After a short cement slope, the front yard of the Dubian Family came into view.
It was a sturdy patch of dirt, so compacted that even on rainy days, there wouldn't be much mud.
On this plot stood a very ordinary two-story wooden house, shaped like an "L."
It looked quite old, a rarity in today's age, resembling traditional island architecture.
"The two of you, this is my home."
The three of them stood at the end of the cement road, just about to step onto the dirt front yard.
Kiyono Lin surveyed the house, noting its black tiles and a silver satellite dish on the second-floor window sill.
Plants that wouldn't die in winter were placed in front of the house and under the porch—rather than potted plants, they looked more like unnamed plants dug up from the mountains.
"Is that the Honda Cub you mentioned?" Jiutiao Meijie's gaze shifted to the storage on the left side of the house.
The storage was doorless, filled with farming tools and a red motorcycle.
