Cheng Yuan's exaggeration almost made her burst out laughing. But it also seemed a bit awkward and sad because she was the only one laughing in this small living room.
Shen Mu sat quietly on a single sofa on the side, looking at her with a calm and firm gaze. She didn't find the situation funny at all.
Cheng Yuan's laughter died down and she picked up a tissue to wipe her nose, saying, "I don't have much to say."
Shen Mu looked around the old and shabby house, which was about 60 square meters. The furniture in the living room was old, magazines were scattered everywhere, clothes on the sofa were twisted together, and it was unclear whether they had been washed or not. There were also many takeaway boxes piled up on the floor.
She turned her head to look at the balcony, where the wall covering was peeling off, and dust and fallen hair were piled up in the corner, messy and chaotic at the broom.
Shen Mu asked, "Is this the life you want?"
