In the darkness, a tiny spark of flame was unexpectedly dazzling.
"Wow, impressive." Ding Jing exclaimed, hurriedly putting on her shoes as she walked over.
Mo Shangjun placed the burning dry grass onto the small twigs that had been prepared earlier. Surprisingly, the rain-soaked twigs also caught fire, and the small flame gradually became brighter in the night.
Ding Jing crouched by the fire, adding broken branches while warming herself with the flames.
After a moment, when the fire was genuinely burning and wouldn't go out easily, Ding Jing raised her head and asked Mo Shangjun, "You couldn't sleep?"
"Yeah." Mo Shangjun answered with unusual honesty.
"After walking all day, aren't you tired at all?"
"Not really."
Mo Shangjun moved her arm slightly.
In this case, Mo Shangjun wasn't pretending to be tough.
