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Morning.
Zhao Rong was awakened again by the gentle swaying of the dragon ship.
He rubbed his eyes, propped himself up, and turned to look at the small window of the cabin.
Outside the window.
There was a vast expanse of white, with the faint green of the mountains and forests hidden within it.
A thick fog had risen above the great river.
Zhao Rong felt a bit cool and got out of bed, draping a thin robe over himself.
He turned to glance at Su Xiaoxiao, who was curled up in the blankets.
He had cultivated until late last night before sleeping, and yet this girl had sneaked in at midnight and crawled into his blanket, curling up in his arms to sleep for the whole night.
She had slept comfortably, but Zhao Rong was uncomfortable.
Because this silly girl couldn't keep still even in sleep, he didn't know if she was having a nightmare, but her little feet kept kicking around, nearly kicking Zhao Rong out of bed...