Two regular types are praying, the number 2 is the correct answer. Wen Xishu actually feels that, among the numbers one to three, the probability of the correct answer appearing is very, very high...
He observes closely.
There are two red butterflies, and this time there is only one blue butterfly, along with one white butterfly.
Before lighting up the statue, Wen Xishu has been keeping an eye on the butterflies.
Soon, two blue butterflies flew over, bringing the total count to three blue butterflies, and another purple butterfly also arrived.
Quietness sets in, the butterflies haven't changed for a while, no more butterflies flew in, and those perched on the smile-faced statue didn't fly away.
Rarely, the four-colored butterflies are all gathered—blue, purple, red, and white.
Among the two regular types, the smaller one still somewhat retains a human outline, except its flesh has already decayed.
Vines pierced into its flesh, causing it heart-wrenching pain.
