The shop sign had disappeared.
When Old Feng came back to this old house, he didn't see the shop sign.
He used to be a tailor in his own house. Part of his living room would be used as a place to sew.
Plus there were many products placed there, so there weas not much space for him to rest.
Nevertheless, it was spacious enough for Old Feng and his daughter to play around.
Old Feng found the key at the gap of the iron door… when he touched it, he felt jubilant.
But it was soon watered down by melancholy.
The key and the lock hadn't been changed---but nobody was living there.
And nobody came to visit… not even Xiaman.
Old Feng sat on the old-fashioned sofa, looking around the house, and those clothes hanging on the coat hanger.
They looked like a thick growth of grass.
Old Feng suddenly laughed.
He thought of something that happened during Xiaman's childhood.
