Ye Qiu walked out of the room. It was a two-bedroom house, not very big, but more than enough for her and her daughter. The house was very clean, with not much decoration, especially in the dining room where the portrait of her late husband, Yuanan, was still displayed, giving it a somewhat chilling feel.
The original self had a somewhat obsessive remembrance of her late husband. Despite having passed away so many years ago, she still couldn't let go, even requiring her adopted daughter to greet his portrait every morning before going to school.
Ye Qiu thought that if any changes were to be made, putting away the portrait would be the first step.
"Sorry, but this is for my daughter." After putting away the portrait, she felt something was missing, so she went out for a walk, finally bringing back some warm paintings and a few potted plants. With just a few small changes, the whole place instantly felt cozier.
