New Year's Eve, just past 9 AM.
"Get up, get up!"
The bedroom door was knocked, and Fang Ye, hugging his quilt, was sound asleep, being called by a familiar voice. But the bed was so warm and comfortable, he didn't want to get up and turned over again.
He had come back by plane yesterday afternoon.
He mumbled half-asleep, "Stop calling me, I'll get up later..."
"Hurry up and get up to paste the couplets! Are you waiting for us to do it? Hurry and tidy up; we also need to go to your grandfather's house later."
Mother Fang unceremoniously drew back the curtains, and the bedroom was instantly flooded with light before she left the room.
Fang Ye rubbed his eyes and reluctantly sat up, yawning and muttering, "Ah, I'm so sleepy..."
He checked his phone for the time—it was 9 o'clock, indeed not early! With so much to do for the New Year, he threw off the quilt and got out of bed.