Jiutiao Meijie's voice was hoarse yet enchanting, a simple hum that resembled the most captivating melody in the world.
The air seemed to change with it, becoming melodious and undulating.
Dubian Che saw, the rose bristling with thorns, blooming exquisitely.
...
On the distant mountain ridge, a white windmill rotated leisurely clockwise.
The sun overlooked Misezawa Village.
It gazed upon the lonely, serene village, its gaze climbing from the walls to the rooftops, peeking into the houses through the cracks of windows and doors.
Inside the house, the colors that scattered across the hallway gradually darkened, showing faint hues of amber.
Time went by, and the sunlight turned into the evening glow.
Little Lian woke up.
"Restroom... restroom..."
Rubbing her eyes, she exited the living room and, turning the corner, ran into Jiutiao Meijie.
She looked up and saw Jiutiao Meijie with a frown, leaning against the wall motionless.
