Gu Zheng had always found such things childish and boring. He did not have time to go to the beach to pick seashells to make wind chimes, but at some point, a seashell wind chime appeared in his hand.
Perhaps dreams did not need logic. Everything was so ridiculous.
In the dream, Mo Yuan gave the wind chime to Black Tide. Black Tide happily took it and waved it in her hand. She smiled sweetly and said, "The sound of the wind chime is beautiful!"
Mo Yuan revealed a satisfied smile, but it quickly disappeared. He had always been so cold as if he was not used to laughing. When he spoke, his voice remained cold. "What's so nice about the sound of shells hitting each other? I'll give you a better gift in the future."
The next second, Black Tide put the wind chime to her ear and shook it gently. The ordinary wind chime suddenly made sounds that were pleasant to the ear.
