The sky was dim, and the Golden Feather rose and fell.
Tiny bubbles streamed out from the pool water in succession, rising to the surface and bursting, exploding into a waft of white steam.
Lu Gang leaned against the edge of the flower bed, the hot air hitting his face like a large, boiling pot suddenly placed beside him, falling into silence for a moment.
Crimson Fire Golden Feather!
It really was a Crimson Fire Golden Feather!
Lu Gang finally remembered why the phrase "scalding" sounded so familiar; last winter, he had the exact same conversation with Liang Qu!
Scalding.
Scalding in every sense.
Even he, without any protection, would risk scalding off a layer of skin if he rashly touched it.
Lu Gang wanted to speak but then hesitated, racking his brain for words and failing to find them, he instead laughed with self-mockery.
"Junior brother really is something, out with the old, in with the new."
