Dong dong dong… dong dong dong…
There was a knock on the door outside. Wang Ke, who was still sitting on the sofa in the living room, raised his head and straightened his clothes before walking to the entrance. He glanced at the monitor, and the camera outside captured a hunched old man.
The old man lowered his head, so his face could not be seen clearly.
Wang Ke wasn't prepared to open the door.
"Crack!"
The door opened.
Wang Ke took a step back while the old man appeared at the door.
A gust of cold wind blew from the entrance, and the surrounding temperature slowly dropped.
Slurp!
The plastic bag in the old man's hand dropped to the ground. Some pickled vegetables, some onions, ginger, and garlic spilled out.
"I'll cook later."
The old man's voice was rather soft. It was not like a girl's voice, but more like the sound of his throat being filled with liquid.
