Lala was an adventurous little girl with wide eyes full of wonder and a mind that never stopped asking questions. She was known for being curious, sometimes even a little too curious. If there was a mystery, Lala wanted to solve it. If something didn’t make sense, she would spend hours trying to figure it out. And lately, there was one thing that had been bothering her—Dad Quan’s house.
Dad Quan wasn’t really her dad. He was an old friend of her family, a kind and gentle man with silver hair and a twinkle in his eye. He lived in a large wooden house at the edge of the village, a house that seemed normal on the outside but had always felt a little… strange. Whenever Lala visited, she noticed little things that didn’t quite add up.
For one, the house seemed much bigger on the inside than it did from the outside. She was sure that she had counted the windows correctly, but when she went inside, there always seemed to be extra rooms that shouldn’t exist. Sometimes, she could hear faint whispers in the air even when nobody was speaking. And there was that one time when she set her notebook on the table, turned around for just a second, and when she looked back, it was gone—only to reappear in another room entirely!
Lala was determined to uncover the secrets of Dad Quan’s house. One afternoon, while visiting him with her parents, she decided to sneak away and explore.
She tiptoed down the long hallway, careful not to make a sound. The wooden floors creaked under her weight, but she continued, her heart pounding with excitement. She pushed open a door she had never noticed before. Inside, the room was filled with shelves stacked high with books, strange trinkets, and jars filled with glowing blue liquid. In the middle of the room stood a massive, ancient-looking wooden chest. It was locked, but the lock seemed rusted, as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
Lala’s fingers itched to open it, but just as she reached out, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned quickly and saw Dad Quan standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, but a smile playing at his lips.
“Curious, aren’t you?” he said with a chuckle.
Lala gulped. “I just… I was just looking. Your house is so strange, Dad Quan. It feels like it’s alive!”
Dad Quan nodded thoughtfully. “It kind of is,” he said. “This house has been in my family for generations, and it holds many secrets. But I was hoping you would notice.”
Lala’s eyes widened. “You were?”
Dad Quan motioned for her to follow him. He led her to a small door hidden behind a bookshelf. “Come,” he said. “Let me show you something.”
Lala’s heart pounded with excitement as she stepped inside. The hidden room was small but cozy, filled with old maps, peculiar instruments, and a small window that looked out onto a part of the garden she had never seen before.
“This house chooses who it reveals its secrets to,” Dad Quan explained. “And I think it likes you.”
“But why does it move things? Why do I hear whispers?” Lala asked, her voice barely above a whisper herself.
Dad Quan chuckled. “Some places have memories, and some houses have… personality. This house likes to play little tricks sometimes. It likes to keep things interesting. But it also holds stories, many stories, from long ago.”
Lala ran her fingers along the spines of the old books on the shelf. “Can I learn those stories?”
Dad Quan smiled. “If you’re patient, and if you’re willing to listen, this house will tell you everything you want to know.”
From that day forward, Lala spent more time at Dad Quan’s house, listening to the whispers, finding the hidden doors, and uncovering the many mysteries the house had to offer. She realized that curiosity wasn’t just about solving puzzles—it was about understanding the magic in the world around her. And sometimes, the strangest places held the best stories of all.
