Strange Dream in an Ancient House

Lin Mo held the yellowed registered letter and stood in front of the old house with green tiles and white walls, his Adam's apple rolled involuntarily. The September wind swept the fallen leaves like paper money, swirling under my feet. The house in front of me looked like a crouching old ghost. On the dark wooden door, the copper door knocker was rusty and red. From a distance, it looked like two balls of coagulated blood. "The last descendant of the Lin family is finally here."