Thinking this way, even the flu is filled with happiness.
Ling Yin doesn't know, a greater happiness awaits when he wakes up.
When the one you've been thinking about is in the kitchen cooking a warm bowl of white porridge for you in an apron, is this a sign that you're still dreaming?
Ling Yin, wrapped in white pajamas, rubs his sleepy eyes twice, trying hard to discern if the person in front of him is not an illusion.
Hua Hua hums a tune, tastes the porridge with a spoon, adds two spoonfuls of sugar, the taste is just right, truly delicious.
Turning around, he finds Ling Yin standing there foolishly.
Hua Hua grins mischievously and says in a playful voice, "Master, you're awake?"
Ling Yin is stunned, strides over, "How are you here?"
Before he could finish, Hua Hua hugs him, his lips touching his forehead, "Guess?"
"Surely I'm dreaming." Ling Yin closes his eyes, talking to himself.
Hua Hua hits his head hard.
Ling Yin frowns instantly.
