In An Ning's room, moonlight spilled across the kang.
It was around the fifteenth of the first lunar month, and the moon outside the window was big and round.
An Ning leaned on the windowsill, finally understanding what poets meant when they called the moon the White Jade Plate.
As An Ning admired the moon, her eyes fixed upon it, she noticed something strange. 'Why is it getting smaller?'
An Ning's eyes, wide open just a moment ago, were now slowly closing.
She tried to fight it, just like someone desperately trying to stay awake, her eyes closing only to snap open again.
'The moon is big again.'
An Ning sensed something was wrong. The drowsiness was too sudden, too irresistible.
She immediately activated her spiritual power, jolting herself awake. The sleepiness vanished.
An Ning turned from the windowsill and looked at Xiao Lang on the floor.
It... was glowing.
Halos of blue light gathered around Xiao Lang's soft fur as he lay in his basket.
