Married to a wealthy family by mistake, the uncle spoiled her

Ai Fei looked at the blushing face of the person in front of her and smiled faintly: "I will look carefully."

Not only will it look great, she will also buy the house back.

She would help the Hua family get back everything that belonged to her grandmother, little by little.

Old Madam Qiao looked at Qiao Shen and said, "Take Miss Ji to have a good look. Don't neglect her."

Qiao Shen nodded: "Don't worry, Grandma,"

Looking at Ai Fei, he said, "Miss Ji, please come this way. I'll introduce you."

"Ah."

Ai Fei agreed and followed Qiao Shen to tour the house.

After passing through the fragrant garden, the first place you step into is the main hall, which is furnished with a complete set of huanghuali wood furniture. Although it is very old, it is well preserved and not stained at all.

There is a huge mahogany storage shelf on the side, on which are placed various antique items, each of which has a very old feel.

There are also several famous paintings collected by the Qiao family hanging on the side, and the long-lasting fragrance of books with ancient charm fills the air.

Ai Fei stood in the center, as if she saw her grandmother holding a tea party here.

She stood here in high spirits, talking cheerfully. All those sitting around her were admirers of her and unconsciously impressed by her talent.

Everything here is exactly as grandma described, except that the portrait hanging in the middle was originally a portrait of grandma, but now it has been replaced by a portrait of Old Mrs. Qiao.

When she was young, Mrs. Qiao would pick up flowers and smile softly, which gave off a strong sense of affectation and a sense of usurping power.

Qiao Shen watched her staring at her grandmother's portrait and smiled, "This was painted by the painter when grandma was young. It has been hanging here ever since. Grandma said this was the house she lived in when she was young, and everything is still the same as it was back then."

Ai Fei raised an inexplicable smile at the corner of her lips: "Well, Mrs. Qiao was so beautiful when she was young!"

Qiao Shen said, "Spring flowers and autumn moons, beauty withers and withers. No matter how beautiful, it will eventually age. Grandma has rarely come here in recent years, and now she wants to sell this house. I think she hopes that this house can find a destined person to help her continue to protect it."

Ai Fei said: "No one is young forever, but there are always people who are young. No flowers will bloom forever, but there are always flowers blooming.

Some things, rather than letting them wither and die in your arms, are better passed down to those with whom you have a connection and given them new life. Mrs. Qiao has such a broad mind, which is admirable!"

Qiao Shen smiled and said, "That's right, grandma, that's exactly what you meant. Miss Ji, let's look over here."

"Ah."

Ai Fei nodded, followed him out of the main hall, and looked back.

There is a new scene at every step in the corridor. There is a place to watch the rain, a place to appreciate flowers, and a place to cool off. There is ingenuity everywhere.

After passing through the hanging flower gate, we arrived at the living room at the back.

The master bedroom is connected to the study, which has a huge desk with pens, ink, paper and inkstone on it.

There was a long couch on the side, and on top of it was a small table with a plate of white jade chess pieces still on it, and next to it was a precious tripod with burning incense.

The smoke from the tea in the Baoding teapot is still green, and the fingers are still cold after playing chess in the secluded window.

The scene before my eyes is the embodiment of this poem.

Ai Fei seemed to see her grandmother leaning against the window when she was young. She picked up a chess piece with her delicate hands and lazily placed it in a corner. The trapped dragon on the chessboard immediately took off.

Outside the window, an osmanthus tree was in full bloom, its white petals covering the entire courtyard.

People are standing in front of the window, the flowers are falling, holding hands on the bridge in the deep spring after the rain, and playing the pipa alone in the autumn mood.

That year, the rubber king married her best friend, and she never hosted guests in this camellia garden again.