"I want an apple," Mo Siyu's voice rang out.
Tang Yue put down the notebook in her hand, washed the apple, peeled it, and cut it into small pieces, making it easier to eat. She asked, "Is this the only medicine for today, or are there more after this bottle?"
"There's one more small bottle," Mo Siyu replied, picking up the notebook she had put down. It was a leaf-green notebook, quite refreshing, a kind that didn't have lined pages—it was essentially a simple sketchbook.
It was filled with drawings of various clothes, accompanied by all kinds of annotations.
Even though they were just drawn in a notebook, you could still feel the comfort and pleasure the designs would evoke if they were actual clothes.
If these clothes were worn, they should not only look beautiful but also feel comfortable.
Mo Siyu flipped through page after page and remarked, "Xiao Yue, if you add color, it should look even better."
