After three days and three nights of work,
the clothes I was making for Ye Qingxian had begun to take shape. Yangyang came over to watch, too, and stood on tiptoe beside me, stroking the fabric. "Mom, this is the same material as Yangyang's clothes."
"That's right." I ruffled my daughter's hair.
The best things, of course, went to my daughter first.
I hadn't cared about Ye Qingxian before. Back then, I hadn't even treated her like a person, so it had never occurred to me to make her clothes.
Times had changed, and her treatment had risen with them.
Ye Qingxian was a peerless prodigy known throughout the world. There was only so much I could do for her, but as her only Junior Sister, making her a comfortable set of clothes was a simple enough favor. It could even come in handy someday.
After all, not every Junior Sister made new clothes for her Senior Sister.
"Are those clothes for Ye Qingxian's mom?"
Yangyang estimated the size of the clothes, and the answer became clear to her.
"Yes." I picked up my needle and thread again and stitched into the fabric. The neat, close stitches showed the skill behind my work.
At that moment, there wasn't a single sign of stitching on the cloth before me. It looked like an Immortal Skirt, so ingenious and seamless that it seemed to have formed naturally.
That was the mark of a master embroiderer.
"Oh." Yangyang lowered her heels.
She tugged at her sleeve. A little of her arm was exposed, which seemed to make her uncomfortable. "Mom, did Yangyang get taller? These clothes look a little small."
I looked up and saw that she'd noticed, too. "Go look in the closet. The one at the far end of the room