"You mean to say, you've time-traveled again?"
Wendy hugged her arms, watching coldly as her best friend, wrapped in a blanket and huddled on the bed, ferociously nibbled on chocolate.
Li Mumu could now finally understand why the agents of the Special Service Bureau still wore such thick clothes in the height of summer, and why they'd drink piping hot mutton soup for a late-night snack—she felt as though all the heat in her body had been completely drained, not feeling the slightest warmth even under the sun.
It was truly cold.
So cold that she couldn't even open her mouth to speak, and if she hadn't stockpiled a substantial amount of chocolate before boarding the ship, she might have already gone into shock.
Still, she persevered and recounted everything she'd experienced to Wendy.
