Intelligent Machines Couldn't Read the Room

The ancient temple was surrounded by the marks of time, utterly different from the data world they had just experienced.

As for Tong Alley in Jinxi Ancient Town, Jiangnan Coastal Suburbs, that was already a matter down at the foot of the mountain.

But in response,

Su Wen merely smiled gently in the end.

He casually picked up an incense stick from the altar, unhurriedly inserted it into the gaps of the censer, then gently struck a match.

As the flame flickered, the incense was slowly lit.

Wisps of blue smoke intertwined with the scent of incense lingering in the ancient temple, adding an inexplicable hint of New Year atmosphere to this sudden tranquility.

Su Wen had no intention of worshipping anything. If there was any meaning to it, perhaps it was only for the "long history" that had just passed.

So perhaps what he did now was simply an absentminded gesture to add a little New Year atmosphere.

In certain parts of Jiangnan, China, people placed great importance on these so-called rituals. But since no one had ever celebrated the New Year with him before, Su Wen had never cared about such old customs.

However,

this year was different.

So he merely said gently:

"Dai Fugu, a poet of the Southern Song Dynasty, once wrote in 'New Year's Eve': 'Sweep the thatched cottage clean of worldly dust; offer a stick of pure incense to worship the Nine Heavens.'

"Perhaps what I'm doing now is somewhat similar."

Hearing him say that,

the cool, aloof girl merely smiled.

"It's quite poetic, but unfortunately, tomorrow is New Year's Eve."

But after saying that, she quietly followed Su Wen's side and gently lit an incense stick before placing it in the censer.

As the incense smoke curled upward,

the two of them walked