At that moment, Ji Weiwei heard a familiar voice coming from the doorway. In a calm, explanatory tone, it said, "Actually, I spent a long time choosing this gift. I picked out all kinds of beautiful decorations and practical luxuries. I even considered making something myself, so it would mean more. But I couldn't be sure you'd genuinely like any of those things. And since I really don't know what you need, I noticed your wrist was bare and figured you probably wouldn't like a bracelet or bangle. So I chose this one. I like it, it's pretty practical, and I thought you'd probably like it too."
Ji Weiwei turned around and saw An Yang standing ramrod straight by the door. The light from inside stretched his shadow a long way behind him.
Ji Weiwei turned back and took out the watch, studying it closely. Under the light, it gleamed with a metallic silver sheen. Even the warm orange glow couldn't make it feel any warmer. It was cold, mechanical all over—aloof and proudly solitary.
It was intricate and precise, as if the most renowned craftsmen had devoted their entire lives to it, finally producing a supremely beautiful mechanical watch to keep track of time across all the worlds.
Ji Weiwei swallowed and looked at An Yang. "That whole speech you just gave sounded like something a principal would say. It's obvious you rehearsed it ages ago. You weren't making it up, were you?"
"So... you don't like it?" An Yang realized that, despite all the storms he had weathered, he was actually a little nervous at that moment.
"Of course I like it!" Ji Weiwei said. "But I'd like it even more if you made one like this yourself!"
"Then I'd have to apprentice myself to a world-famous master