Feng Yin got up early the next morning, stepping out of his room leisurely.
Feng Ying was perched atop his head—a clump of snow-white fur smaller than his fist, nestled in his jet-black hair.
At a glance, one might mistake it for a hairstyle.
However, upon closer inspection, it becomes a surprise to see. Oh look, the hairstyle is moving.
After staring for a few more moments, one would naturally exclaim, "Wow, it's such an adorable little fellow!"
Little Feng Ying was droopy from sleepiness, stubbornly clinging to Feng Yin's hair with its tiny paws, its little body wobbling like a roly-poly toy.
Its laziness was so endearing that it made one want to just gobble it up.
However, upon hearing a few 'chirping' sounds, Feng Ying's languid posture suddenly changed. Its body stiffened, alert and ready.
Its eyes sharply fixed on the front.
The two young hawks were standing in line, waiting for their elder sister's morning exercise routine.