One hundred and seventeen. Coming in droves.

Lu Li was writing, Anna was feeding.

Several minutes later, Lu Li finished writing the last part of his thank-you note to the "Library Ghost." The crow, no longer interested in the food at its feet, bowed its head to preen its wet black feathers.

It had eaten its fill.

Anna put the bread back, and when she came out of the kitchen, she saw Lu Li rolling up the note he had written, tucking it into a circular shape and plugging it into the mailbox.

"Thank you for your trouble,"

he said, opening the window above the sofa.

"Ah—"

As if in response, the crow let out a piercing cry, spread its wings, flew out the window, and became a black dot leaping over the rooftops.

Some passersby looked up in surprise, but by the time they turned their gaze back to the window, it was already closed.

"Can it understand what we're saying?" Anna said somewhat dejectedly, regretful that she hadn't had the chance to touch it.

"I don't know,"