There's truly a special kind of power in children.
They're bright, lively, and so innocent—purer than the sky outside.
Ke Bing pushed herself up from the bed, her legs a little sore from sitting for so long. She rummaged through a drawer for her needle and thread, pulling out a palm-sized box.
Inside were spools of thread in various colors and fine needles.
Ke Bing was no pampered princess. She had grown up in a small, undeveloped county, had seen the northern crops grow through the four seasons, and had even helped out in the countryside during the busiest farming seasons. Domestic chores like this came easily to her.
It was just that she had a pretty face. As the saying goes, a girl changes dramatically by the time she's eighteen. As she grew up, her complexion became fairer, and she started paying attention to her clothes and makeup, leaving the dusty, weary life of that small northern county far behind.
