"Ooooh!"
The water bird glided close to the river, perching on top of the mast, spreading one wing and extending its beak to preen its feathers.
On the deck of the November Blessing Ship.
Liang Qu leaned against the railing, unfolding the cloth strips under the umbrella one by one, reading the inscriptions on them.
Those he had read, he would tie a knot in and let them fall to one side.
"Eh, the Elder looks very happy, bringing the umbrella onboard without returning to his quarters, just continuously reading."
"What's so special about that umbrella? It's so ugly, all patched up with cloth. Can it even be used?"
"If the Elder likes that type, we could make one too."
Long Yao and Long Li huddled together, whispering softly, not understanding why Liang Qu would cherish a fabric umbrella so much.
"You can't make one, this is not an ordinary umbrella, it's an Umbrella of Thousands," Long Pingjiang interjected, "It's not for use, it's for appreciation."
"For appreciation?"
