Burial God Wasteland, within a small mountain village.
Clear and melodious zither music resounded, akin to the chirping of swallows heralding the spring, and the pitter-patter of flowing water.
At this moment, Li Fan was sitting upright in front of a newly made ancient zither. Having just tested the sound of the zither, a satisfied smile couldn't help but surface on his face.
－－A few days ago, Nan Feng and others went to rescue Little Monkey, and Nan Feng's zither was destroyed in the process.
Hence, having nothing else to do, Li Fan chopped down some paulownia and catalpa wood, and gathered some silk threads. Through the work of axe and chisel and the task of polishing, he made a new seven-stringed zither.
Now that the seven-stringed zither was completely finished, he had just tested its pitch, and it wasn't too bad.
The craftsmanship he learned from the System hadn't gotten rusty after all.
