"Right." Liang Zheng said, taking the butterfly back and sitting directly on the ground. He took out sandpaper to polish it, "It's not done yet. I'll give it to Xixi once it's finished."
He sat with his back to her, about half a meter away from her.
In front of him were his tools.
He seemed to cherish these items, wrapping them in several plastic bags.
"Liang Zheng, be careful. Don't hurt your hand," she reminded him, recalling that despite being of college age, he still had the intelligence of a child when she saw him pick up the file.
Liang Zheng nodded his head and hummed in response, his voice low.
He was very focused, his eyes only on the butterfly.
With each slice and carve, he refined the edges of the butterfly.
"It'll be ready soon."
The evening breeze blew gently, the coolness amplified on the rooftop.
Tang Xi suddenly felt the only sense of freedom she had felt in days.
She couldn't help but stretch out her arms, exercising her waist and neck.
