It was mid-afternoon, and the air felt sweet as gentle winds whirled through the grass. Fan Mingli sat still amongst the field, his legs lounged out in front of him. The sun kissed his freckled cheeks, spreading a subtle warmth to his skin.
He eyed the bustling of flowers in the corner of his eye—Chrysanthemums raising their buds to the sun, a few scattered daylilies with flapping petals against the breeze.
A faint smile curved on his lips before he returned to the thick sheets of paper on his lap. He scanned them, bringing a brush to a map for adjustments.
Suddenly, his body flinched at the sound of a crash in the grass right beside him, followed by a grunt. Looking over, Yin Changpu sat there with probing eyes.
"What's all of that?" His large, roughened fingers poked at the written words and jotted points in his notebook.
Fan Mingli huffed and reverted his gaze. "I'm constructing a plan to develop poison inserted bombs for when the Tuhan attack."
Yin Changpu blinked. He chuckled to himself as he shook his head before laying his head down in the grass, staring up at the sky.
"Don't you want to use this chance to relax? You've been working really hard these past few days." He commented casually.
Fan Mingli glanced over to him, releasing a sigh. "I have to do this. Advisor Lan is counting on me. Besides, this is the only thing I can do. For now, anyhow."
Yin Changpu bunched his brows as he propped himself up on his elbows. "What do you mean?"
Fan Mingli shrugged, eyes never averting from his notebook. "Well, let's face it. I'm not strong. I don't have the guts to kill. Even in my family, I was the weakest. All I have ever had is tactics. Hopefully, this way, I can be a use to everyone."
Yin Changpu frowned. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he spotted a certain head bobbing along the road.
Jin Yue. She was walking along the river's path, two large, heavy sacs of sand on both her shoulders. And as always, her expression was as still ever.
Yin Changpu's eyes lit up, however, recalling the conversation beforehand, he held back the urge to chase after her.
He turned to the freckled young man writing in his journal. "Listen here Mingli, no matter how weak, scrawny, or a coward you may be, you are worthy. In your own way, you have been a use to us throughout everything. So don't think you are less of a member than any one of us!"
Stunned, Fan Mingli stared at him wide-eyed. His mouth was open, but no words were spoken. He couldn't find them. After saying his peace, Yin Changpu stood up and slid down the hill, walking in Jin Yue's direction.
Just before vanishing, he turned around and shouted, loud and clear.
"Don't forget what I said, all right?!" With those words, he turned around and ran off.
Unable to respond, Fan Mingli could only watch him rush away. A faint blush ran up his neck, and he muttered quietly to himself. Looking back down at his notebook, he saw the petal of a white chrysanthemum on the paper. As a gentle breeze passed by, it drifted away into the bright, pink sky. With clear eyes, a jerk of a smile appeared on his lips.
...
In the armory, An Sun sharpened and cleaned the swords. They were all different lengths, but each sharper than a mountain's point. With his head bowed low, no one could see the man's deep and terribly dark eyes. His grip on the hilt of the blade tightened.
