Su Ziceng's coat was only half-removed, her long hair had tangled with the buttons of the garment, and while she was experiencing the discomfort, she saw a person emerging from the kitchen, followed by a series of steady footsteps pressing down upon the sunlight, casting a bright silhouette.
"Sister Mu," she called out without turning her head, "help me pull this, it's stuck." Her black hair was wrapped around a diamond-style button, getting tighter the more she pulled.
The "Sister Mu" behind her didn't respond but gathered her hair in one hand, while the other hand slid over her turtleneck sweater, gently disentangling her hair.
There was no unpleasant smell of cooking fumes; on the contrary, there was a fresh scent of grass. Su Ziceng looked at the floor, noticed the shadow of the person taller than herself, was surprised, and suddenly looked up, bumping her head against a cleanly shaven chin.
