Ye Jingzhe didn't make a sound. He didn't want to make another wish either. He puffed up his cheeks and blew out the five little candles on the birthday cake with all his might.
Si Mingjing, slow to realize, said, "Auntie hasn't sung you the birthday song yet."
"It's enough, thank you, Auntie Si."
"We're going to sing it."
Si Mingjing gave Mo Yinhe a look, and the two of them sang the "Happy Birthday" song for the child together.
A warm current seemed to surge within Ye Jingzhe, the Little Bingshan, but he didn't show it. He just sat stiffly, afraid that others would glimpse his joy.
Five-year-old Little Bingshan felt that he lived in perpetual darkness every day, an eternal night where he needed to run incessantly, to keep running and keep going. As long as he persisted, as long as he worked hard, he would be able to escape this eternal night, live under the sun, and enjoy days where he was in charge, could do as he pleased, and everyone would bow down to him!
