The Ganbahua withered its petals, and its two bean-like green eyes darted about evasively, as if it were weighing how to answer Di Siyu's question.
If it admitted that it absorbed even more than he did, would it be chopped up into a pile of scrap petals?
Suddenly, a cold flash cut through the air. The Ganbahua felt a chill on its petals and saw the dull knife in Di Siyu's hand graze past them, the tip skewering the carcass of a spirit fly.
Chapter 71