her. "Trust me, even if we moved thousands of miles away to Hollywood on the West Coast, Adam would still find time to come over."
"Max!" Caroline clearly understood what she meant. She brushed back her flowing blonde hair, lowering her head shyly. "You're embarrassing me."
"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Max shrugged. "Let's just not let him get too smug. As long as you're not into it, it's all good."
"…"
Caroline caught Max's nonchalant expression out of the corner of her eye, and her mind suddenly flashed with countless blush-inducing audio clips, sending her thoughts into a whirlwind.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Max noticed Caroline zoning out, her face flushed, and stepped forward to pinch her cheeks, snapping her out of it. "Stop daydreaming about sandwiches. We need to get going."
"Max!" This time, Caroline really couldn't handle Max's sharp-tongued, dirty humor. Her face turned beet red. 😳
"What?" Max spread her hands innocently. "Don't tell me you rich girls have never tried that kind of wild, thrilling state."
"…Oh, oh!" Caroline blinked, finally realizing what Max meant, and said awkwardly, "You mean those sandwiches we ate in college?"
Hmmm.
You know, the classic American college tradition—the kind Matthew and Ted ate together on their first day, the kind that makes you giggle uncontrollably because it's laced with something extra.
Rumor has it, this tradition's popularity has been growing year by year, surpassing 50% and racing toward 100%.
Those who get it, get it. 😏
Back when Max was scraping by at the bottom, she'd tried it too.
But after meeting Adam, and with his repeated reminders, she'd completely said goodbye to that kind of nonsense.
Besides, that stuff wasn't even as addictive as Adam.
If she had to quit anything, it'd be Adam.
"What else?" Max grinned mischievously. "You were zoning out, blushing, looking all blissed out, just like someone who'd eaten a special sandwich. If you weren't reminiscing about that, what else could it be?"
"Max!" Caroline's face turned crimson, and she covered it, running off.
Though she was no stranger to such topics, she still had to maintain her princess vibe. She needed to keep some level of decorum—how could she compare to Max, who spouted sharp-tongued, dirty jokes without a care?
"Wait for me! We're going together!" Max laughed, chasing after her.
"Get in the car, quick!" Max caught up to Caroline, who was walking ahead, honked the horn, and invited her in.
Though Caroline was mortified by Max's teasing, she still got into Max's car, and they headed toward the suburbs.
---
Caroline was a Manhattan girl, and her family's estate was naturally in Manhattan. Technically, she could've kept Chestnut at home.
But that's not how the rich play.
Their estates and mansions are for living in—keeping horses there just isn't appropriate.
And the solution is simple: buy another specialized stable estate in the suburbs.
Whenever you feel like riding, you go stay there for a few days. The rest of the time, a dedicated team of stable hands takes care of your prized horse.
These stable estates, since they're not in the city, are much more affordable for the same price, ensuring enough space for your horse to gallop and roam freely.
And the rich tend to cluster together.
Everyone's into horses, everyone buys stable estates in the suburbs, and soon, it forms a stable town.
Then, professional stables are established, managed by specialized staff, organizing professional riding competitions to enrich the leisure lives of the wealthy.
Hmmm.
It also provides better "quality education" conditions for those rich second-generation kids.
With all that time spent hanging out there, how could they not get good at riding?
Anyone with those conditions would probably do well.
It's simple!
Practice makes perfect!
The Channing family, of course, had an estate in New York's suburban stable town, but like their Manhattan mansion, it had been seized and auctioned off to pay debts.
Caroline only had time to transfer Chestnut's private care from their family's stable estate to a slightly less upscale public stable for boarding.
That's right!
The truly wealthy, in these already private places, still opt for even more private services, hiring dedicated teams to manage their prized horses.
Public stables, on the other hand, are for slightly less wealthy folks, giving them a chance to participate.
Even among the rich, there are levels, you know.
If everything followed the top-tier standards, far fewer people could join in on the game.
And if the scale shrinks, the fun shrinks too.
It's like in games—if there are no free-to-play players, what sense of achievement do the pay-to-win players have?
(End of Chapter)