In an instant, the murderous intent in Feng Fuce's heart towards Historian Wang vanished into thin air.
He looked at Zhi'er and said, "Wipe away your tears, I want to show you something."
The little one quickly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, rather clumsily.
Then, Feng Fuce, with his left hand clenched into a fist, reached out in front of Zhi'er.
The young man's wrist turned over and his fingers slowly unfurled.
A firefly, struggling, flapped its wings and flew out.
"Wow!" Zhi'er's eyes sparkled instantly, "Brother Fu Ce, you actually caught one!"
They both looked up, watching the firefly fly higher and higher until it disappeared from sight.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on Feng Fuce's handsome face.
He picked a few bamboo leaves from the side and sat with Zhi'er in the pavilion.
The little one watched as Feng Fuce's long fingers nimbly and swiftly wove the bamboo leaves.
Soon, a sturdier bamboo cage began to take shape.
