Bai Zhi'er looked at him, angrily pushed twice: "Don't talk nonsense!"
Feng Fuce's body remained unmoved, trapping her within the crook of his arm.
"Then tell me, exactly what do you want it for? As long as you say it, I'll send someone to help you retrieve the Qiankun Bag."
Bai Zhi'er bit her lip hard, her eyes reddened.
Feng Fuce raised an eyebrow: "Are you going to cry?"
She choked up, saying: "Can you believe in me one last time? I have to get the Mutual Grass."
Feng Fuce's gaze was cold, silent for a moment.
He of course knew, Bai Zhi'er overly valued this Mutual Grass.
Even at the risk of it, she personally ventured into the Demon World to pick it, otherwise she wouldn't have fallen into his trap.
He imagined countless possibilities.
But still didn't know what she wanted to do with it.
