The community was a rather old residential area.
When Beauty first arrived here, accustomed as she was to the grand mansions and villas scattered across paris, she had been utterly stunned.
Who would have thought such a dilapidated neighborhood still existed in this bustling city?
Yet despite its age, the compound was clean and tidy, exuding a surprisingly cozy atmosphere.
The Dyson family lived on the fifth floor—no elevator in sight.
Every time she visited, she was tempted to kick off her high heels and climb the stairs barefoot.
The elderly gatekeeper knew her well by now.
Each time she came, he'd greet her warmly with a kind smile, even though he didn't know her name.
"Here to see your aunt again, girl?" he'd say.
And every time, Beauty would reply cheerfully,
"Hello, Grandpa!" before darting inside, her arms laden with shopping bags, never seeming to mind the weight.
Suddenly, her gaze snagged on a sleek blue sports car parked nearby.
