Stepping into the second Tuesday of September.
"Dubian, do you have any cool props?" Jiutiao Meijie asked during the class break, as she twirled her hair.
Dubian Che turned around and saw her slender, pale hands deftly flipping through her black hair before picking up a pen and inserting it into her hair, coiling her gorgeous long hair into a classical style at the back of her head.
With her black hair no longer covering it, her snow-white neck was exposed to the air, looking very tempting.
"There are ways to make the weather hotter," Dubian Che responded, picking up his Chinese Classics textbook and fanning her with it.
"When exactly is this typhoon supposed to come?" Jiutiao Meijie enjoyed the artificial breeze but flipped through the printed script—"The End of the World and the Cold Fairyland"—with some impatience.
