Shi Yuhuan, holding Song Qinghuan's hand, walked through a narrow alley and finally stopped in front of an old, red brick house.
"Is this where you wanted to take me?" Song Qinghuan asked, looking at Shi Yuhuan with surprise.
Shi Yuhuan's gaze was somewhat complex, "What? Don't you like it?"
"No, I think the scenery is quite good, I'm just curious why you brought me here," Song Qinghuan replied, looking around.
Shi Yuhuan let go of her hand and unlocked the door to the room.
The small humble room contained only a shabby bed and an old table and wardrobe: that was all. Song Qinghuan stood in the center of the room, eyeing her surroundings.
But upon entering the room, she detected a faint citrus scent that felt refreshing. Even though no one lived there for a long time, one could tell that someone occasionally came to clean it.
