The third entry, Abandoned Residence of Ming Valley, March 1999.

Actually, it's my first time fixing a water pipe," Qi'an chuckled. "Seems like I have the potential to be a plumber."

Water flowed from the bathroom into the room, and the landlady hurried downstairs to find a mop.

Qianan leans against the porch, quietly watching her. But she is just gazing into the distance, unaware that she has become a sight in others' eyes.

The two-story European-style small building that has just been renovated is also transformed from an old house, with red brick exterior walls. The rooms facing the sea all have a semi-circular small terrace, adorned with beautiful iron flower railings and long louvre windows.

Under the lamp, line by line, word by word, time silently passes.

Emo got up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling blinds, leaning against the window and lighting a cigarette.

The left and right sides of the entrance of the abandoned mansion are adorned with artificial mountains and corridors for scenic viewing. Standing at the doorway, one can overlook the entire seaside.

Just before the heavy rain poured down, Aimo and Qi'an ran quickly through the overgrown and desolate courtyard and rushed into the half-collapsed porch.

That was just an excuse. I just arrived and haven't found a place to stay yet," Qian said while unconsciously flicking the pebbles on the ground with his toes, revealing a small gesture of someone who is not used to lying without realizing it.

With her reminder, Emir sneezed, and Qian finally realized it was cold. Looking at Emir's red nose, he realized it had frozen.

Both of them looked extremely disheveled, with their hair and clothes completely soaked. Neither of them looked any better than the other.

Emory shook his head repeatedly.

The villa building is divided into the main building and the annex. The three-story main building features the popular European design of that time. Although most of the front Doric Roman-style columns have collapsed, the grandeur of the past can still be vaguely seen. The walls, blackened by a fire, still retain some exquisite details that blend Chinese and Western styles.

Emo put on thick pajamas, sniffed, and took out cold medicine pills to swallow. ... Looking at the medicine box in her hand, Emo hesitated and thought, should she give it to the neighbor ... . ... While thinking, there was a knock on the door.

I want to type something more, but it seems that I have nothing to say. Qi'an was absent-minded for a while and then closed the computer.

Emo responded with a disdainful look, and without saying a word, opened the door, "I'll take you to taste local snacks tomorrow as a reward. Now, please come in!"

A dull thumping sound suddenly came from the next room, one after another in the quiet night, as if someone was demolishing a house.

Emerson smiled and said, "I always stay here every time I come."

"Do you like it?" Aimo leaned against the door, hands casually in the pockets of his jeans, with a clear and bright smile.

Her fingertips slowly stroked over the blurred words, watching the slender and graceful handwriting flow through her fingertips, as if it had come to life from the distant and dormant time.

The landlady led him upstairs while introducing him, "This used to be an old house, not as grand as those villas, but after renovation, it has become warm and delicate. Most of our guests are returning customers."

Long and slender fingers fly flexibly on the laptop keyboard.

A light blue handkerchief was handed to Eimer. This brand of handmade handkerchief is indeed rare, and nowadays, men who still use handkerchiefs are even rarer. Eimer smiled and took it, wiping away the dirt on his hands.

Upon closer observation of Qian's expression, I couldn't help but be filled with intense curiosity.

Therefore, please don't call me a writer. Emo made a gesture of begging for forgiveness, which almost made Qian laugh out loud.

Just read a short piece, any content will do. Qi'an's curiosity has never been so strong.

In this season, there are not many tourists. In the small inn, besides the landlady's family, there are only two guests. Among the five vacant rooms, two are being renovated, one is in the shade, and one is noisy outside the window, only the room next to Elmer's is the best.

Emo also laughed, "This is a good idea, maybe we will encounter a beautiful ghost tonight."

It was only half an hour, and the rain really stopped, and the sky gradually brightened.

Accidentally, my gaze fell upon a messy stack of papers on the table, covered in densely written text. This time, Qi'an had not yet spoken, but Emmer quickly stepped forward to block the table, not allowing him to see the contents of the papers.

What if I'm writing erotic fiction? Emo tilted her head and looked at him.

