Every year on this day, the sky is clear and sunny.
As for why?
Bai Chuwei vaguely remembered that on the day of his death anniversary, it had rained heavily, with dark clouds pressing down on the skyline, fierce winds howling, and torrential rain pouring.
Thus, she disliked the rain today. If the heavens wanted it to rain? Then she would make it unable to do so.
Bai Chuwei raised her hand, her fingers forming a gesture, and with an invisible force from her fingertips slicing through the air, it suddenly formed a burst, shooting straight into the clouds.
Before long, the dark clouds in the sky dispersed, and the sun gradually appeared, the sunlight cascading from the sky, casting a lonely and elongated shadow over her.
Bai Chuwei looked somewhat distracted; she was always alone.
Starting from today, over five thousand years ago, she really became solitary.