At that moment, Guan Fusha was sitting behind her desk dealing with sect affairs. Her brows knitted slightly, annoyed by the mischievous wind. She picked up a paperweight to press the documents down and said, without even lifting her head,
“A-Tian, go close the window.”
“…”
When no answer came for a long time, Guan Fusha put down her brush and looked up, only to see A-Tian absentmindedly wiping a vase, her expression clearly miles away.
Seeing that all-too-familiar vase, the corner of Guan Fusha’s mouth twitched, and she sighed inwardly.
It was a miracle that thing still hadn’t...
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