The sun rose from the horizon, bathing the mountaintops in its light and casting a warm, rosy hue upon the surface of the Huaxi River, its ripples glimmering. In the fields, paths crisscrossed, and farmers walked among them, occasionally shouting loudly and erupting with hearty laughter...
This was a sight that the six-year-old Young Emperor Yuanshang Yi had never seen before.
Feng Yun knew he was curious and didn't order a carriage to be prepared, instead taking him by the hand from the manor to the farm tool workshop to see the new tools freshly forged.
The guards followed at a distance, and Yuanshang Yi clutched Feng Yun's hand very tightly.
He was very nervous.
A novel, unknown world.
Part of him was curious, and part of him was at a loss.
Feng Yun didn't expose his feelings, nor did she ask anything. She let him digest the experience slowly, just softly and gently explaining to him the process of farming tools being shaped from molten iron...
