"Damn Feng Xun, my good intentions were all treated like a mule's liver and lungs—may you be tormented to death by the Cold Syndrome halfway there." Ye Lingyue was still venting as she casually picked up a Fortune Crane.
It had been over a year since she gave this box away, and unexpectedly, Feng Xun had not used a single one, and the Cauldron Breath on them was still intact.
Flipping through them casually, Ye Lingyue noticed that these Fortune Cranes were somewhat different; they had some new creases, as if someone had opened them up and then refolded them.
The person wasn't an Alchemist; their folding technique was not skillful, hence the new creases.
Curious, Ye Lingyue unfolded one of the Fortune Cranes, and inside the talisman paper, there were a few new words.
Seeing those words, Ye Lingyue's fingertips trembled, and the paper fell to the ground.
"Feng Xun, likes, Ye Lingyue."
Seven words, crystal clear.
