"Are you talking about this thing?" Pei Yan waved the flower in his hand in front of the strange insect. Seeing its pupils dilate and its breath suddenly quicken, he already knew the answer. Pei Yan couldn't help but bow his head to carefully examine the flower. Strangely enough, though it had been four or five years since it was picked, the flower still retained its vivid, bright appearance like when it was first picked.
Pei Yan himself couldn't believe it was a common thing. Even though he had studied the flower since he picked it, even Lin Junzhao within him couldn't identify what it was, and told him the flower was of no use to him. Only then did Pei Yan, disappointed, throw it into a corner, letting it grow or die on its own.
