"Qiye, we didn't do what the Emperor wanted. He won't be angry, will he?"
On the green train, Baili Pangpang rested his chin on his hand and gazed out the window, speaking with some concern.
Lin Qiye fell silent for a moment, then shook his head. "No. Compared to that sorrowful, gut-wrenching ending, perhaps this outcome was what Li Deyang truly longed for deep down, yet could never attain..."
"True." Cao Yuan nodded. "Compared to crying her heart out, that little girl looked better when she smiled."
Lin Qiye rubbed his chilled hands and tucked them into his sleeves. Looking at the snowflakes gradually drifting down outside the window, he murmured to himself:
"The sky here is too cold. It needs stories that can bring warmth, not cold and heartless reality... Perhaps that is the meaning of stories themselves."
"But you still told Chen Han the truth." Baili Pangpang shrugged. "I bet he isn't feeling too good right now either, huh?"
"There was no way to keep this from him in the first place," Lin Qiye said calmly.
"Night Watchmen shouldn't be the ones listening to stories. They should be the ones standing before everyone else, taking the blades for them with their backs while smiling and telling them stories."
"That sounds pretty miserable." Baili Pangpang sighed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced beside Lin Qiye and saw Jialan holding a copy of the Qiqi Baby Hanyu Pinyin Encyclopedia. Her lips moved slightly as she seriously muttered something to herself.
"Miss Jialan." Baili Pangpang leaned toward her, a wise gleam appearing in his eyes. "If there are any characters you can't pronounce, you can ask me. Among this group, I'm the most knowledgeable!"
Jialan looked up at him. After hesitating for a moment, she placed the book