Lian Manman held in her hand a fan that Lady Zhang had already hemmed with coarse cloth.
As Lian Manman fanned herself, she couldn't help but laugh. Lady Zhang asked her what she was laughing at, and Lian Manman just shook her head without speaking. She couldn't very well reveal that, in her past life's memory, it was only the old men and women of the countryside who used these kinds of fans. When she overlapped her own image with theirs, she couldn't help but want to laugh.
Relaxing under the shade of a tree was quite pleasant, especially after Wu Lang and Xiao Qi had removed all the cicadas from the nearby trees. The absence of the cicadas' chirping made it even more so.
But there was a downside; where there were trees, there were also caterpillars.
Take, for instance, the present moment: as Lian Manman looked up, she saw a grayish-yellow caterpillar hanging by a silken thread just a foot above her head, swinging gently with a tendency to descend further.
