The change in expression on the buzz-cut man's face certainly didn't escape Leng Wushuang's eyes.
"Wow, junior brother, I didn't expect you to have a trick up your sleeve," Leng Wushuang praised.
"This only temporarily alleviates his pain, he still needs the antidote," Fang Yi said.
"Oh, oh." Leng Wushuang looked as if she understood, and then said expectantly, "Do you have the antidote?"
Fang Yi didn't say anything, looked up at the ceiling, and Leng Wushuang followed his gaze upwards, puzzled, "Junior brother, what are you looking at?"
"I'm seeing if the antidote will fall from the sky," Fang Yi said honestly.
"..." Leng Wushuang.
Ignoring the resentful look from his third senior sister, Fang Yi stood up again, fetched a washed cup, turned it upside down, and roasted it over the candle flame.
"Junior brother, why are you roasting that cup? Oh, I know, you want to give him cupping therapy, right? I'm so smart, guessed it instantly," Leng Wushuang said with a playful smile.
