「February 3rd, the Start of Spring.」
The thick, dark red curtains couldn't entirely block out the sunlight, which imprinted a luminous square upon them.
It had been some time since Zhou Li had set out on this journey. Travel was supposed to be relaxing, but as it dragged on, he began to feel a growing fatigue. He started to long for home, yearning for Brother Nan. The more urgent this homesickness became, the more acutely he sensed the weariness of the journey—not a physical exhaustion, but a fatigue of the spirit.
At that moment, he was sitting at his desk, hunched over and writing earnestly.
Tuanzi squatted on the desk, tilting her head to watch him write.
The Old Monster sat on the bed behind him, holding a box of fries. "What are you writing?"
"A diary."
"You're lying."
"Did you sneak a peek?" Zhou Li asked.
"Not yet," the Old Monster replied.
