Evening arrived, the rain stopped, and the sky cleared up.
Comrade Xiao Qian and Ji Weiwei forcibly dragged An Yang out, and the three of them went to the shopping mall and supermarket together. They picked and chose many ingredients, walking all the way like they were taking a stroll while talking as they went.
Most of the time, however, they were discussing the knitting methods of a certain knitwear, and only occasionally chatted about other things.
Comrade Xiao Qian herself was very skilled in needlework, which was almost an essential skill for women of that era. But with modern development over so many years, there had been substantial progress in almost every aspect; even the methods of knitting sweaters had evolved far more richly than in ancient times, by who knows how many times. Tutorials were everywhere on the internet, and every year people invented various novel knitting methods to weave different patterns. In this regard, Xiao Qian still had plenty of room for learning.
As it happened, Ji Weiwei was also a dabbler—the kind who could knit anything but mastered nothing—so the two of them crawled out of bed early in the morning to watch video tutorials, studying and discussing with each other until the afternoon...
An Yang was also somewhat speechless.
He did know that in ancient times, neighbors, village matrons, and even the female dependents of high officials all liked to gather together to do needlework, clustering together for entire days as if it had become their primary recreational activity. In modern rural areas, there were also many women who liked to flock together in winter to knit sweaters, gossiping and laughing while they worked, so that leisure time without farming could be whiled away quickly.
Yet he never expected that his own thousand-year female ghost