The wind of the twelfth lunar month was blowing on his face like a knife. Fu Xiao stood at the gate of the Shen family's old house, wearing only a thin shirt under his suit. Three inches below his collarbone, the old scar began to itch again. He raised his eyelids and glanced at the plaque on the lintel - "Shen Mansion". The two large gilt characters glowed coldly in the cloudy sky.
"Uncle, it's time to go in."
The housekeeper's surname was Zhou. He was in his fifties. His hair was combed meticulously. He didn't even raise his eyelids when he spoke, just looking down at the toes of Fu Xiao's shoes. Fu Xiao lowered his head and glanced at the pair of leather shoes on his feet. They were newly bought and he hadn't had time to open the glue yet. They were very good.
He said nothing and walked inside.
