Waiting for you at the place where you are reborn

The next morning, He Feng asked his driver to pick up Fang Zheng.

The car did not drive towards He Feng's home, but drove to an ancient alley in the old city. When the driver stopped the car, Fang Zheng got out and saw He Feng standing in the alley.

"Uncle He." Fang Zheng called out.

He Feng said to the driver: "Lao Hu, please find a place to stop and rest. I will call you later."

The driver drove away, and He Feng said to Fang Zheng: "Let's go, it's just ahead."

"Where are we going?" Fang Zheng asked.

"To see an old house."

Fang Zheng followed He Feng forward with doubts in his heart. Two minutes later, he stopped in front of the arched door of an old house and said, "We're here."

As he said that, he took out the key and opened the door. Fang Zheng looked inside through the archway and discovered that there was a different world inside.

It was a two-story garden house built during the Republic of China period. Next to the arched iron gate, there were a few beautiful words carved: Vanilla Garden.

The house is made of a mixture of cement and wood, with red wood and red bricks, and the exterior is exquisite and stylish. In the small garden of more than 20 square meters outside the house, there is a round marble flowerbed. Although it has been abandoned for many years and no one has taken care of it, you can still imagine the original prosperity of the weed-grown flowerbed.

Fang Zheng looked at the house curiously while following He Feng through the garden and asked, "Uncle He, whose house is this and why did you bring me here?"

He Feng said nothing and opened the door with the key.

Everything in the room was still intact, the red wooden floor, the mahogany sofa, the coffee table, the wine cabinet, the chandelier on the ceiling, and the red wooden staircase that spiraled up to the second floor.

Fang Zheng walked into the room and looked around. The house was quiet and elegant yet luxurious. It was old yet quaint. It was a bit out of tune with the times, but it made people think about it and was fascinated.

There was an old floor clock in the living room. Fang Zheng reached out and opened the cover of the clock face. The old clock had stopped moving long ago and was covered with dust inside and out.

He Feng walked to Fang Zheng, looked up at everything in the room, sighed and said, "Everything is still there except the people."

Fang Zheng looked at He Feng's expression in confusion and continued to ask: "Uncle He, whose house is this? Why did you bring me here——"

He Feng took Fang Zheng and continued walking upstairs, saying, "Let's go up and take a look." There were several rooms upstairs. Fang Zheng casually pushed open a half-open door. It was a study. There was a tall mahogany bookcase next to the window. The books in the bookcase were covered with dust. Next to the bookcase was an old-fashioned piano with black paint.

Fang Zheng walked to the window, which was made of wooden lattices and was very delicate. He stretched out his hand to open the window, and the dust accumulated over the years was raised in the air. Outside the window was a sycamore tree within reach. Fang Zheng stretched out his hand to grab the branches outside the window. It was early spring, and new buds had already sprouted on the bare branches, waiting to grow.

"Fang Zheng, do you like it here?" He Feng asked.

Fang Zheng smiled and said, "It's good. This house must have a long history."

He Feng licked his lips and said, "This is the house left by your great-grandfather."

"My great-grandfather?" Fang Zheng felt that He Feng was extremely mysterious, like an inexhaustible mine. "Why is the house in your hands?"

"In the past, you were still young, and there was no one in your family who could keep the house, so I was keeping it for you temporarily. Now that you've grown up, I should give the house to you," said He Feng.