Sunlight streamed into the church, making them seem as if they had traveled through time and stepped into the Middle Ages.
Just as Li Changzhou was staring at the confessional, Yang Qinglan, who was drawn to the stained glass window, suddenly tugged at his sleeve.
He gave a soft "Hmm?" and asked, "What's wrong?"
“The stained glass on the right, the one with the gold dress,” she whispered.
"What is it?" Li Changzhou's gaze left the confessional and looked towards the chapel.
"It looks a bit like a snake."
"Snakes can cling to windowsills?" he said, pointing to the organ with a laugh.
"You can also dig holes," Yang Qinglan said with a smile.
“That’s underground!” Li Changzhou’s gaze finally turned to the stained glass as if nothing had happened.
Each exquisite stained-glass window, with its vibrant colors, casts a dazzling array of light, creating an atmosphere that is dreamlike, sublime, and mysterious.
Li Changzhou looked away and said, "I heard that Notre Dame Cathedral caught fire. I wonder if the stained glass windows there were blackened by smoke."
Yang Qinglan followed his gaze and saw rows of candles in the corner of the church.
"Don't hurt anyone or the church," she instructed.
"Try your best."
Yang Qinglan stopped speaking, gazing appreciatively at the stained glass, a hint of blue shimmering in her dark eyes.
"Miss Yang." Suddenly, Li Changzhou leaned close to her ear.
"What's wrong? Why aren't you making a move?" Yang Qinglan asked, turning her gaze away.
Can I swear?
"cannot."
"This little cutie, I love him so much. He's even using an electronic candle," Li Changzhou said with a smile, his voice soft and gentle, like a spring breeze.
After a two-second pause, Yang Qinglan turned her face away, her slender shoulders trembling as she tried her best to control herself and not laugh out loud.
Li Changzhou's gloomy mood vanished. He stepped forward and, from behind Yang Qinglan, said to her, "Shall we let it go this time?"
"Who's going to let whom off the hook? Are you scared?" As she spoke, Yang Qinglan was about to turn her face away, but stopped when she caught sight of him.
"Let's go, to Golden Street." She walked out of the church as if nothing had happened.
Behind St. Vitus Cathedral is St. George's Church, which is much smaller, and behind St. George's Church is Golden Street.
A lane that looks like it's straight out of an oil painting, with gray brick road and houses in blue, red, yellow and white.
House number 22, where Kafka once lived, is located at the entrance to Golden Lane and has now been converted into a bookstore with its walls painted blue.
“That’s the one,” Yang Qinglan said.
The two took two steps and then stopped.
A blonde, blue-eyed little girl, carrying a small white bag, walked out of the blue house number 22.
With her crystal-clear skin, rosy lips, and exquisite gothic-inspired clothing, it felt as if I had truly stepped into a fairytale world and seen a fairy emerge from her fairytale house.
"What a piece of junk, so small, trash." The little fairy... the little witch grumbled, the lollipop filling her mouth with a cute little round hill.
Li Changzhou and Yang Qinglan exchanged a knowing glance.
Princess Bi, the Tsar's daughter.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com