It wasn't long before Ye Xinyan was holding something in her hand, leading Qi Jia out.
"Look, my bird can fly," Ye Xinyan breathed on the paper airplane and threw it.
As to why she had to breathe on the paper airplane... she didn't know either, it was just a habit. Because the little seniors from her childhood played this way, so she followed suit dutifully.
The paper airplane flew out at an angle for a short distance before nose-diving.
Uh, it didn't work.
Ye Xinyan stared, shocked, as the paper airplane crashed.
When she was young, the paper airplanes she folded flew long and steady, they were the best among all the children in the village. Even the older boys couldn't compare to her, and such an accident had never occurred before.
Indeed, practice makes perfect, but play leads to decay, the ancients truly did not deceive me. Having not done it for a while, this child's play of craftsmanship could actually become rusty.