Monday morning is a painful morning.
Listening to the howling wind outside the window, every cell in Zheng Qing's body was resisting the idea of getting out of bed.
But this is the school infirmary.
He was still lying in the school sickbed.
Strict Mrs. Bella would not allow a recovering student to laze in bed.
A gust of cool wind hit his face, followed by a rustling noise, and Zheng Qing felt as if his cheeks were being pricked by needles.
He gasped, managing to open his left eye.
A white paper crane was fluttering up and down between the pillows, never ending its leaps. Occasionally, it would flap its wings, getting close to his cheek and pecking him a few times with its sharp beak.
The young public student grumbled in his throat, and reached out a hand from the quilt to catch this little thing that was flapping around randomly.
The paper crane symbolically flapped its wings and then became submissive, drooping its head and opening its body.