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【阅读理解】Reading: A Stall, a Sign, and a Shared Risk
The kettle at Singing Kettle was not singing but crackling, and 54-year-old Lin Xiaoyu listened with her ear against the plastic handle.
'Terminal,' she said, 'the whole thing is terminal.'
Her tenant, 29-year-old graphic designer Zhou Kai, was not listening; he was staring at the lease.
Rent had gone up 18 percent in 2024 and another 9 percent in 2025, while his salary had not moved.
The landlord, a former textile baron from Fujian, had sent the notice by courier, with no ambiguity and no option—just a deadline.
Lin ran a snack stall outside the building, anchored there for eleven years: 6:20 a.m. to 1:30 p.m., 361 days a year, supported by a foldable table, two thermoses, and a crockery set bought second-hand in 2014 for 140 yuan.
The stall's specialty was soy milk and fried dough; her 70 or 80 regulars were mostly pedestrians heading to the metro, plus a few elderly tenants from the manor across the road.
The stall's vitality came from repetition, not innovation; she had tried a spiced version once, but intake dropped, so she returned to the old recipe and relied on muscle memory.
On a Tuesday morning in March, the building committee posted a regulation: no street vendors within 200 metres of the entrance.
The neighbourhood was being polished for a commercial arcade—glass, marble, a fountain shaped with geometrical precision—and Lin's stall was in the way.
She could not comply: no licence, no insurance, no formal address; in the language of the notice, she was an obstacle.
'I can help,' Zhou Kai said; he had empathy, but his bank balance was the problem.
'I have a cousin at the district office; he can listen.'
'Listen to what?' Lin said. 'My parents farmed; my father was a tenant on someone else's topsoil. I know where this ends.'
But she let him try.
The cousin did listen for forty minutes, then told them the truth: the decision was already made.
There was, however, one narrow path: the district was offering micro-grants of 30,000 yuan each, plus a six-month permit, to vendors who agreed to relocate to a designated market on Hengshan Road, 3.4 kilometres away.
The chosen applicants would be evaluated by a panel; the criteria were subjective, and the appeal process was theoretical.
There was also, he added, a preference for candidates who could demonstrate hygiene training.
Lin hesitated; she was furious, then pragmatic, then furious again.
A new stall meant new equipment: a stainless table, a proper cooker, a licence, training—22,000 yuan before she sold a single cup of soy milk.
She had saved 31,400 yuan over nine years; it would be gone in a month.
Zhou Kai did not sleep that night; he had his own problem—the lease.
He could move to a shared flat near the university, 11 kilometres east, and save 2,000 yuan a month, but he would lose his studio, a 14-square-metre room with sole access to the roof.
He was a designer; he needed light; he had, on a good month, four clients, and three had already cancelled.
'What if we share?' Lin said the next morning. 'I cook; you draw; we find a corner somewhere.'
'A corner where?'
'I don't know yet.'
They started looking; for two weeks they wandered the neighbourhood, elbows almost touching, arguing softly.
They found a former cloakroom at the back of a hotel, 18 square metres, no ventilation, asking 4,500 yuan a month.
They found a basement with drainage problems and a marsh-like smell.
They found a former stationery shop with a shattered window and a note saying the owner was bankrupt.
They found, finally, a narrow joint between a laundry and a pet shop on Fuxing Road—9 square metres, an old cork floor, sunlight for maybe ninety minutes a day; the rent was 3,100.
It was, in Zhou Kai's words, dreadful and splendid at once.
Lin ran the numbers; with the micro-grant plus her savings, she could afford eight months; after that, who knew.
She took the space; she bought a second-hand cooker from a restaurant that had closed; she painted the wall a pale tan.
Zhou Kai designed a hand-painted sign, and then, because he was short on rent himself, took a part-time job at an ad agency—16 hours a week, no benefits.
Opening day was 12 April; Lin sold 63 cups—less than half her old volume; she felt a burst of panic, then forced herself to breathe.
Questions
1. What was Zhou Kai's main financial problem at the beginning of the passage?
A. His rent had increased while his salary had not. B. He had to pay for Lin's new stall equipment. C. He had lost his job at an ad agency. D. His cousin at the district office asked for money.
2. What is the closest meaning of the word 'anchored' in the sentence 'Lin ran a snack stall outside the building, anchored there for eleven years'?
A. tied to a boat B. hidden from view C. fixed in place D. moved frequently
3. Why did Lin hesitate to accept the micro-grant and relocate?
A. The new market was too far from her regular customers. B. The grant required her to give up her old recipe. C. Zhou Kai refused to help her with the paperwork. D. Starting a new stall would cost most of her savings.
4. What can be inferred about Zhou Kai's decision to take a part-time job at an ad agency?
A. He took the job mainly to help Lin with her business. B. He no longer wanted to work as a graphic designer. C. He planned to quit after the new stall became successful. D. He needed extra money because his rent was still a burden.
5. Which of the following is the best title for the passage?
A. How to Apply for a Micro-Grant B. A Stall, a Sign, and a Shared Risk C. A Kettle That Would Not Sing D. The Fall of a Textile Baron