Zheng Qing had his head shoved under the bed, his butt sticking high in the air like a little hill.
Several sprites seemed to have discovered this amusing thing. Giggling, they fluttered their translucent wings and landed on that "little hill," hopping about and making a noisy mess of things.
It made the young wizard feel a little itchy.
He raised an arm to scratch himself while shooing away the little fellows.
"Stop messing around!" He laboriously turned his head and tried to scold them in a dignified tone. The sprites scattered at once. Only then could the young wizard finally focus on examining the thing beneath the bed.
But it was gray and grimy, covered in dust, and the light under the bed was dim, making it hard to see clearly.
After examining it for a long while and confirming it was inanimate, Zheng Qing finally made up his mind. Lying on his side, he stretched his arm out as far as he could and used a brush pen to nudge the strange object out.
The move nearly made him fall under the bed.
Dylan happened to see this scene when he crawled out of his Coffin and prepared to get ready for class.
"What are you doing?" He held a small brush, ready to groom his little Fangs.
"Picking something up," Zheng Qing answered in a muffled voice. "...There's something under the bed."
"Why not use magic?" Mr. Vampire Werewolf looked utterly confused. "I remember you were pretty good with the Binding Spell... Or you could just use the simpler Mage Hand."
The fat cat lying on Fatty Xin's belly gave an agreeing meow.
Zheng Qing's arm, still gripping the brush handle, froze in midair—he had forgotten that even something so simple could be done with magic. Such