On an overly hot Mid-Autumn Festival afternoon, a guest appeared silently and suddenly, bringing with him a story about using blood and tears as ink and hundreds of years as paper. It was heavy, but it had turned into a wisp of smoke and disappeared over the years.
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"Are you talking about mermaid fairy tales?"
The woman chuckled softly, "The beauty is true, but the story is false. They are not kind people."
Feng Chu originally wanted to ask, "How do you know?" But before he could say anything, he suddenly changed his mind and asked, "Is there really a mermaid?"
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