Scott Everwood walked to the desk and gently picked up the box to open it. There were neatly arranged three rows of wooden bookmarks, each of which was carved into various decorative patterns.
Taking into account his identity, this little thing should have spent a lot of energy to restrain himself as much as possible, not to carve flowers and trees, but these textured patterns.
Probably because most of the books in the study room were folded by him, so this thing only thought of making such a set of things.
In his hand, the thin one is like a cicada wing.
But it is so thin, the possibility of wear out is also great?
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