Deng Weixia thought about Cheng Su's words all the way home, and upon reaching the entrance of his rented apartment, he took out a cigarette and squatted by the stairs to finish it before taking out his keys to enter.
Once inside, Deng Weixia immediately felt the difference between his home and Cheng Su's Household.
It wasn't about the quality of the house, but the atmosphere and feeling.
At Cheng Su's Household, it's clean and tidy, and being there feels comfortable and cozy, whereas his own home isn't very messy, but not that tidy either, yet coming in felt lifeless and suffocating.
His mom sat on the chair, her face dark and somber, with some indistinct emotion in it. She instinctively looked behind him when she saw him; realizing there was no one else, her brows furrowed, and her facial features scrunched together.
"Home?" the aunt asked him.
"Hmm?" Deng Weixia took off his shoes.
