There was complete silence, and the umbrella in his hand did not move at all.
Ryan Fang paused, folded the umbrella, and put it back into the brocade box. "If you don't like the name I gave you, I'll think about it again."
It's a pity that he really has no idea about naming. Even if he racked his brains every day, he still couldn't think of a good name. He even borrowed the name of the cat he raised in modern times, but the umbrella still didn't give him face.
Magical instruments like this all have their own little tempers, and Ryan Fang can understand that. Although he couldn't think of a good name, he thought that if he spent more time with the umbrella and cultivated feelings, the umbrella might respond to him.
Therefore, every time Ryan Fang went to practice, he would open his umbrella and put it aside. If he went out, he would hold the umbrella in his hand. However, Ryan Fang seldom went out. Usually, he would go out only when he had to.
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