The projector whispered, "I had a good dream."
The wine gourd joked, "What kind of good dream? Dreamed of art again?"
"It indeed was a kind of art. I was lying on white clouds, seeing other clouds floating around me, seeing giant dark clouds soaring overhead, watching terrifying rain clouds amidst thunder and lightning."
The clock pendulum laughed, "This counts as art? Isn't this kind of stuff very common on TV in the Outside Provinces?"
"This is true art, not art that's forced, very pure..." The projector was still savoring the dream just now.
Not just him, a group of magical treasures were sharing dreams. Only the gloves were not in a good mood.
"Master, I just fell asleep, but I could still hear some sounds, just couldn't wake up."
The gloves' strength was indeed impressive; although forced to sleep, they never let their guard down.
