"Hmph, what's it to you..."
She Xilu gave a soft huff inwardly, a little smug and a little happy, and quietly replied, "Maybe this is what they call love."
"Oh."
Youchan's response sounded sour. Had she been able to control She Xilu's body, she would certainly have rolled her eyes on the spot.
Lin Zhishui patted Little Snake's back as she nestled in his arms and smiled. "We have paper and a brush at home, too. Why don't I write something for you now?"
"Mm!" She Xilu immediately nodded and let go of Lin Zhishui.
He had the four treasures of the study at home, too, and always brought his beloved writing brush home with him every day. He could lose anything else in the Calligraphy and Painting Shop, but not this brush.
Once Lin Zhishui had prepared the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, cut the paper on the bedroom desk, ground the ink, and saturated the brush, he stood before the desk and considered briefly. Then he raised his brush and wrote a line with effortless, flowing strokes-
Thread upon thread accumulates into an inch; inch upon inch, without cease, becomes yards and bolts of cloth.
Then he began adding his signature.
"Thread upon thread accumulates into an inch; inch upon inch, without cease, becomes yards and bolts of cloth..."
She Xilu stood beside him, watching curiously and murmuring the words.
Youchan, within her mind, also brought her spiritual awareness to full focus, carefully studying the flow of Dao resonance and the wondrous transformations between the strokes.
She Xilu had only just begun cultivating, and her understanding of the Dao was so shallow as to be practically negligible. She only felt the principles and Dao resonance within the writing surround her like a vast, deep sea, immersing her so