In the distance, Ye Zi'an stood on a large rock, facing the sea, holding a flute with his delicate hand. The slight sea breeze lifted his ink-black hair and stirred his clothes, giving Yang Chuxia the illusion that he might drift away at any moment.
Disliking this feeling, she stepped forward and hugged him from behind, the warmth of his body finally settling her heart.
"My dear, isn't the sunrise over the sea beautiful?"
"Not as beautiful as you."
Ye Zi'an shook his head helplessly, "You've stolen my line again."
"You've been playing for so long, why hasn't the old demon appeared yet?" Yang Chuxia looked out at the sea, which was too calm.
"Let's wait a little longer."
With that, Ye Zi'an started to play another tune, slightly different from the one before.
Soon, a large whirlpool appeared on the sea, and a big red silhouette slowly rose from the water.
