The wind stirred among the forest.
Fluttering the colorful flags on the booths.
Yan Wei quietly stepped back, silently guarding behind the people sitting together. His hands tightly held the gift he was about to give to Ziyue.
Ying Jing cradled the pretty stone in her hands, it was something she had outlined stroke by stroke.
"I won't give it to you even if it's nice; I want to keep it for myself."
He didn't ask how she knew he had come, and Ying Jing didn't say either. As soon as he sat down, she knew he was there without even needing to look.
The stone was not light, Ying Jing weighed it in one hand, concentrating all its weight on her palm.
Her drawing skills couldn't be considered good, and not worthy of showing, yet when she painted him, it was the most lifelike.
"How long have you been secretly learning to draw?"
Ying Jing walked beside him, not far behind was Yan Wei, who waited patiently for her to catch up. Her chatter and laughter lingered around.
