The light was a bit dim, but Jiang Han could still see Aunt Su's appearance.
Her hair was a tangled mess, as if it hadn't been combed or washed for some time.
The clothes on her body also gave off a dirty look, a far cry from her former exquisite beauty.
As she approached, Jiang Han caught a whiff of a stench, and his stomach churned, nearly making him vomit.
Aunt Su quickly noticed her son covering his nose, seeming as if he was about to throw up. She stepped back in a panic, "Is the smell too much for you?"
She lowered her head in embarrassment, "There is no well in this courtyard. It took a lot of pleading before they begrudgingly got me some water to wash up."
Jiang Han waved it off, "It's fine."
He strode into the room, where a wooden table stood, topped with a coarse pottery teapot, several cups, and an oil lamp.
Jiang Han looked disdainfully at the two chairs. Aunt Su followed him in and said with a flattering tone, "The chairs are clean; I wipe them every day."
