The scenery on both sides of the highway was like a moving painting. The indigo-colored mountains undulated in waves, and in the fields at the foot of the mountains, golden waves of rice rolled with the wind. Occasionally, a few houses with red tiles and white walls were dotted among them, with wisps of smoke curling up, exuding a bit of pastoral poetry.
But when you look at such beautiful scenery for too long, it's inevitable to feel sleepy, and a lazy atmosphere gradually filled the carriage.
Tang Tang curled up on the back seat, her little head tilted to one side, with long eyelashes like two small fans resting on her eyelids, breathing evenly and deeply.
Her short little legs unceremoniously propped on the armrest beside her, her shoes rubbing against the seat cover. Her posture was adorably naive, yet it had a hint of charming carefreeness.
