At noon the next day, by the time Wúchén arrived at the agreed-upon old locust tree with two dark circles under his eyes, the sunlight had already climbed over the eaves. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of his tunic, he felt that today’s sunlight was exceptionally glaring—perhaps because of the chaotic dreams of the past night.
"Pfft—"
A soft giggle came from behind him. Wúchén turned to see Yan Luoluo tilting her head to appraise him, her bright eyes brimming with mischievous amusement. The morning breeze brushed against the hem of her skirt, sending ripples of golden light shimmering across the morning sun.
Chapter 77