"That's right, you shouldn't feel anything," Zhang Yan said faintly.
"Are... are we going to be recorded by the surveillance cameras?" Feng Qishi asked softly, looking around.
"No, I interfered with them using my magic," Zhang Yan replied patiently.
"I thought you were different from Mu Anxiao," Feng Qishi smiled, nudging Zhang Yan's arm with her elbow. "Will you take me as your disciple?"
"Don't even think about it. If you dare to say anything, I'll erase your memory in minutes," Zhang Yan looked directly at Feng Qishi.
Feng Qishi smiled. "I understand."
"Good that you understand." Zhang Yan disappeared after speaking.
Feng Qishi's lips curled upwards as she turned and pressed the doorbell.
Inside the house, the aunt heard the doorbell and quickly put down what she was doing, hurrying to the entrance and opening the door without asking anything. Seeing Feng Qishi, who was soaked by the rain outside, she breathed a sigh of relief. "It's good that you're back," she said, stepping aside.
Feng Qishi walked into the house, closing and locking the door behind her. "How is Feng Feng?" she asked.
"Sleeping," the aunt replied softly.
"That's good." Feng Qishi nodded, changing into slippers. "You should go rest."
"You go wash up, and I'll make you some ginger soup. It won't be good if you catch a cold tomorrow."
"I'm not..." Feng Qishi had only uttered two words when she suddenly sneezed. "I'm fine," she added.
"Go on, listen to Auntie." The aunt patted Feng Qishi's shoulder and turned back to her work.
Feng Qishi watched the aunt's retreating back, lowered her eyes with a smile, and walked towards the stairs.
In the living room, Feng Sen sat before the coffee table and said, "I thought you weren't coming back. You only have that much courage."
Feng Qishi didn't glance at Feng Sen as she went upstairs.
At the same time, Zhang Yan returned to the room. Mu Anxiao was sitting at the table, staring blankly at the television. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"You deliberately sealed my magic," Mu Anxiao turned to look at Zhang Yan.
Zhang Yan crossed his arms, smiled, and said, "You really do have a wild imagination. Sealing your magic brings me no benefit; it only causes me trouble."
Hearing Zhang Yan's words, Mu Anxiao fell silent.
Seeing Mu Anxiao's renewed silence, Zhang Yan said, "I'll make you some ginger soup. You'll be staying here from today onwards."
"I don't like ginger," Mu Anxiao said, looking at Zhang Yan again. "You've arranged a room for me, and I won't be staying here."
"Your wound needs dressing, and the wall over there is in its current state. If you stay there, it will be inconvenient if Yin messengers come. Moreover, with you here, I can check on your injuries anytime. Of course, if you don't want to sleep on the sofa, I can give you my bed," Zhang Yan arranged things properly.
Mu Anxiao hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, I'll sleep on the sofa. I've already caused you a lot of trouble coming here."
"You have indeed caused me a lot of trouble, but you helped me find a magic treasure by sheer luck. In half a month, I'll accompany you to find them," Zhang Yan said, glancing at his palm. "I wonder if the treasure still recognizes me."
"I feel like your treasure doesn't really like those two evil spirits. If it did, its power would be enough to severely injure me," Mu Anxiao said.
"That's true. Then I'll go make you some ginger soup. You have to drink it, whether you like it or not, for your own good," Zhang Yan said, walking towards the small kitchen in front of him.