Hearing Xiao Tiantian's urging, Wang Chen snapped out of his daze with a smile and then also walked into the private room.
The private room in the farmhouse wasn't large or luxurious, but it was down-to-earth and had its unique characteristics.
At the entrance of the outer room, there was a wooden sofa from the eighties; the Eight Immortals table, chairs, and small cabinets inside all possessed a sense of age.
One could momentarily drift back to childhood, spotting many common old items from those days that had now become rarities.
The inner room was similar, with an earthen kang bed near the window and red paper-cuttings on the white window paper.
Atop the red cabinet was a wall clock with a steed perched on its top.
At exactly noon, the clock emitted a deep yet pleasant sound.
An old VCR was placed on top of the black-and-white television set.
