At the entrance of the small apartment, the biting wind swept across the stairs with a howling force. The security door was opened only a crack, just wide enough for two fingers. Someone poked their head out, warily eyeing Jiang Yanting.
He lowered his gaze, his pupils trembling almost subconsciously as he glanced at the doorplate on the wall.
He had not gone to the wrong place.
"Who... are you looking for?" came a tender, timid child's voice.
Though only a crack was open, he could still make out her appearance—twin ponytails, a white sweater, a red woolen skirt, bright eyes. Perhaps it was the heating inside, but her little face was flushed red, her features delicate and clean, as she looked up at him, her face full of wariness.
Her small hand tightly gripped the edge of the door, pale and delicate, with little white crescents at the tips. She still had some baby fat on her round, clean face.
"Uncle?"
