"Was it Aunt Pan who cleaned up?"
Jiang Chen understood immediately.
Fang Qing didn't say anything.
"Didn't I say it wasn't necessary to go to any trouble? If I come back, just tidying up a bit would be fine."
"My mom said, now that you have a girlfriend, no matter how successful you become, you'll definitely want to bring her home to see your place. It wouldn't be great if she came in and found the place a mess."
Jiang Chen was taken aback, the inexpressible feeling of guilt growing heavier.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but nothing came out.
Fang Qing sat down on the wooden sofa, where the red paint was largely aged and faded.
"It's okay, a few months from now, everyone will move away, and they won't have to worry about that anymore."
Jiang Chen also sat on the sofa, leaving a gap of two seats between them. For some reason, the atmosphere suddenly felt a bit stifling.
