As the waist-high Puppet placed the teacup on the stone table, Lin Changheng noticed a line of small characters carved into its wrist: "Mingyi Thirteen."
'What does that mean?'
While Lin Changheng was pondering this, the teacup made contact with the stone table. The yellow light in the Puppet's eyes flickered, and it retreated to the side, standing as still as a statue.
"How interesting."
Lin Changheng looked it over several times, his expression intrigued.
Just then, the graceful young woman approached with a platter of dried and candied Spirit Fruits. "Alchemist Lin, please try some. I made them myself."
"Alright."
Lin Changheng reached out, took a piece without hesitation, and popped it into his mouth.
The graceful young woman watched him and smiled faintly. She found this Alchemist Lin much more agreeable now.
