Bane's mouth twitched as he looked at the book being held out before him.
Although its maker had tried hard to make the book look old, the workmanship was simply too poor, and the materials were utterly ordinary.
The blood-red cover had merely been dyed with red ink.
The black crow drawn on it looked reasonably recognizable, but it was nowhere near lifelike.
And when he opened the book, its pages were completely blank.
"I haven't had time to write it yet!"
"But when I do, it'll contain the most important deeds, ones everyone will sing praises of..."
"Keep your delusions of grandeur to yourself. Don't infect other people."
Bane couldn't help interrupting Li Jiajia.
Supposedly, at some stage of life, everyone experienced similar symptoms: indulging in fantasies, failing to fit into reality, and believing themselves unique.
How long it lasted depended on their financial circumstances and the attention they received from the opposite sex.
The better those two factors were, the shorter it lasted.
The worse those two factors were, the longer it lasted.
Of course, there were also certain individuals who suffered lifelong episodes.
In short, it was a harmless condition.
Anyone who encountered such people could treat them kindly, provided they weren't affecting others.
"I'm not delusional!"
"I'm the one and only Black Follower..."
The long string of titles that followed made Bane cover his forehead.
Qin Ran, however, listened with interest.
He had nothing against such harmless people, and he was curious about how she had invented so many prefixes in one breath.
More importantly... the crow.
"What made you think of a crow?"
Qin Ran took the book and handed it back to Li Jiajia before asking.
"When I saw you descend from the sky that day, I inexplicably thought of a crow-and they say