Within Wen Qing Palace, little Yan Yun's laughter rang out without end. The Demonic Blade had enlarged, carrying him in its broad inward curve as it swayed through the air. From time to time, little Yan Yun shouted, "Father, swing faster! Swing faster..." Yan Zhuixing stood quietly with his arms folded, his face brimming with indulgent affection.
Wen Qing, meanwhile, sat happily on the steps beneath the raised seat inside the hall. Across her knees lay a piece of white silk stretched taut over a circular bamboo frame, and she was serenely embroidering a butterfly poised to spread its wings and fly. There were a pair of butterflies; one had already been completed, while the other was nearly done as well, lacking only its two antennae.
As Wen Qing bent over her embroidery, she occasionally raised her head to look at the playing father and son. She shook her head with a warm smile before continuing her work, utterly rid of the image of the willful Princess she had once been, every inch the virtuous wife and loving mother. Some said that virtuous wives and loving mothers were not born, but were mostly forged after life had settled within them. Perhaps they were speaking of women like her.
She loved her present life and was content with it. The dazzling, splendid Cultivation World Yan Zhuixing had told her about held no temptation for her whatsoever, because it was simply too far removed from her. She had no great desires, only hoping that their family could live on in such plain tranquility.
"Father, I want to ride a big horse!" little Yan Yun suddenly cried from atop the Demonic Blade.
"Alright!" Yan Zhuixing nodded kindly. The Demonic Blade flew over and flipped, and with a cheer, little Yan Yun landed in