The sun was already setting in the west, dragging out the two bicycles' shadows as they zoomed across the path between the desolate farmlands and the withered trees.
As they cycled, Jiang Baimian suddenly gestured for Shang Jianyao to slow down. She then cycled to the side of the road, parked her bicycle, and plucked some relatively soft branches.
"What are you weaving?" Shang Jianyao asked curiously.
Jiang Baimian—who was not wearing a mask—smiled maliciously. "Preparing to carry out domestic discipline."
Shang Jianyao agreed deeply. "That's right. Things have been getting to Little Red's head recently; we have to let him know how difficult life is."
Jiang Baimian chuckled and placed the tree branches into the backseat. She didn't explain further, got onto the bicycle, and said, "Let's go."
When the sky was dyed the color of fire, the two of them returned to the dock.