The room with a natural wood tone is arranged in a simple and serene manner. The bedsheet is as white as new, and a bunch of light purple and pale yellow wildflowers is placed in a terracotta vase on the wooden table. On the terrace, there are lounge chairs and a small wooden table, and the beige curtains are fluttering in the wind.

As their eyes met, Emo burst into laughter first.

The ivy vine pulled out from between the bricks in Qian's hand, and he casually asked, "Are you afraid of ghosts?"

This cannot be watched!

The hotel I'm staying at is not far, it's just at the foot of the mountain. Would you like me to take you there to have a look?

Awkwardly, Emo laughed and said, "The workers are on break and the boss lady doesn't know how to fix it, so I have to do it myself."

Qianbei leaned against the railing and said with a smile, "It's not just liking, it's love at first sight."

Emo couldn't help but give him a disdainful look, "Now it seems like everyone can be a writer, as long as they can write, they can call themselves writers."

Time flows like water, quietly flowing in the dream, flowing in that era of fragrant clothes and beautiful hair...

She lay down on the bed, turned on the bedside lamp, opened the old and yellowed book, and once again focused her attention to read from the beginning.

On the yellowed printed paper, it seems that one can still faintly smell the elusive fragrance of camellia flowers.

Look, I don't think this rain will last too long," Qian smiled and stood up, taking a deep breath of the fresh air after the rain.

Upon opening the door, it was Qian, holding a cold medicine box identical to the one in her hand.

Qian Jiuan has not lived in China for a long time, which is astonishing to hear.

Qi An listens quietly with focused gaze.

Hey, you came just in time. The landlady casually placed the toolbox into Qian's hands and shouted into the house, "Stop messing around, come out first. This kind of thing requires a man!"

This is the former courtyard garden of the villa. Next to the pond, there used to be a century-old banyan tree, which was burned down by a fire in the past. Fortunately, the camellia tree at the entrance escaped the fire and has been blooming as beautifully as ever.

The sea breeze blows the wind chimes on the terrace, producing a crisp sound. The sky has already turned pitch black.

In the narrow space, two people are close to each other, and their warm breath gently brushes against each other's temples.

Wearing Hello Kitty pink pajamas, Emo had a red nose due to a cold, with wet hair hanging down. She completely lost the cool and reserved demeanor she had when they first met, and her cute and innocent expression somewhat resembled the Kitty on her pajamas. Qianan suddenly snapped out of it, realizing that he had been staring at her impolitely. He quickly averted his gaze and turned his head to pretend to look at the room's decoration.

Qi'an took the needle-nose pliers from her hand and rushed in without even taking off his shoes.

"Ghost?" Emma was taken aback. "Of course, I'm not afraid. I don't believe in any ghost stories. They are all made up."

Qianxin picked up the book, only to find a yellowed booklet pressed underneath, with its elegant floral patterns faded but still exuding a unique delicacy, a style that immediately identified it as something from the past.

"Is it still early?" Qian raised his wrist to check the time, squinted his eyes towards the horizon where the sea and sky met, and saw the setting sun in the west. It was only then that Ai Mo realized time had passed by quickly without him noticing, and the sun that emerged after the rain was about to set. Qian smiled faintly, "If we don't head down soon, it will be dark. Do you want to camp out here?"

Everything was burned down, nothing was left. Qi'an sighed and stood up, looking at the desolate courtyard. He could vaguely distinguish the once tall fountain and the exquisite carvings on both sides of the steps. The three-story main building had almost completely collapsed, leaving only ruins on the ground floor. The tall Roman columns were broken into several pieces and lay among the weeds.

Qi'an couldn't help but chuckle and said, "Why did you have to hit the wall while fixing the water pipe?"

Both of them went back to their rooms and changed into clean clothes. The landlady also neatly tidied up the rooms.

Well, this!

Do you not believe that story? Qian turned to look at her.

The jet-black hair strands resemble a crescent moon, covering the forehead, perfectly blending with the shadow of her eyelashes, reflecting the misty charm of her almond-shaped eyes.

