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...
...
Time flew by, and it was already the beginning of March.
At night...
Next door was still bustling with activity, with doors opening and shutting constantly and voices shouting things like "hot water" and "chamber pot."
Meanwhile, Song Cheng was with Ting in Sister An's room.
The fire blazed warmly in the hearth, and the room was cozy.
Ting, dressed like a little cotton ball, lay on the couch, drawing her "masterpiece" on a piece of dry animal skin.
She loved painting on animal skins, then having Song Cheng cut them out and sew them together with needle and thread.
At first, it was a flat little bunny, but now, Song Cheng had learned to stuff it with cotton.
His daughter's data always showed as "0~0," but her affection was "100," just as with his son.
Song Cheng patiently sat next to Ting, contemplating matters of cultivation and training.
