"Yingying?"
Inside an auto repair shop, a middle-aged man stepped out of the break room and gazed at his daughter's figure by the entrance.
Although it's called the "break room," it's really just a few rooms separated by wood panels.
Closing the wooden door allowed for rest, stepping out meant work.
"Ah, Dad." Chang Ying casually responded.
Leaning against the window, she twirled a wrench in her hand, looking out at several figures at the crossroads.
"Your mom's calling you, it's late, come back inside," her father urged.
"The shop is protected by divine forces, what's there to fear?" Chang Ying did not turn around.
"You should come and lead us in paying respects, your mom and I don't understand it," her father said helplessly, unable to control his daughter.
In truth, as ordinary people, Mr. and Mrs. Chang could stay in their house during the night of the fifteenth thanks to their capable daughter.
