"Today isn't a good day to write in my journal."
The pen in Huang Ziwu's hand hovered for a long time without touching the page. The rain wrote the first stroke for him.
The moonlight was especially cold tonight. His uncle had told him he was born on a peaceful night just like this one, but now... his uncle was the only family he had left who was close to him.
Over a pot of murky wine, old friends meet again; they've grown used to watching the autumn moon and spring breeze. As usual, he opened the window and looked down at the city, only to see a very different sight.
A black cat lay elegantly on the windowsill, muttering to itself.
"Young man, would you like to become a magical girl?"
