The squirrel's jittery chatter made Yu Sheng subconsciously tilt his head to listen to the sounds outside the cottage, but all he could hear was the distant, feeble rustle of the wind.
The fire crackled in the hearth, and the wind outside was too soft to discern clearly.
These delicate sounds made everything seem unusually quiet, and a sense of peace and tranquility filled the candlelit cottage.
The layout of the room was simple and clear.
Upon entering, one could see a plain square table covered with a blue checkered tablecloth and two chairs beside it.
Against the wall on the opposite side stood a wooden shelf cluttered with various items, along with a tall wooden wardrobe.
In one corner was a single bed covered with a thick mattress, which looked quite comfortable.
To the left of the entrance was a window, reflecting the flames from the fireplace and candlestick, along with the silhouette of the squirrel as it hopped around.
Yu Sheng approached the window cautiously, the old wooden floor creaking under his feet.
He looked outside to find only the thick, endless expanse of the forest at night.