My wife is a witch princess.

After struggling for a long time, she finally discovered the problem.

She was a little anxious and didn't watch the introduction at the beginning of the video, which said that the edges of each part needed to be waxed before assembly so that they could be put together smoothly.

After Xia Li applied the wax, it indeed came together very easily.

After working on it for a while, she stopped to rest; this was more tiring than concocting potions.

She turned off her phone and looked at the sunflowers by her bedside.

Aunt Lan asked her to bring this back.

It's better if she keeps it safe.

Sunflowers produce seeds that are very delicious.

But sunflowers are flowers too.

It blooms facing the sun, and it also has its own flower language.

Giving flowers to others is actually a way of saying what you want to say through those flowers. Aunt Lan told her that she could give Song Che sunflowers.

She said that in her time, people would give sunflowers as gifts. Too many people gave roses, so they didn't seem so unique. But not many people gave sunflowers, yet their flower language is quite unique.

Xia Li felt that Aunt Lan knew more than Song Che.

Aunt Lan said that when sending flowers, you should buy an extra one and keep it at home. When the flower withers, you can send it again.

There's no need to worry about that; Xia Li sees Song Che every day.

She still prefers the symbolism of sunflowers.

You are the only one in my eyes.

You bought Chapter 111 too?

Xia Li found that the assembly sequence wasn't difficult; the challenge lay in putting them together. Even after waxing the parts, the inlay points were still difficult to join, and she had to exert a lot of effort to install them.

Perhaps because the assembly itself is relatively inexpensive, the workmanship is somewhat inferior.

I was shopping online with Aunt Lan. Good handmade items cost thousands of yuan, but this violin only cost around two hundred.

Aunt Lan offered to help make up the difference, but Xia Li refused.

She wanted to buy it for Song Che herself.

She adjusted her sitting position on the bed and continued to work on it. She was so determined that Song Che was afraid of her. At this moment, she tried to stuff a small wooden block into it.

It can't be stuffed in.

She wasn't strong enough, and when she used too much force with her fingers, she poked at a wood shaving and felt a little pain.

She picked up the assembled chassis, changed her posture, and continued to forcefully insert that small part.

Xia Li's silver hair was messy, and her little face was tense like an angry frog. She applied wax to the small part and spent more than ten minutes stuffing it in.

His forehead was covered in sweat.

This thing doesn't require any technical skill; as long as you follow the tutorial, you can assemble it.

But it's just hard to achieve.

Xia Li had already figured out the numbers and the order. Each number was a different type, and she pieced them together separately and then assembled them.

I glanced at the time and gathered up the scattered parts on the bed.

Song Che happened to knock on her door.

"Xia Li, dinner's ready."

"it is good."

Xia Li put the things back in the storage box, tidied her hair, and left the bedroom.

After knocking on the door, Song Che stood in the living room and waited.

Three dishes and a soup were steaming on the table, chopsticks were set out, and bowls were served. He glanced at Xia Li's door, then at the dishes, worried they might get cold.

The door opened.

Xia Li came out with her hair clearly freshly combed, but a small tuft at the back of her head was sticking up rather unruly.

Like a silly goose.

Song Che saw it.

Xia Li sat down, picked up her chopsticks, and took a piece of pork rib.

Song Che also sat down and ate a mouthful of rice.

After taking a few bites, he couldn't help but glance at the tuft of hair again.

It's still sticking up.

Like a bird's tail.

He lowered his head and drank his soup.

No, I can't help it.

“Your hair,” he said. “The back.”

Xia Li touched the back of her head.

You didn't touch the right spot.

"left."

She touched it again.

I still didn't get it right.

Song Che put down his chopsticks.

"Don't move."

He stood up and walked behind her.

That tuft of hair stood up stubbornly; he pressed it down, but couldn't. He pressed it down again, and it still stood up.

"It's static electricity."

Xia Li remained seated, her neck stiff.

Song Che wrapped the tuft of hair around his finger twice, pressed it into the rest of his hair, and held it for three seconds.

let go.

Her hair sticks up again.

“…Never mind.” He returned to his seat. “What did you do this afternoon? There’s so much static electricity.”

It's normal for there to be static electricity in winter, probably from twisting and turning in bed wrapped in a blanket.

"Nothing done."

Seeing that she didn't want to talk, Song Che picked up a piece of meat and put it in her bowl.

"Let's eat."

Xia Li lowered her head and began to eat. She ate quickly, wanting to finish and return to her bedroom as soon as possible.

She wanted to keep something surprising, but she couldn't tell Song Che right now.

When Song Che finished eating and was clearing away the dishes, he picked up the paper bag from the sofa.

"The clothes have arrived..." he placed on the coffee table. "Why don't you try them on?"

Xia Li put down her bowl, wiped her mouth, and walked over.

There are three paper bags.

She pulled out a piece of clothing and unfolded it.

White sweater, turtleneck.

Song Che hesitated for twenty minutes between the three colors when choosing, and finally chose white because Xia Li has fair skin, and dark colors would be too plain, while bright colors would be too eye-catching.

He had considered purple as well; it was purple from the very beginning, but purple looked old-fashioned and wasn't suitable for Xia Li.

She stood in the middle of the living room, holding the sweater, touching the fabric, and hugging it tighter. She liked purple, but that was before. After buying the phone case last time, she was going to try other colors.

White is fine.

Song Che then took out the remaining two items.

A coat and a pair of fleece-lined stockings.

Xia Li held the stockings up and looked at them for two seconds.

"This looks a lot like the one I had before."

“Isn’t that one thin?” Song Che put the dishes and chopsticks into the kitchen. “This one is thicker, for winter.”

He didn't turn around.

He heard Xia Li rustling as she unpacked something in the living room.

I turned off the tap and went outside.

"Want to give it a try?"

"try."

Xia Li picked up the clothes and went into the bedroom.

The door wasn't closed properly; there was a crack.

Song Che stood in the living room, his back to the crack, pretending to tidy up the snack bags on the coffee table.

Bruce jumped onto the sofa armrest, his tail drooping down and swaying back and forth.

Song Che arranged the three snack bags by size, then by color, counted them, and then shuffled them aside.

He didn't even know what he was doing.

Logically speaking, shouldn't we go and peek?