When sunset arrived and dusk descended, the bright, orange-red glow of the setting sun spilled across the horizon, while long strips of bluish-purple clouds spread across the sky like faint mists and wisps of smoke, ethereal and sparse, as if someone had overturned a colorful palette on a table.
The breeze was gentle and the air was cool. The group sat directly on the grass, and Bai Molian went deep into the mountain forest to gather some dead branches and weeds, lighting a bonfire in the center of the clearing.
Mànhuá and Laihua went to the river to scoop up a few ladles of clear stream water, setting an iron pot over the bonfire and quietly waiting for the cold water inside to come to a boil. Laihua went not far off to pick some wild vegetables and edible wild flowers, tossing them into the pot to boil as side dishes. Meanwhile, several people by the lake were quietly setting bait, casting their lines, and waiting in silence for the fish to bite.
Chapter 133