The autumn sun was bright, the weather crisp and clear.
Zheng Xiu sat in the carriage with Feng Bei, a cat nestled in his arms. They were carefully nurturing their relationship, trying to leave the shadow of the Cannibal Painting behind them and start anew, rekindling their old flame. When no one was looking, Feng Bei would pretend to gaze at the scenery outside while secretly slipping her hand into his, saying softly, "Go ahead and hold it if you want." Whenever this happened, Zheng Xiu would secretly squeeze her palm with a coded rhythm of nine light taps and one deep one, helping her reacquaint herself with the familiar intimacy of a couple ten years wed.
Putting old wine in a new bottle had its own special kind of joy.
