"Imagine this, for the three of us to eat a midnight snack, it costs at least thirty yuan. But if you make it, it's only ten."
Qianqian said, "No need for you to act like me; this principle of being thrifty is ingrained in my bones."
"I think you've turned into a rice cake spirit." Jiang Nian couldn't be bothered with her, turned his head to look at Song Xiyun, and asked,
"Are you feeling better?"
"Bette...better now." Song Xiyun didn't expect him to suddenly ask her, and she seemed a bit flustered.
"Completely better?" he asked in confusion.
Song Xiyun: "Much better."
The night wind brushed her face, and she still wasn't fully recovered from her cold. With a gust of wind, she couldn't help but cough a few times into her sleeve.
Probably feeling embarrassed, she suppressed the sound of her coughing.
Jiang Nian glanced down her sleeve; Song Xiyun stood beside Qianqian, her figure somewhat frail.
Like a candle in the wind, flickering on and off.
"Let's go."
