Shen Yangge stared, dumbfounded. He even shut the window and opened it again, only to find the same scene waiting outside.
By the third or fourth time he opened the window, Shen Yangge's expression finally returned to normal. He stared at the flowers in full bloom, a dazzling riot of colors.
The flowers and plants freely expressed their feelings, chatting happily among themselves.
Their conversations were both funny and infuriating. For example: Why does Little Brat look even older than we do?
Or: That's not right. Little Brat looked so fresh and tender a few days ago. Just looking at him made me want to press my leaves against his face and never let go. I want to snuggle up to Little Brat~
And so on.
Shen Yangge snapped the window tightly shut, leaving not even a crack. As a result, the flowers and plants outside in the courtyard wailed: Little Brat closed the window again! He's so naughty. Can someone push it back open?
As they clamored, their voices grew even more chaotic. The noise nearly deafened Shen Yangge, so he simply shuffled over and opened the window a crack, then walked back to the Consort's Chair with an old man's gait and lay down.
The flowers and plants stopped making a racket, and Shen Yangge breathed a sigh of relief. As soon as he relaxed, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and he fell asleep.
The nap left him thoroughly refreshed. In his dream, he lay on an immense grassland surrounded by flowers, grass, and trees, with a little stream nearby. Many tiny creatures seemed to be hiding out of sight, secretly watching him.
They all radiated goodwill toward him.
When he woke, the aches in Shen Yangge's body had eased.
There were still two days before he