"You made these yourself?" Feng Yi sat down beside Yun Zhao, picking up a pair of white socks to examine them.
The socks he usually wore were certainly more beautiful. The embroidery on them was stitched by the embroideresses of the Fashion Bureau, making them look elegant, grand, and dignified.
But the white socks in his hands now were soft. They weren't as stiff or aesthetically pleasing as those from the Fashion Bureau, yet they felt incredibly comfortable to the touch. He saw a small, simple ring of bamboo embroidered around the cuff—a rather perfunctory design, to be sure.
He then recalled Song Yunzhao's needlework back when she was in Zhichun Palace. To be honest, he was quite surprised that she would go to so much trouble to make these for him. He knew better than anyone how much she detested sewing.
"What made you suddenly decide to make these for me?" Feng Yi asked, looking at Yun Zhao.
