Bai Zisheng happily took the Spirit Farmers on patrol every day, while Mo Hua sat on the field ridges, quietly drawing Soil Cultivation Arrays.
Bai Zixi was also helping Mo Hua with the arrays.
She crouched beside Mo Hua with her knees together, her fair hand holding the brush. Her posture was elegant and her expression tranquil; the Array Patterns she drew were delicate and beautiful.
Mo Hua secretly glanced at them several times, deeply startled, and could not help sighing:
"Senior Martial Sister, the arrays you draw are so pretty!"
"Pretty?"
A trace of confusion appeared in Bai Zixi's beautiful eyes.
"Mm." Mo Hua nodded.
Bai Zixi looked at the array she had drawn, then at Mo Hua's, and asked curiously:
"Aren't they about the same?"
They were the same array, with the same Array Patterns. At a glance, there was not much difference.
Yet Mo Hua shook his head. "They're different."
Because he was too practiced, the arrays he drew were orderly in structure yet unhurried in brushwork.
But the ones his Senior Martial Sister drew seemed refined and elegant, with ink strokes balanced in both weight and delicacy.
Mo Hua secretly glanced at Bai Zixi again. They say one's handwriting mirrors one's character. Could arrays mirror their maker too?
Was it because she was pretty that the arrays she drew were pretty too?
Seeing Mo Hua's eyes blinking as though he were lost in thought, Bai Zixi asked:
"What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing..."
Bai Zixi felt that Mo Hua was hiding something from her. Her gaze flickered, but she said nothing.
Then she stared at Mo Hua for a few moments before suddenly pointing to her fair cheek with a finger.
Mo Hua was stunned, not knowing what she meant.
Bai Zixi said, "Your face is