"You live in a place like this?"
The moment Catherine walked in the door, she arrogantly commented on Don Quixote's house on Bei Ling Ridge, "I thought you'd made a comeback, but this place is just so-so."
Don Quixote stood at the door, showing no intention of inviting her in for a cup of tea.
In fact, if he'd had a teapot handy, he probably would have thrown the tea right in Catherine's face.
As soon as she came in, Lily shrank behind Don Quixote, gripping his pants tightly and peeking at Catherine with half her head.
"If you have something to say, say it," Don Quixote said coldly. "If you're here to start a fight, don't do it in front of the child."
Catherine waved a hand in front of her nose in disgust, as if the air were thick with the stench of poverty. She scanned the room's old furniture and slightly cramped layout with contempt, her eyes finally landing on Don Quixote's faded, washed-out shirt.
