Feng Liyan took it, gave her wrist a gentle flick, and the fan snapped open with a "pop" sound.
The man in white, seeing Feng Liyan's suave action of opening the fan, curiously asked:
"Do you like playing with fans?"
"Hmm... I quite like it."
"Didn't you say the other day that this fan is especially important to you? Why, was it given by a sweetheart?" The man in white teased.
Feng Liyan glanced at him, frowned slightly, and said seriously, "No sweetheart."
"Tch."
Feng Liyan didn't understand what the man in white meant by "tch", but seeing his disbelieving look, Feng Liyan reiterated with a firm tone:
"Really, there isn't one."
"I was just joking, why are you answering so seriously." The man in white said, slightly amused.
"It's not funny at all." Feng Liyan glanced at him displeasingly, then closed the fan in her hand and stuffed it back into the man's arms.
"What's this for?" The man in white picked up the fan in his arms, not understanding what she meant.
