People can intuitively feel that this is a person who pays great attention to hygiene and loves cleanliness.

She threw the used hand towel into the trash can, and then led the way, taking Shi Yan and Sheng Yuan into the house.

Pushing open the glass door, you need to take off your shoes to enter the room. The woman put on her pair of indoor slippers and was about to turn around to get slippers for the two people behind her.

Shi Yan was half squatting, and he opened the wooden shoe cabinet beside the door, took out a pair of brand new women's slippers, and placed them at Sheng Yuan's feet.

Seeing this, the woman paused, smiled slightly, withdrew her hand, and stood aside patiently.

Shi Yan waited for Sheng Yuan to put on her slippers before he got up to change his own shoes.

“…”

"She has been in pretty good condition recently, but she is still the same as before, not willing to talk or go out."

"When the weather is bad, she stays in the house to paint. When the weather is good, she moves her things to the yard to paint. Today the sun came out, and she took a half-hour nap. Now she is in the backyard."

The woman in light-colored work clothes walked in front, reporting slowly and clearly.

Sheng Yuan's hand was held by Shi Yan, and they were walking at the back. She looked up and saw that the corridor they were walking through had a wall on the right that was covered with oil paintings, including mountains, water, and trees, all of which were landscapes with gentle and warm tones.

After looking at all the oil paintings, Sheng Yuan walked to the end of the corridor. Through another glass sliding door, he saw the person who created these paintings, and the person the woman was talking about - "her".

The afternoon sunlight was warm, pouring into the cozy courtyard. A clear pond water flowed into it, and a dozen brightly colored carps were playing on the water surface or at the bottom of the pond covered by tender green leaves.

She had a gentle appearance, and her every move was as soft and quiet as the water of the south of the Yangtze River, but there was a hint of familiar coldness between her eyebrows.

The temperature was just right, and she was wearing a simple crimson velvet dress that reached her ankles. Despite being a very challenging color, it didn't make her look old-fashioned at all.

A metal clip held her hair back, and a strand of hair slipped out of the clip and hung down on her cheek, making her look a little messy.

Time has really left no traces on her face. Judging from her appearance alone, one cannot tell her real age.

"It's going to be windy soon, why don't you put on an extra coat?"

The woman leading the way frowned with concern and spoke to the woman in the yard, but the latter seemed not to hear her voice and did not respond.

Perhaps she had expected her to look like this. While she was speaking, the woman had already stepped out of the door, picked up the shawl hanging on the rocking chair, and walked over.

After the woman was wrapped in the shawl, the paint palette in her hand soon stained a corner of the shawl, which was unbearable to look at.

She didn't care at all, and even pretended not to see the person beside her covering her with a shawl. She continued to paint stroke by stroke, concentrating on her own business.

It was as if she only lived in her own world, and everything in the outside world was like air to her. (End of this chapter)