"My father grew up here, but I heard he didn't like it and didn't come back." Zhong Nuanyang looked at the mottled wall skin in front of her, she had heard a lot of stories about her grandparents these days, which were sometimes mixed with some memories of her father, but at that time, her father had a perverse personality and was unwilling to contact other children in the village.

"I feel as if I didn't know my father all along, and they called my father to me...... It's strange. Zhong Nuanyang felt a cold air coming, and unconsciously wrapped his clothes tightly, and Su Feng took off his coat and draped it over her after seeing it.

"I'm not cold, you dress obediently." Su Feng pressed the hand she wanted to shirk: "Did you freeze yesterday, if I didn't worry about coming to check in the middle of the night, you would have fallen asleep on the computer desk again." ”

Zhong Nuanyang knew that he was at a loss, pursed his lips embarrassedly, and pointed to the attic in front of him as if he was suddenly interested: "Let's go inside and have a look." ”

Su Feng nodded, followed her through the corridor, found the narrow and old entrance of the attic, pushed the door and walked in.

A smell of rotting wood and dampness came from the pavement, and no one in the attic had been in the attic for a long time. As soon as you enter the door, you will see the statue of Confucius hanging on the wall, and there is a small table of eight immortals against the wall below, with some incense burners, cups, and two rattan chairs on both sides, and it seems that the two old men often dip incense and drink tea here.

On the left-hand side is a long, narrow and compact wooden staircase, with many handrails broken, and when you step up the stairs, you start to squeak and sing, until the two settle in the attic, and the long "singing" with an aftertaste comes to an abrupt end.

Su Feng and Zhong Nuanyang stood at the entrance of the attic on the second floor, and found that it was a narrow and flat study, and a taller person like Su Feng had to bow his head and bend down from the moment he entered the door.

The bookshelves in the study have basically been emptied, I don't know if it is Zhong Nuanyang's grandparents, or Zhong Mei's masterpiece, only to see some thread-bound books discarded on the ground and a few inconspicuous porcelain on the shelves.

Zhong Nuanyang stepped through the thick dust, picked up the broken thread-bound books on the ground, and blew the dust on them. It was found to be a mutilated [Ziye Tongjian], and there was also a printed copy of [Morning Flowers and Sunset]. She flipped through a few pages and found that there were immature pen annotations on them, and it was clear that the handwriting was written by her father when he was a child.

Su Feng walked around the attic, opened a window facing the garden, and an air mixed with earth and sunlight immediately squeezed away the smell of decay and decay in the attic.

Zhong Nuanyang stood beside Su Feng and looked at the scenery outside with him, where he could directly see the busy figure of the village chief in the front yard, and the depressed scene of the entire courtyard was in full view.

"It's a nice place to study." Su Feng found two old futons near the wall under the windowsill, he picked them up and patted the ashes, found a direct sunlight angle and put them away, and pulled Zhong Nuanyang to sit down together.

Zhong Nuanyang sat in the empty attic leaning on Su Feng, basking in the warm sun, and he didn't understand why his father hated this family so much, and he didn't want to come back after running away for so many years, and he never even mentioned it in front of him.

"I love it here." Zhong Nuanyang closed her eyes and felt the years pass in front of her: "This is the most comfortable place in this house." ”

"Well, I guess your father thinks so too." Su Feng patted her shoulder and pointed to a row of small characters at the foot of the wall.

"Jongno study, idlers are not allowed to enter."