"Then I'll think about it some more..."
Li Fan didn't care either way. After all, with seventeen or eighteen magic puppets thrown into the mix through memory manipulation, the client probably couldn't even remember their own name anymore. The system could even track them in reverse—whether burning brain cells, or throwing someone under the bus later during a company investigation, it was all a matter of snapping one's fingers to handle.
Then, casually, he scribbled down a few prescriptions for calming medicine and handed over some fish feed, instructing the Zhang Family steward to administer them to the Marquis of Anyang. Hands clasped behind his back, Li Fan walked out of the courtyard and smiled toward Fu Lanshuo.
"So the Junior Secretary really is a divine being cultivating on Mount Song, huh?"
Fu Lanshuo forced an awkward smile. "The expertise of Mo Zhu Mountain is indeed extraordinary, unheard of and unseen before."
Li Fan shrugged. "Want to learn? I can teach you."
