Wu Zhenghao looked carefully at the white tiger in Yang Fan's arms. The more he looked, the more he felt it was like... a real tiger.,Yang Fan held a white tiger in his left hand and a brush dipped in ink in his right. With flowing strokes, he completed the talisman on the yellow paper in one go.,Although surprised by Yang Fan's careless brushwork, as her pen fell, Grandma Wu felt a shift in the other person's aura. The runes she painted faintly shimmered with gold.。