In the slanting sunlight of the afternoon, the elders of the various tribes left with satisfaction.
At the same time, they also took away the females who had come to learn the craft.
Luna Sutton finally wove a small piece of silken fabric, light as a cicada's wing, smooth and soft.
Looking at that small piece of silk cloth that she had woven with her own hands, her heart was full of a sense of accomplishment.
She glanced at the ten baskets of silk by her side and sighed helplessly.
There's still a long way to go from the silk enterprise she envisioned.
However, with silk in hand and having successfully woven that first piece of fabric, she could take her time with the rest.
There's no rush.
She carefully put away that small piece of silk cloth and continued weaving.
The technique taught by The Golden Silkworm King was indeed useful, and now the weaving felt much more fluid, her fingers shuttling back and forth on the loom, while her thoughts drifted far away.
