Earlier, when the butterflies were gusting through like wild winds, there was one that was a little slow and couldn’t keep up with the rest. As it flapped arduously in front of Xie Lian, he had a simple thought: that poor little silver butterfly was working really hard, but it couldn’t fly anymore. And so he unthinkingly extended his palm just beneath it. Wings flapping happily, that silver butterfly had landed on his palm and now wouldn’t leave. Both Feng Xin and Mu Qing popped veins on their foreheads. “Don’t touch that thing with your hand!! Don’t you know what it is?! It’s dangerous!”
