Qiao An stood before the mesmerizing, bewitching sea of flowers, her fingertips trembling slightly. Anger simmered within her; she wanted to annihilate all of this sin.
Unexpectedly, the moment she raised a torch, the others stopped her, shouting in unison, "How can you burn this kind of stuff? Do you think this is some ridiculous Bollywood fever dream? If you dare light that fire, every single human and animal on this deserted island will get as high as a kite!"
Qiao An blinked in utter bewilderment.
Under everyone's speechless gazes, Qiao An was forcibly escorted back to the wooden cabin and made to face the wall.
"Hmph. These flowers are bad, so why can't we burn them?"
Looking at Qiao An's persistently innocent and ignorant face, Mu Zimo sighed.
