Sunday was quite pleased with his performance. He stood upright, still holding his Long Saber, proudly meeting the gaze of Chen Zhou.
In contrast, Saturday's mood appeared particularly low.
He hung his head, his hands pressed tightly against his pant legs, feeling ashamed of his cowardice, not even daring to lift his head to look into Chen Zhou's eyes.
...
"Well done!"
Chen Zhou walked past Saturday, directly to Sunday's side, patted him on the shoulder, and encouraged him.
Sunday said nothing, inserted the Long Saber into the sand, kneeled on one knee, and pounded his right fist against his left chest, showing his submission and loyalty to Chen Zhou.
Seeing this, Saturday hurriedly knelt down with Sunday—his reactions were often a bit slow.
...
"It's okay, I believe you can do better next time."
Facing a self-blaming Saturday, Chen Zhou did not scold him.
Having been together for so long, he knew very well how loyal Saturday was to him.
