Zhao Changhe spent a long time, and Piaomiao quietly accompanied him. Until ten miles along the river, all the withered trees burst into bloom, stretching as far as the eye could see, a breathtaking sight.
Some blooms belong to the future, some to the past. The flowers are myriad in color, and the methods each person uses are distinct. Clearly, it's a study of time cultivation, yet it cultivates something like arranging a bridal chamber.
"Is it beautiful?" Zhao Changhe turned his head with a smile, "It's for you."
"Is this your cultivation?"
"Not an oversight. I measure time, also express my feelings."
"Time…" Piaomiao's gaze was piercing, "These blooming periods, some are past, some are future?"
"Whether past, present or future, they are all with you."
Piaomiao asked, "Why give flowers?"
Zhao Changhe scratched his head, "Uh, because they're beautiful… Besides, we've had the moonlit nights, but not flowers in front… This is for you."
