A familiar moon in the heavens and familiar loess under one's feet—in this world, this would be the Huaxians' first grand celebration of the eve of Chinese New Year.
Su Mo had been so busy that the season had completely slipped his mind, but it had crept up slowly on him.
Dumplings, Chinese New Year's Eve, and now it was already Chinese New Year?
Su Mo absent-mindedly took stock of the circle of hunched-over refugees, looking at the perpetual fatigue on their faces as well as their intent expressions. He then slowly came forward.
Yes, it was definitely Chinese New Year's Eve.
It just so happened that this fell right on the first day of the welfare disaster—the day when everyone gathered in the harvest.
They could eat their fill and have a restful sleep, then wash off all the difficulties experienced over the last year. When the new year arrived, it would be the first year of an era of hope!
