A moment later, the door opened from the inside.
He Tang, dressed in a cheap nightgown, stood in front of the door, at a loss for words.
He Tang was stunned at the entrance, unable to speak for a while.
After a long stare, He Tang finally stammered, "Wh-Why is it you?"
Jiang Yi didn't respond to He Tang's words. She pushed the door open and walked in herself.
The dilapidated house wasn't large, all in all probably no more than 60 square meters. The furnishings inside all seemed rather old, and although they were kept clean and tidy, the years had left their marks, evident on the washed out white tablecloth.
In the living room, there was only a set of orange double-seater fabric sofas, with a cat-ear hair clip placed on one side of the armrest. The house didn't even have a TV. The tiny dining room held a table with four chairs and a transparent electric kettle above it.