After dispelling the room's disguise, Fang Ze sat in his chair, then turned his attention to the table in front of him.
Just like several times before, when he'd restored the room to its original state, tonight's harvest was already quietly laid out on the table...
It was a piece of sheepskin paper the size of a handkerchief, its color somewhat similar to the table's, a shade of brown.
Fang Ze waved his hand over it to make sure it wasn't dangerous before picking up the paper.
The sheepskin felt a bit rough to the touch, and both sides were blank.
Fang Ze looked at it with some confusion, then rubbed his hand lightly over it a few times.
Suddenly, something magical happened: patterns slowly emerged from the center of the sheepskin paper.
A house-like symbol was at the very center of these patterns, which then started to extend outwards, slowly bringing trees, hills, and roads into view, one by one.