Qi'an burst into laughter and made an eager expression, saying "I couldn't ask for more."

Emo's room layout is the same as his, except for an additional rattan bookshelf.

"There is no masterpiece, nor is there a minor work," Emo shrugged, "I was just writing randomly for fun, there is nothing worth reading."

Qi quietly listened to her narration, stepping on the rubble beneath her feet, with a somewhat absent-minded expression.

May I have the honor of reading your masterpiece?" Qian An asked sincerely.

Qi'an was stunned, before she could retract her gaze, she had already lifted her head and their eyes met.

More widespread than writers are beautiful female writers. As long as their facial features are neat, they can be given a title. "Emmer blinked and smiled, "There are also those who are not considered writers, but can fake it. They copy from here and paste from there, and can still manage to 'write a book and establish their reputation', becoming very famous."

Let's go, while the rain has stopped, let's go down the mountain. He smiled and bent down to help Emma up.

Emo walked out of the porch and stood under the relief of the door pillar. He saw the lingering mist over the ruins not far away, giving off a surreal beauty as if time had suddenly reversed, and the past splendor reappeared.

Emofast quickly grabbed the booklet in his hand, his expression changed slightly, as if someone had touched a treasure.

Too big!

The two of them were stunned for a moment, then smiled at each other knowingly without saying a word.

No, it's not right. It shouldn't be like this. With a loud thud, Aimo threw the pen down, leaned back, and fell onto the bed, covering her face with a pillow.

There is no need for her to explain this, anyone can see that the bathroom is already flooded.

Qi'an was stunned, and after a moment of hesitation, he awkwardly asked, "Do you know if there are any good hotels nearby?"

Seeing Qian, Emma was startled, and she hurriedly tidied up her messy wet hair, "I was fixing the faucet..."

The night breeze blows in from the terrace, arousing deep contemplation.

As Emo led Qian into the dilapidated and messy courtyard, he casually explained the design origins of the abandoned mansion, astonishingly familiar with every detail, even more so than a tour guide. When Qian asked how she knew so much, she simply smiled and said, "I am interested in this place, so I gathered some information, which is readily available."

A girl's secret is sacred and inviolable. Qian raised her hands with a smile, making a surrender gesture and cracking a joke to dispel the awkwardness. However, Emo nodded unconsciously, seeming to treasure this booklet unusually.

Qi'an got up from the sofa and walked to the side of the partition wall to listen for a while. The sound insulation of the old house was not very good, and he faintly heard the sound of Aimo speaking, mixed with continuous knocking sounds. Qi'an opened the door and went out, and saw that the door of the next room was open. The landlady was standing in the room holding a toolbox, and there were constant banging sounds inside, but Aimo's figure was nowhere to be seen.

Qi'an tried to inquire: "Are you writing something?"

Are writers so rampant?

The landlady personally came to greet and opened the iron gate of the courtyard, and she was familiar with Emma as if they were old friends.

Emo introduced Qian behind her and said he was a new friend she met on the way. The landlady was not surprised, her attitude was friendly but not overly enthusiastic, making people feel like they were visiting a friend rather than staying at a hotel.

Don't worry, the rain shouldn't last too long," Qian smiled.

The sky darkened in an instant, and large raindrops fell heavily, quickly forming a curtain of rain.

Why did the diary stop here, and what happened afterwards?" She murmured to herself, tapping her forehead in distress. "What caused the rumors to evolve like this? How could there be a blank space of over twenty years between the past and present?"

Emmerton gazed fixedly at the night outside the terrace until a cigarette burned out.

The gaze of Qian was firmly attracted, and involuntarily reached out...

Scorched black marks, deep green moss traces, silently narrating the tragic past and the desolation of time.

The landlady pushed open the door, and Qian's eyes lit up.

This booklet is obviously old and yellowed, it cannot possibly be her own diary, so what is it that makes her treasure it so much?

The books on the shelves are also quite old, including heavyweight classical novels and old-style translated novels.

The night wind blows away the smoke and mist, swirling and fluttering, just like thoughts scattered under the timeless night sky.

It will be fixed soon!