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"Ziqing, you've only been back for a year, and you're leaving again?"
The village chief grabbed Yu Ziqing's arm, his face full of reluctance.
"Chief, you've stopped again." Yu Ziqing pointed to the chief's hand.
The chief released his hand, took out a palm-sized half-withered leaf, and pinched an embroidery needle with the other hand. The needle threaded with fine line moved up and down through the withered leaf, and the chief's right hand turned into an afterimage, constantly flying up and down.
In just a few breaths, half of the leaf's shape was already embroidered on the half-withered leaf.
Suddenly, the leaf shattered abruptly, and the thread turned into a tangled mess.
The chief sighed and put it away.
"I'm really practicing hard, and you've just been back for a year. You only advanced to the Blood Sea Realm a few days ago, and you keep saying I can't sit still or settle down."
