Boring

I returned to the cobblestone path. I walked further into it and it led to a bamboo forest. Deep inside the bamboo forest was a bamboo house. I walked towards it and gasped internally, my parents sure know how to enjoy themselves. I opened the bamboo door and the furniture inside was all made of bamboo.

I touched each furniture, they felt familiar yet unfamiliar, it was a strange feeling. I stopped before the bookshelf and touched every single book. They were my father's collection. I knew it without even knowing why. I also remembered the bookshelf serve another purpose! I studied the bookshelf closely before I went down to sit on the couch. The couch was weaved from bamboo. My father made it too. I just knew it. I walked out from the bamboo house. Ignoring the group of people following me, I continued my tour. Passing the bamboo forest, there was a small garden. It used to be planted with various precious medicinal plants, but now it had been abandoned.