In Reincarnation City, Shang Qingtian sat in the garden, twirling a freshly plucked flower between his fingers.
The once vibrant flower withered and decayed in an instant, turning into a dried bloom in the blink of an eye.
Shang Qingtian placed the dried flower into a vase, which was already filled with various other dried flowers.
The dried flowers, like specimens, had lost their vitality, but retained their beauty, looking still quite lovely in the vase, never to wilt again.
"City Lord, the date agreed upon with the Eight Kings approaches; a decision must be made," Zhao Fuguo stood opposite, watching Shang Qingtian arranging flowers, and finally could not hold back from speaking.
"Old Zhao, what do you think I should choose?" Shang Qingtian said lightly.
