The cold winter swept through the long streets, the north wind biting, and Jing City in January already had a frosty vibe.
Even with the bustling city, there was a hint of desolateness.
Lin Zhiyi got out of the taxi with her bag and quickly pulled up her aged sweater to cover half of her face.
As she turned around, she saw that the usually solemn gates of the Gong Mansion were festooned with lights and decorations.
It wasn't the Spring Festival; what was so important?
Lin Zhiyi greeted the security guard and quickly walked in.
Liu He was instructing the servants under the porch.
"Mom."
"Zhiyi, you're here. What's this? It's wrapped so nicely."
As she spoke, Liu He reached out to open the bag.
Lin Zhiyi immediately hid it behind her back, "It's nothing, just picked it up on the way. What's the occasion today? Why so grand?"
Liu He made sure that the servants had swept up the leaves before pulling Lin Zhiyi to the dining room.