The dusk was like a thin layer of rice soup, soaking Liuye Town half through.
When Mr. Zhou was standing outside the low fenced yard of She Yan's house, carrying the bag of sesame sugar cakes wrapped in rough paper, a strange, slightly bitter smell of grass and leaves was wafting from the yard.
Su Jiuli saw him first, and the wild vegetables he selected fell back into the basin with a clatter, splashing a few drops of sewage.
She subconsciously wiped her hands on her apron, and a proper, slightly awkward smile appeared on her face: "Mr. Zhou? Why are you here in person? Please come in!" Her voice was slightly higher than usual.
She Yan raised her head from the window of the hall.
He sat there with an old account book from a grain store spread out in front of him and a thin, hairless pen between his fingers.
The afterglow of the setting sun slanted across half of his face, outlining his overly calm brows and eyes with a hint of deep alienation.
He stood up, his movements were slow and slow, and he nodded briefly at the visitor: "Master Zhou." It was a greeting, neither overly warm nor indifferent.
"I'm here without permission, I'm here without permission." Master Zhou rubbed his hands and was welcomed into this shabby but extremely tidy main room.
The room was not big, with a table and two chairs, and some dried herbs piled in the corner. In addition to the bitter smell, there was also a faint smell in the air, similar to a mixture of old books and dust.
His eyes quickly swept over and finally landed on the open account book where She Yan was sitting just now.
