In the spring breeze, silk-like currents surged toward the Golden Hall. The willow branches by Willow Lake, stirred by the spring wind as if it had read their thoughts, trembled incessantly.
No one saw the traces of those embroidery needles.
Standing perfectly still in the square, Wang Xian held a flower between the fingers of his left hand and a sword in his right.
He remained as motionless as before, still holding the flower in the same pose as the moment before, like a vajra statue in a temple. Or perhaps like a woman from the Academy embroidering beneath a tree, then falling into thought.
The ministers on the stone steps had stopped crying out. Thousands of people in and around the square watched the scene in the wind, tense beyond measure. Not a single person spoke.
It was as if everyone had turned to wood.
In the Prince of Zhen'nan's garden, Liu Xian'er suddenly asked, "Sir, how does Brother Wang Xian have an embroidery needle?"
Li Dalu chuckled. "When my junior brother was at the Academy, his embroidery was even more impressive than his swordsmanship!"
Tang Qingyu looked at the women and sighed. "The mandarin ducks that fellow embroidered were one of a kind in all the world..."
Tang Shisan laughed. "So Wang Xian embroidered a pair of mandarin ducks for Big Sister in Southern Border back then?"
Tang Qingyu gave a bitter smile. "I made him give me one back..." She glanced at Ximen Tinghua as she spoke. Ximen Tinghua said nothing, but Meng Xiaolou burst out laughing. "That's right. My brother did give one back to you."
Prince Duan's residence.
Martai looked at Qiu Mingyu, bitterness written all over his face.
He muttered, "Why would a man learn embroidery?"
Qiu Mingyu smiled faintly. "Don't forget, he also