After eating the breakfast prepared jointly by Little Mother and Ye Tong, Yang Fan rode his three-wheeled scooter, carrying that cursed pot, to Wang Daqiang's house. Since his sister-in-law was there, he naturally couldn't continue things with Little Mother.
In the meantime, Little Mother frequently gave him several meaningful looks, but Yang Fan just couldn't understand what those looks meant, so nothing came of it.
The sunrise had already risen, and the scorching heat once again bathed the earth.
Walking into this familiar place again, Yang Fan couldn't help but feel a sense of unreality, as if everything that happened last night was indeed just a dream, filled with strangeness and blurriness.
After parking the scooter in front of Wang Daqiang's courtyard, Yang Fan checked the cargo, and after covering the pot with a plastic bag very securely, he walked toward Wang Daqiang's front door.