Xia Ling knew she couldn't argue with him, so she no longer insisted on it and just obeyed his arrangement.
Pei Ziheng was afraid that she was cold, so he reached out to hold her shoulders, taking her into his arms and protecting her from the cold with his body temperature. The fireworks burned again, and he motioned her to look up. "Your favorite iris."
And rose, the one he thought resembled her best.
Numerous fireworks bloomed and died down in the night sky, like a gorgeous feast, making people feel fascinated.
Xia Ling murmured, "It's so beautiful." The girl always had a natural yearning for beauty. She reached out and pretended to grab the fireworks in midair, looking at the bright light that extinguished gradually. She suddenly changed the topic. "I really hope that there will be more days like today."
She felt at a loss the moment the words left her mouth.