January 1st.
Chan'Er sat on the windowsill of her room, her feet dangling outside, gently swinging back and forth. She looked up, gazing at the blood-red phenomenon in the sky resembling a giant eye, her eyes trembling slightly, and her eyelashes fluttering with the wind. The sounds of the waves and the singing and dancing of the crew drifted past her ears.
Today is the New Year's festival. Celebrating the New Year is a joy even among cultivators.
Luo Qingyao walked in from outside the room, stood behind Chan'Er, covered her eyes with both hands, and asked in a playful voice:
"Guess who I am?"
Then, she saw a small hand slowly raise up from the front, with the index finger and thumb forming a heart.
Luo Qingyao released Chan'Er and flipped over to sit on the windowsill. Her high ponytail was instantly lifted by the wind, "Which family's little girl is so glum?"
Chan'Er had been low-spirited lately.
