Thinking of the dashing and heroic deity the little flower spirit had met at first sight, she was about to pine for him all over again. What a miserable state to be in! In these days of alternating warmth and chill, this kind of longing was the hardest to bear.
Three cups, two sips of weak wine: not nearly enough to soothe the sorrow in her heart. No, next time she saw the great deity, she'd have to pounce on him! If all else failed, she'd strike first and get the upper hand.
The deity: This flower spirit is lovesick. I'd better keep my distance.
The flower spirit: No, this time, I won't stop even if you refuse.
Ahem... This flower spirit has no idea what modesty means, so ladies, please don't imitate her~
