In a dream, like an ink painting of a landscape.
Inside a Peach Blossom Spring made entirely of ink.
In an odd ancient school, tall and solid, strict in design, with no doors to enter – only a small window for access.
A pigtailed little girl, numbed and mechanical like the background characters in dreams, mingled among a crowd of naive children.
Actually rebelled!
And she had hit him with a paddle.
At this moment, Zhao Rong was a bit stunned.
And this was happening in his lucid dream, truly a rebellion against the heavens.
Zhao Rong's eyes widened as he examined the expressionless pigtailed little girl in front of him.
Um, that had to be Yu Huaijin.
The sensation of being hit with the paddle, that irritating little expression, those methodical movements.
Well, it's one thing during the day; after all, sometimes Qing Jun is absent, and it's not during Calligraphy class. My little Ascending Realm self can't suppress you.
