Lin Yuan quickly stepped forward to stop them, "Uncle and Aunt, I'm not hungry, don't make it."

Zhang Jinhua glanced back at Lin Yuan and said with a smile, "You child, you've been on the train the whole time, how can you say you're not hungry? Making rice noodle soup will be quick, it'll be ready in a bit. Let Huanhuan take you to see her room first, you can sleep in her room tonight."

Lin Yuan was taken aback. Huh?

Upon hearing this, Zhao Huanhuan immediately jumped over, "No way, Mom, if he sleeps in my room, where am I supposed to sleep?"

Upon hearing this, Lin Yuan breathed a sigh of relief. He was terrified; he had misunderstood. He had thought it was a test from his future in-laws.

"Go sleep on a makeshift bed in our room!" After saying that, Zhang Jinhua gave Zhao Huanhuan a squinty smile and went into the kitchen.

Zhao Huanhuan silently turned around and met Lin Yuan's apologetic gaze, then sighed softly, "Never mind, let's go in and see my room."

Upon entering the Zhao family's house, you'll find the living room, with the kitchen directly behind it. To the west of the kitchen is a small study, and in front of the study is a bedroom.

The bathroom is to the east of the kitchen, and there is a bedroom in front of the bathroom.

The house is quite spacious and bright. Both the east and west bedrooms are sunny. The Zhao couple lives in the west bedroom, while Zhao Huanhuan used to live in the east bedroom.

Lin Yuan thought about sleeping on the floor, but when she looked at the Zhao family's living room, there was a set of 112 sofa chairs against the east wall, with a coffee table in front of them, and the floor space was not large.

Near the window upon entering, there is a dining table and four chairs. Against the west wall, there is a cabinet with a radio on it. On either side of the radio are some small trinkets, some ceramic and some wooden.

Above the radio, on either side of the wall, hung two large wooden photo frames, each containing a large frame composed of photos of the family.

At this time, the largest photos were only two inches, and most were one inch. Therefore, a large photo frame would contain a dozen or even dozens of small photos.

To see the people in the photos clearly, you have to get close, and they're all black and white.

Looking at it this way, the Zhao family's living room doesn't seem very big, and it seems there's no place for him to sleep on the floor.

The two of them silently went into Zhao Huanhuan's room together. They saw a single bed against the back wall, and two large paper paintings on the back wall, the kind with an eighteen-square grid, which should be story-like.

Along the east wall between the head of the bed and the window, there was a set of cabinets of different heights. The tall cabinet had double doors and was probably a wardrobe, while the low cabinet was the height of a writing desk. At that moment, a row of books was neatly stacked on the desk, along with a wooden pen holder containing two calligraphy brushes, two fountain pens, two pencils, and two ballpoint pens.

The pens always came in pairs; this detail wasn't only noticed by Zhao Huanhuan, but also by Lin Yuan.

The two exchanged a glance, and Lin Yuan asked curiously, "Why are all your pens kept in pairs here?"

Zhao Huanhuan didn't know why the original owner did this, but she gave her own explanation: "When I was little, my parents always bought me pens in pairs, and later when I bought pens myself, I also got into the habit of buying them in pairs."

Lin Yuan chuckled after hearing this, realizing that's how it is.

It's clear that the Zhao family has a very good family atmosphere, and the Zhao couple dotes on their daughter. Buying two pens is understandable.

For dual-income families who only have one daughter, it's true that they can buy her double the things they need.

According to Zhao Huanhuan, her parents are both employees of Team 522.

Zhao Huanhuan opened the cabinet, squatted down, took out a bed sheet from underneath, and turned around to make the bed.

Lin Yuan quickly came over to help.

Zhao Huanhuan took out a pillowcase from the cabinet and laid it on the pillow. Then she took out a quilt from underneath and said to Lin Yuan, "The quilt is dry. My mother should air it out often."

Lin Yuan shook her head, "You can use the blanket tonight, I'll just cover myself with my clothes."

Having slept in her bed, I felt embarrassed to take her blanket anymore. "You should go to your parents' place and sleep on the floor; it might be cold there."

Zhao Huanhuan smiled and said, "You can use this. My parents still have some. When my grandma came to visit, I would often sleep on the floor there and let my dad stay in his bedroom."

That's how it is when you live in a small house; your own room isn't always yours, and you often have to give it up as a guest room. Luckily, Zhang Jinhua is a thoughtful person, and she has extra blankets, pillows, and mattresses.

Besides the main house with two entrances, there is only a small south-facing room in this courtyard. The Zhao family used it as a granary, storing the grain allocated by their work unit and their own reserves.

The couple's bicycles, which they ride to work, are parked in the shady spot by the windowsill of the south-facing room in the yard.

Lin Yuan sat on the stool, looking at the books on the table. Most of them were elementary and junior high school textbooks, along with some notebooks and extracurricular books, all clearly categorized.

Zhao Huanhuan stood beside him, looking at the neatly stacked books on the table. She could tell that the original owner must have been a girl who loved neatness and cleanliness.

Moreover, the original owner had graduated two years ago and worked for two years, yet she still kept these elementary and middle school books, which is truly remarkable.

Lin Yuan simply looked at the neatly arranged desk, too embarrassed to reach out and take her books or notebooks.

After looking at them for a while, Zhao Huanhuan reached out and pulled out all the notebooks. She then sat cross-legged on the bed and slowly began to look through them.

The previous entries seem to have started from the second grade, and at the beginning, many of them used pinyin instead of the words I wanted to write.

However, I didn't write in my diary very often at first, but I wrote more often when I was in fifth grade.

My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!