Zhang Xiaofan looked at his empty fingertips. Then, carefully and slowly, he brought them together and rubbed them lightly, concentrating on the sensation. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "There really is something!"
"Right?" Seeing that Zhang Xiaofan could feel it too, Luo Yunji beamed proudly.
"But what is it? It's just a tiny bit of sensation, almost nonexistent, compared to feeling nothing at all." Zhang Xiaofan curiously stared at his fingertips, where nothing could be seen.
"I don't know! It feels like very, very fine gauze. But it's smoother to the touch than gauze." Luo Yunji thought for a moment. That seemed to be the best way to describe it.
"Something finer than gauze would be silk?" Zhang Xiaofan couldn't imagine it. "Could this have been left behind by the giant snake the senior brothers saw?"
"It feels like silkworm thread. A single strand of silkworm thread is invisible unless you look closely. Even in sunlight, it's hard to see. You have to find a very particular angle to catch a glint of silver." Zhang Xiaofan thought back to when he had lived in Grass Temple Village. He had seen it before—a strand so fine that it was hard to make out even in the sunlight.
"Could this be a whole sheet? Would that make it silk cloth?" Luo Yunji's eyes widened, as if an idea had occurred to him.
He gently sent a wisp of spiritual energy toward his fingertips. After trying several times, the two of them watched in amazement as a small patch of blue "mist" slowly appeared in Luo Yunji's hand.
"This is silk cloth, right?" Luo Yunji asked Zhang Xiaofan beside him, delighted.
"Probably! But I've never seen what silk looks like either. I heard people in the village say that only rich families could